Molly slides back quickly, and I’m glad, because the woman is staring at me now. I rise from the chair as she holds out her hand.
“I am Dacia Badea,” the woman repeats. Her smile is warm, and it lights up her entire face, including her sky-blue eyes. “You must be so frightened. Why did they not put us in a room less . . .” She looks around and shudders as she shakes my hand. “Horrible? And warmer! It is so cold.”
It doesn’t really seem that cold to me, but I nod. She’s clearly trying to put me at ease, and I might as well let her think she’s succeeding, even though she isn’t. For one thing, that Pop Rocks sensation is back, spreading in a narrow band across my forehead. It moves more rapidly this time, and it’s more intense. And I can also feel Molly muttering in the background, like she’s still trying to figure out why this woman seemed familiar.
But I push all of that aside and focus on the Badea woman. I need to figure out why she’s here and what she wants.
“You must wonder why I am here and what I want.”
Okay, that’s creepy. Really, really creepy.
But . . . it’s just coincidence. Right? I mean, obviously, that’s what I’m wondering. It’s what anybody would be wondering in my situation.
Careful, Anna.
Shh.
I don’t get the sense Molly has any information beyond that whispered caution, and having an extended chat with her while this woman is watching seems unwise.
“Yes, I was wondering that.” I return her smile, although I’m pretty sure mine isn’t as convincing. “I was expecting Detective Baker. Or, I guess he’s a detective . . . I don’t really know.”
“The police will have questions to you later. But here is the thing with bureaucracy . . .” She says the word bee-rokratzi, and it takes me a moment to figure it out. “Always there is a pecking order. My employers are high above District police. This can be good news for you if you are wise. He can make all of this disaster go . . .” Ms. Badea makes a little poof gesture with her hand, blowing an imaginary something off the tip of the still-gloved fingers of her left hand.
I find it odd that the employers she mentioned are now a single man—he can make all of this disaster go . . . poof. But maybe it’s just a language thing.
“That’s nice to know, Ms. Badea.”
“Please, I am Dacia.”
Molly stirs again, uneasy.
Dacia takes the seat that Daniel vacated a few moments ago and motions me to the chair on the other side of the table. “You and your friend—his name is Taddeo, right?—are not in trouble. We just want information.”
My stomach tightens when she says Deo’s name, but I nod. “Okay. But I don’t know what I can offer.”
“Anna, Anna. Such modesty!”
Her expression shifts. It’s a subtle change, but in that instant, I have no doubt what’s coming next. It’s what I’ve feared since I was six, sitting in Kelsey’s chair, when she explained why I could never tell other people what I can do. Why I needed to pretend. Why I needed to find a way to keep my secrets safe.
This woman knows.
Her smile barely flickers, but there’s a hint of victory, the barest whiff of gotcha in her eyes, as she takes my hand again. I don’t like people touching me, and I start to pull away, but her grip tightens. “We have reason to believe you are a special young lady with an . . . unusual talent. And we are very interested to develop gifts like yours—”
A tiny frown crosses Dacia’s face. That tingle starts again, directly above my ear, moving right to left.
She’s causing it. I don’t know how she’s doing it or exactly what she’s doing, but it’s definitely her.
I have a vivid memory of Kelsey kneeling in front of me, her eyes level with my own six-year-old face, trying to impress upon me the importance of what she was saying. You can’t keep all of your secrets bottled up inside or they’ll hurt you. They’ll scream to get out and make you miserable. But some secrets aren’t for sharing outside this room. Not if you want to be safe. Not if you want your life to be your own. You need to keep your wall up when you’re around strangers, Anna.
I spent many hours in Kelsey’s office, stacking up those bricks in my mind, walling off the unsafe corners. Practicing over and over until I had a way to keep my hitchhikers from taking control, and to keep me from doing and saying stupid things that would land me back in a psychiatric ward. I also learned to unstack those bricks, and let out the things that frightened me so that we could examine them. But only when I was in Kelsey’s office, where it was safe. And later, sometimes with Deo.
My wall is up even before it’s a conscious thought. It’s just a mental exercise, something to keep me feeling as though I’m in control of the situation, even when I’m not. But years of practice have made it second nature.