“No,” Dr. Keller said gently. “But frightened people try to negotiate with whatever they can control.”

Through the narrow window in the door, Ethan sat on the edge of the table, dressed now in his trousers and undershirt — he had apparently refused to keep wearing the gown.

His shoulders were bent, one hand resting against his chest. For the first time he looked less like the man whose name moved silently through Chicago and more like the thirty-year-old who used to wake me at two in the morning because he had dreamed I left him.

Back then, I always promised I wouldn’t.

Chapter 10 — Five Minutes

I entered the room alone. Ethan looked up.

“Dr. Keller says you need more tests.”