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  “Yeah. Good.”

  After they left, the room was silent. But far from empty. I stared at the blank TV screen, just being.

  Were there other Cognoscenti patients in this hospital recovering from the procedure? Imagine some of them getting the placebo. I couldn’t have stood that. I’d be devastated.

  Thank You, God, so very, very much. My first prayer in a long time rose as natural as breathing.

  You’re welcome, child.

  My mouth fell open. Did I really just feel that?

  I knew I had. It had come just like that. So . . . real. So complete. God was here. In this room with me.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. This was the final thing I needed. This was everything. God had come back. He wanted to be with me. Me. The warmth of that knowledge spread through my whole body.

  How had I ever made it all those months without Him? I pulled the covers around me, sealing Him to my heart.

  Don’t quit talking to me now, please, God. I need You so much.

  I thanked Him again for the surgery. For Cognoscenti and the chip. And Sherry. For the new life I could live. But the more I talked to Him, the more something nagged at me. At first it wasn’t clear. Then it materialized.

  Surely God hadn’t come back just because of a brain chip. He was way bigger than that.

  I dwelt on that for awhile.

  If He hadn’t just come back . . . then what? Was He never really gone?

  The thought punched me in the stomach.

  When I felt like He’d abandoned me—could that have just been me?

  The answer spilled over me like warm perfume, soaking the covers. Soaking me. God had never really left me. I just hadn’t been able to feel Him.

  He hadn’t betrayed me. I could trust Him. I really could.

  The shift in my understanding was so immense I hardly knew how to handle it. Sherry had told me again and again that God was there for me. But I didn’t listen.

  I couldn’t wait to tell her this!

  Dinner came, but I had trouble eating. I was just too overwhelmed. My lightness had become near weightlessness, the peace within me so very profound. I was healed, and God was here.

  True—I still didn’t have Ryan. Or kids. My relationship with my mother was still broken. But I was whole. I could deal with these things. And God would help me through.

  Time passed, and sleepiness finally stole over me. When I turned out the light, I brimmed with anticipation for the morning.

  Mere hours later my nightmare began.

  Chapter 6

  THE VISION CAME AS I WAS FALLING ASLEEP.

  I was standing in a richly furnished living room. Large, overstuffed couch and matching love seat. Beige walls, a large impressionist painting of a seascape. Hardwood floors with a Chinese rug. Glass-topped coffee table. White marble fireplace.

  A petite woman stalked in, dressed in jeans and a blue silk top. A dark-haired beauty. “Why can’t you stop cheating on me? You’re nothing but a liar!”

  What?

  “Shut up!” a male voice shouted. But it came from me.

  “I’ll tell them all what you really are.” She jabbed a forefinger at me. “I’ll make you pay!”

  I glanced down at myself—my big hands and long legs, clad in khaki pants. Brown loafer shoes.

  I was a man.

  The woman kept yelling. “I’ll leave you, how will you like that? You can’t kick me around like some dog!”

  My hands—the man’s hands—shook with anger.

  I/he strode across the room. Through his eyes I saw the woman getting closer, saw fear cross her face. She cringed.

  He wrapped his hands around her neck. Tightened his grip.

  She choked. Grabbed at his fingers, clawing, trying to pull them away. He watched her face turn red, then white. She gurgled. Her eyes rolled back. Her legs gave way.

  He let her fall.

  For a moment I/he stood over her, panting. He wiped an arm across his mouth. Steadied his breathing.

  She moved.

  He cursed and grabbed her feet. Roughly dragged her out of the room, into a big kitchen with lots of stainless steel, more hardwood flooring. Beyond a glass door lay a deck and large backyard. She tried to kick him. He cursed again and let her go. Lunged toward the butcher block on the counter. He grabbed a knife. She wailed. He collapsed to his knees beside her. Arched the weapon high. The knife sliced down toward her chest—

  My eyes popped open, my heart kicking the walls of my ribs. I lay there, shaking, sucking oxygen.

  No kitchen. No knife, no man. Just my hospital room, dark.

  Sweat itched my forehead. I raised a hand to wipe it away. The fingers looked like my own. Not a man’s. Mine.

  My lungs relaxed a little. Deep breaths, Lisa.

  I licked my lips. Reached for my glass to drink some water.

  It was a dream. Just a dream.

  But I hadn’t been asleep yet. Had I?

  Whatever it was, the memory of my attack must have spawned it. But something . . .

  Long minutes passed. I stared at the ceiling. Sleep stole out of the room. Fresh fear swept over me, weighting me to the bed. My mouth went dry again. Why was I so terrified?

  Had I gotten the placebo chip after all?

  No, that couldn’t be. I wouldn’t be able to handle that. Besides, I still felt different. Stronger than before. This . . . thing was something else. Something new.

  Lisa, it was just a nightmare.

  Really? When had I ever had a dream about being a man? His actions—I’d witnessed them from inside his head. I could still see those fingers around the woman’s neck. The cold promise of the knife in his hand. Could see it arcing down toward her heart.

  She couldn’t have survived a stabbing like that. He’d killed her.

  Lisa. It was just a dream.

  No it wasn’t.

  I drank some more water. Carefully turned on my right side. An hour passed. Two. Squalling drowsiness threatened to overtake me, but I fought it. I didn’t want to relive that scene again.

  Just before finally drifting off, I remembered the anesthesia and pain pills. All those drugs. Of course they were the cause. That scene was just a hallucination. I’d be better tomorrow, when everything was out of my system.

  When I could go home and start my new life . . .

  SUNDAY, MARCH 11

  Chapter 7

  SUNDAY MORNING DAWNED.

  I lay in bed trying to figure out what I was feeling. Brittle relief, maybe? I’d had no more bad dreams during the night. And today I got to go home. Most of all, the Empowerment Chip was still working. But that awful murder scene pulsed in my head. It didn’t seem like a dream or hallucination at all. It seemed real.

  Which, of course, was ridiculous.

  I got up and managed to shower. Just had to be careful not to get my bandage wet. The warm water washed the dream away. A little.

  After breakfast a nurse brought in a phone, and I used it for my one allowed call to make sure Sherry was coming at noon.

  “Lisa! How are you?”

  “Healed, Sherry.” I loved that word. “The chip worked. I’m not depressed anymore. It’s absolutely incredible!”

  She gasped. “Oh, Lisa.” Her voice cracked. For a moment she couldn’t say anything.

  I babbled on about all the wonderful things I’d experienced. How I was able to remember events without feeling the pain. I’d planned to tell her about the horrible dream, too. But suddenly I couldn’t. She was so happy that I was well. I didn’t want to spoil that. Besides, talking to Sherry dampened the memory of the nightmare even more.

  “I can’t wait to see the kids,” I said. “It’s been so long.”

  “And they’ll love to see you.”

  By the time I hung up I had tears in my eyes.

  Dr. Rayner arrived to check on me, performing all the typical doctorly tasks. He didn’t ask if I felt better emotionally. That was Jerry and Clair’s job. Instead he read the nurse’s computer
ized chart for my vitals. Made me follow his moving finger with my eyes. Then he removed the bandage from my head and peered at the stitches. “Yes.” His fingers were gentle. “Looks good.” He replaced the bandage and stood back, hands in the pocket of his white coat.

  I just wanted him to pronounce I was allowed to leave. “Do I have to come back to get the stitches out?”

  “In about ten days.”

  I winced. “Won’t I look terrific in the meantime.”

  Wow. I was thinking about how I looked. How many months since I’d worried about that?

  My lips spread in a lopsided smile. See, I was fine. Better than fine. That nightmare had been a rattling bump in the road. Now my path was clear.

  “You don’t need to be going out anyway,” the doc said. “Remember all the instructions you were given before surgery? Take it easy this week. Even with a procedure that goes smoothly, anesthesia is hard on the body. How are you feeling now?”

  “Good.”

  “Been up and around?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right.” He nodded. “Looks like you’re ready to go home.”

  Yes! “I can’t wait.” I shifted against the pillows. “Did you hear how well the chip’s working? It’s cured my depression.”

  He smiled. “That’s terrific. I’m so glad for you. And for Cognoscenti.”

  “Yeah. I haven’t felt like this—”

  The knife raised up in the man’s right hand.

  I froze. My vision glazed over.

  On his fourth finger sat a huge ring. A gold dragon’s head, with emeralds for eyes.

  “Ms. Newberry?”

  No, not again. What was happening? My fingers dug into the bedcovers. These were new details from that dream. But I was fully awake. How could I see this now, when I was awake?

  “Lisa? You feeling dizzy?” The doctor’s voice sounded far away.

  “N-no.”

  He eyed me. “Are you sure? We can keep you another day.”

  “No.” I gripped the bed sheet harder. It had to be the hospital, this room. Get me home, and I’d be fine. I wanted to see Sherry today. “It was nothing. I really want to get out of here.”

  He gazed at me, then finally nodded. “You have someone coming to get you?”

  “Yes, at noon.” I swallowed, trying to lighten my voice. “Really, I’m fine. The chip has made such a difference—”

  The knife rose up. The dragon ring glinted in the light.

  No, stop! I cringed. That ring. It was so ugly. And scary.

  Dr. Rayner studied me.

  The knife disappeared. I forced my breathing to return to normal.

  No more pictures came.

  Somehow I managed a smile for the doctor. Any more of this weirdness, and he’d make me stay another night. “Thanks for checking on me. And thanks for doing such a great job on the surgery. I can’t believe how easy it was.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He looked me over one final time, then made a few more notes in the computer and left.

  A long breath whooshed out of me. I stared across the room. Why had I seen those things now? I couldn’t have any more drugs in me. But that knife and ring. They were clear as daylight.

  I tossed back the covers and slid from bed. Lying there was no good. I needed to be moving, occupying my mind. Sherry would be here in an hour.

  So I concentrated on getting ready. When thoughts of the man and knife tried to return, I pushed them away and imagined greeting Sherry. She’d be tongue-tied when she saw what the chip had done for me. Next I thought of Ryan. I pictured our first date, our wedding. Moving to California for his new bank manager job. The memories made me smile. Made me feel Ryan, almost as if I could touch him.

  I stopped in the middle of the room and hugged myself, eyes closed.

  My legs got tired, and I sat in a chair. I checked my watch. Earlier that morning a nurse had reminded me to move it forward one hour for daylight savings time. It was now eleven thirty. Only a half hour until Sherry came. What would I do first when I saw her? Hug her? Burst into tears?

  Time passed slowly.

  I wandered into the bathroom, checking my reflection in the mirror. The bandage on my head looked strange. Even when that came off and the stitches were out, it would take awhile for my hair to grow back. My face still looked thin. I’d lost twenty pounds since Ryan’s funeral. But my eyes. In the past nine months their milk chocolate color had muddied. Now they shone with new hope. And my mouth no longer turned down.

  Footsteps sounded in the hall—that bouncy walk that could only belong to Sherry. She stopped at the threshold of the room and stuck her tousled blonde head inside. “Hi!”

  “Hey!” I hurried out of the bathroom as fast as I could. Sherry looked wonderful in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton top, with her Sunday-go-to-church makeup. And look how blue her eyes were. I’d forgotten that.

  She hustled over to me. I hugged her hard, unable to let go. Finally I pulled back, tears in my eyes.

  She gaped at me. “Wow. I just . . . You really look different.”

  “So do you.”

  “But you’re . . .”

  “I am different. From the inside out. I have energy even though I’m recovering from surgery.”

  Her eyes glistened. “It’s so amazing what I see in your face.”

  It’s called life.

  Love for her simmered in me. What a terrific friend she’d been, especially all those months I’d had nothing to give back. Somehow I’d make it up to her. “I don’t know how to say this, Sherry. It sounds so crazy, but . . . I can feel you again. I’ve been so disconnected. It’s like you were in the dark, and now someone’s turned a spotlight on you.”

  She laid her hands against her cheeks. “I just can’t believe this. It’s more than I hoped for.”

  Me too. Way more. I smiled. “Let’s get out of here.” I walked to the nurse call button and leaned down to push it. “Silly nurses insist on taking me out in a wheelchair—”

  The woman lay on the kitchen floor, eyes fixed open. Blood bubbled from her mouth. Her blouse was stained red.

  I halted, stunned. My hand hung in the air.

  “Lisa?” Sherry’s voice sounded muffled.

  The woman’s face filled my head. No, please. Go away. But still—there she was. Those eyes. The blood . . .

  Somehow I shook off the horrible sight. Pushed the call button. “Yeah.”

  Sherry moved closer. “What just happened? For a second you looked petrified.”

  That woman. So very dead. “I-I’m fine. Really. Sometimes I just . . . get dizzy.”

  Sherry folded her arms. “So much for those silly nurses.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Those dead eyes still vibrated in my head. “You’re right.”

  I sat down hard on the bed. We waited for the nurse, Sherry watching me with concern. Twice I opened my mouth to tell her what was wrong. But I just couldn’t. She was so glad to see me well. I didn’t want to trample on that.

  Besides, these . . . whatever they were would go away.

  Sherry cocked her head at me. “You’re starting to look tired.”

  “Yeah. Guess my mind has more energy than my body. I just need to rest a few days, the doctor said.”

  “Well, you have just had brain surgery.”

  The nurse finally appeared with the wheelchair. I rode out of the hospital like a good patient. Sherry got her car and brought it up to the entrance. The nurse helped me inside. I nodded at my friend. “Home, James.”

  She grinned and started driving. “Listen, once I get you back I’ll see what food you need and go to the store for you.”

  How well she knew me. Before the operation I’d been too worn to think about stocking the kitchen. “That would be great. I take it Jay’s on kid duty.”

  “For the whole blessed afternoon. Maybe we oughtta make a run for the border. We could be in Mexico before he even knows I’m gone.”

  “Uh-huh. You wouldn’t last a nig
ht without your kids. Or your husband.”

  I winced at my own words. But it wasn’t like before. Nothing was like before.

  Surprisingly we were quiet the rest of the way home. I was busy just taking it all in. The blood in my veins now coursed instead of clogged. And I would have sworn the world looked brighter. The trees and grass were greener, the flowers more vibrant. Best of all, the thought of being in my apartment alone no longer terrified me.

  Know what—I should start exercising again. Go running. Do Pilates. Maybe I’d buy some new furniture and clothes.

  The hand raised the knife, dragon ring glinting.

  No, no. No.

  I stared straight ahead, willing the scene to dim. It only grew brighter. My breathing turned shaky. I fought to keep it quiet enough that Sherry wouldn’t notice.

  Where were these pictures coming from? Had I seen the ring in some movie? Maybe the whole thing was from an old film.

  But if that’s all this was, why did the scenes shake me to the core?

  Sherry parked on the street in front of my apartment building. She carried my suitcase to the second floor for me. My legs wobbled, but I made it up the stairs.

  In my apartment, I did a slow pan of the living room, flowing into the kitchen. A long counter served as a separator between the two areas. I’d lived here for almost three years. Now it felt like I was seeing the apartment for the first time. The couch and chairs were brown and beige, with a plain wooden coffee table. Basic colors Ryan had liked. How dull it seemed now. Wouldn’t the place look better with more blue? Maybe some snappy yellow pillows for contrast. And new lamps.

  “Remember all my plants, Sherry? I had flowers everywhere.” It had been my one hobby, and I was forever buying more. I’d loved every one of those plants. I had tulips in the spring. A Christmas cactus. Incredible orchids and bromeliads. Gardenias, and hydrangea, and calla lilies. I’d potted, and fertilized, and nurtured them. But after Ryan was gone, I didn’t care anymore.

  “Sure do. I miss them.”

  “Yeah. They all died.”

  “Watering helps.”

  I elbowed her in the ribs.

  She raised her eyebrows. “So you gonna get some new ones now?”