Page 99 of Mind Maze

At this, he snorts out a laugh. “God, no. That place is an outdated relic. Plus, that’s not where my lab is. We’re going to see Kaitlyn. I specialize in kids, you know.”

Every hair on my body stands on end with those words.

“What does that mean? What are you doing to Kaitlyn?” I demand, voice wobbling. “I swear, if you touch her—”

“Relax,” he says in a gentle tone. “You misunderstand. I’m a pediatric psychiatrist. I don’t hurt children. I help them.”

He thinks this will make me trust him more?

That makes my worry for her skyrocket. I know how those doctors are, especially with a child. She’ll become a lab rat for them just like I was.

“I took over the family practice when Dad went into politics,” he explains. “Really spruced up the old place too. Dad, if anything, is skilled at securing funding for his endeavors. He never had to come up with a dime. People from all over the world and all walks of life believed in what he did.”

I get the awful feeling that he truly thinks what they do borders on sainthood. Manipulating people and brainwashing them is the opposite of everything that’s good in this world.

These people are evil.

End of story.

Rather than argue with him on the morality of it all, I listen intently. Every word he says is a gift—a piece of a puzzle I’m working diligently on in the back of my mind. All these people and programs and situations are connected. It doesn’t quite make sense yet, but I know I’m on the cusp of finding the answer that unlocks the full picture.

Doc Junior absently taps his fingers on his knee, over and over and over again. It’s a familiar pattern. One that cuts me deep.

I know someone else who does that.

Who?

Cold dread pulses through me like a sonar in the deep arctic waters, echoing through me, forcing me to feel it.

I allow my mind to run in its endless circles as I blindly grasp at the memories that are just out of reach. At one time, I’d have chided myself for overthinking or making up stories in my head. Now that I know what these people are capable of, I don’t discount anything. A lead, even as small as a familiarity with his tapping, is a lead. A tiny thread like this must be pulled to see where it goes.

His phone rings and he takes the call. “Mmhmm. Yes. I have her. On my way. About two hours out.”

Two hours out?

Where are we going?

He ends the call and flashes me one of his signature grins. It’s achingly familiar. I hate that I feel right on the cusp of something but can’t seem to touch it.

“You’re not bringing me to see Kaitlyn out of the goodness of your heart,” I say to Doc Junior. “There’s an ulterior motive. I want to know what it is.”

“You’re a Langston,” he says as if that answers my question. “My father and your father go way back. Just by being you, you’re a welcomed part of our privileged world.”

If only he knew my father has always treated me as a problem, not a princess in a palace.

“We’re practically family.” He grins, the corners of his mouth stretching creepily. It reminds me of a horror show I watched on television once where all the people had overly huge smiles that were the opposite of friendly. Is he going to morph into one of those creatures and sink his teeth into my neck?

I shiver and Doc Junior mistakes it for a chill. He reaches forward to adjust the rear seats’ heater vents. With the hot air blowing on my face, my eyes start to feel dry, which makes me want to close them.

We’re driving somewhere far.

Dad seems mad about having to skip his work meetings to take me. Bastian has been trying to cheer me up, but I’m still afraid.

What if he doesn’t want me anymore?

Bastian, upon noticing me watching him, stops mashing buttons on his phone. “Neil has the new BlackBerry Z10 too,” he explains. “We can type messages and send them to each other.”

Since I’ve recently learned to read, he shows me the screen.

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