Chapter One
Rae Voight hurried down the long hallway leading to Oakvale Institute's group therapy room on Wednesday afternoon. She tried to breathe mostly through her mouth because the smell of the industrial cleaner they used on the linoleum floor brought back memories of being in the mental hospital. Not even memories, exactly. It was more like the harsh smell transported her right back into the hospital, back into her room with her silent roommate, back to taking pills from little white accordion pleated cups, back to feeling like she was free falling into insanity.
But now you know you're not insane, she told herself. She was a fingerprint reader'she touched a print, she got a thought from the person who left it.
Weird. Spooky. Freakish. But not insane. She pulled in another mouth breath, the chemicals sour on her tongue. Next time I'm bringing gum, she thought.
Footsteps pounded down the hall behind her, coming ri ...
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