Page 49 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

Stronger than I expected.

Dorianfliesacross the room, his tall, spindly body slamming into the opposite wall. With a sharpcrack,his mask splits down the middle. I gasp and drop my hand, cutting off the surge of power.

“Oh, God,” I say. “Wait, I didn’t mean—”

Dorian looks up at me, and I get a glimpse of twisted scar tissue and missing flesh before he covers his face and disappears from view.

Ezra, pale and trembling, turns to me. “Thank you,” he whispers.

I stare wordlessly at the spot where Dorian disappeared. The shock in his expression keeps replaying in my mind.

For a few seconds, we are both frozen. Then someone clears their throat behind us. Ezra and I both turn to see a woman in a sharp suit standing in the open doorway, her expression one of barely contained fury.

“Mr. Bradford,” she says, eyes narrowed on Ezra. “What exactly are you doing?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Dr. Wright.” Ezra is frozen in place, his mouth opening and shutting multiple times as he struggles to find words. “I can explain.”

“Go on, then,” she says. “Explain to me why you appear to be running an undocumented, unapproved experiment in one of my labs over the weekend. Involving an outsider who I’m quite sure is not approved to be in a subject’s room.”

She’s not looking at me, but I still feel the full weight of her judgment. Ezra’s face colors.

“This is for one of my subjects,” he says. “You don’t understand—”

“You’re right. I don’t. Because you didn’t give me a chance to understand it.” Dr. Wright folds her arms over her chest, fixing him with a full glower. “Did you really think you could get away with this? That I wouldn’t notice? I was willing to ignore to some of the discrepancies because Itrustedyou, and I thought you would come to me soon enough. But when I noticed thatsomeone elseused your keycard while you were in a meeting with me,andthe cameras were shut off…” Dr. Wright finally glances at me. “Giving unauthorized access to a patient’s room is beyond the bounds of what I consider acceptable, Ezra, no matter how much trust I’ve placed in you.”

I go rigid. So does Ezra. But though he could easily blame the stolen keycard on me, he says nothing, his jaw set.

“Whatever this is, it’s over now. If I can’t trust you to handle your responsibility, then—”

“Dr. Wright—”

“It was me,” I blurt. “I stole his keycard. He didn’t know.”

Dr. Wright turns to me. “And who exactlyareyou?”

“Gwen Bailey,” I say. “I’m a ghost expert Ezra brought in for consultation.” I clench my hands at my sides. I can’t let Ezra take the fall for this.Even if it means never seeing Dorian again?a traitorous voice whispers in the back of my head, but I push it away. “He came here today to confront me because he realized I kept using his keycard to come here after hours. None of it was actually him.”

Dr. Wright scowls at me, and then at Ezra. “Whether that’s true or not, you’re responsible for the people you bring into our facility,” she says. “Consider yourself lucky that I’m not firing you on the spot. You disappoint me, Ezra.”

* * *

I’m numb as the security guard takes my ID card. My shoulders are slumped, my eyes on my shoes. I can’t even summon the energy to argue about it. What’s the point? It’s all over, anyway. It would’ve been over even if we hadn’t been caught by Ezra’s boss. Because Dorian will never be allowed to leave this place. He admitted that he killed my parents.

All I can think is:Why?

Dorian isn’t a fool. He may be scattered and out of his mind sometimes, but not enough that he’d be oblivious to what his admission of guilt meant. Even if it’s true, why admit it? The question plagues me as security escorts me off the premises of the MRF.

Ezra walks with me. “I have to come back to talk to Dr. Wright,” he mutters as we go, not meeting my eyes. “But I’ll drive you to your car first.”

We spend the ride in silence. When we finally reach my car, still waiting in front of the house we fled a few hours ago, we both sit for several long moments.

“You should go somewhere safe,” he says. “I’ll come back and deal with the house after…whatever happens.”

He still won’t meet my eyes. When I reach for his hand, seeking reassurance, he flinches away.

I recoil, shocked.

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