The waiting room was nearly empty except for an older man reading a newspaper. She glimpsed Dylan’s singular form in the far hallway. He was standing next to a bulletin board and talking to someone in hushed tones. Should she just sit down, and wait for his acquaintance to leave? she wondered nervously. She and Dylan weren’t supposed to making their connection public.
But then Dylan glanced around and saw her. He beckoned.
“Sidney, hello,” Alice said a second later when she rounded the corner and saw whom Dylan had been talking to. She took his extended hand and Sidney leaned down to briefly kiss her cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to admit a patient, unfortunately, and I was on my way out when I saw Dylan.” He blinked and sobered. “Are you all right, Alice?”
“Yeah, I’m great,” she said too brightly and emphatically. Hearing the psychiatrist mention having to admit one of his patients into the hospital had pricked a nerve. Not that Alice really considered herself psych ward material. Still, she was keen to prove to the two men—and herself—that she was perfectly fine. “Did Dylan mention why we were here?” she asked, quieting her voice.
“Yes,” Sidney said. “Are you all set, then?”
Alice held up the pamphlet and put on her game face. “Yes. All that’s left to do is wait for official results.”
Sidney gave her a wry smile. “That’s only step one. Working through what step one really means to you is going to be the hard part. If only it were as simple as giving blood and getting an answer.”
“True,” Alice conceded. She glanced at Dylan uncertainly. “Did . . . did you tell him about what I remembered?” she asked softly.
“I did. I hope that’s all right,” Dylan said.
“It’s okay,” Alice assured.
“It sounds as if the memory of Lynn moved you very deeply,” Sidney said quietly.
Tears sprang into her eyes, surprising her. Something about Sidney’s kind, compassionate gray eyes that had done it. God, she was turning into a wreck. “It was,” she managed, her stiff smile quivering. “It was incredible.”
“Alice—”
“I think I’ll just run to the ladies’ room before we go?” she said in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, looking down the hallway and interrupting Dylan.
Dylan looked like he was about to halt her.
“There’s one right there,” Sidney said, pointing to a door twenty feet down the hall.
“Thanks. Right back,” she said with a smile that was completely at odds with her brimming eyes.
“YOU have to tell her, Dyl
an,” Sidney said quietly when the bathroom door shut behind Alice.
Dylan frowned. “You just saw her. She’s not ready for it. She likes to act like everything is fine, but she’s more fragile than she wants to admit.”
“I’m not so sure anymore. She’s not fragile by nature. Her defenses have been compromised due to all the psychological and emotional stress. But that doesn’t mean she won’t be able to take it, eventually. She has to be told sometime.”
“If she was ready to know, she’d ask. That’s what you’ve been preaching all along,” Dylan hissed. He glanced around warily, making sure no one was around. He and Sidney had had this conversation several times in the past few days, and it was getting more and more trying each time. “The truth about Sissy and her uncles came to her once she was ready . . . once she had that memory of Lynn to cling to. Now you expect me to taint that memory for her as well?”
“It’s not a matter of you doing anything harmful to her. These are facts. It’s her history. She deserves to know. Events are going to start unfolding now; things that neither you nor Alice can control. Better the truth comes from you than from a stranger.”
He made a frustrated sound. Sidney was right, and yet—
“You weren’t there,” Dylan said edgily. “You don’t know what it was like, telling her that the woman whom she considered her mother was a knowing accomplice to her kidnapping.”
“No, but I can imagine how difficult it was for you,” Sidney replied. “Neither of us thought any of this process was going to be easy, and yet here we are, getting through a step at a time, right along with Alice.”
“What I’m experiencing is nothing compared to what it must be like for her,” Dylan said grimly. His gaze sharpened on his old friend. “And since when are you such an advocate for aggressive action when it comes to this topic? Since when did you stop advising caution when it comes to exposing her past to her, or subtle nudging at worst.”
“Since I met her,” Sidney said without pause. “She’s quite unique, and very strong in her own way. The news from the camp is that she continues to excel and demonstrate unique leadership ability. This despite what we know about all she’s endured this week.”
Dylan grimaced, partially mollified but not convinced. “What have you heard about Kehoe’s temperature when it comes to hiring her—not that it makes an ounce of difference in the end,” he added.