Page 114 of Private Exhibit
Then a violent jolt shot between them. Andy winced and automatically recoiled, pulling back to himself in a fit of self-preservation. He swayed and caught himself on the bed, then found Devon's body convulsing, the monitors rapidly beeping.
Oh my gods.“What–” He froze there, his entire body trembling in panic. “What's happening?”
Devon went still, and the monitors turned silent.
Andy held his breath.
Beep.
Andy gasped, unable to move, staring at the monitor.
Beep.
“We've got a heartbeat!”
Several people cheered. Andy winced, suddenly realizing they had an audience. But he couldn't spare that any thought. He obsessively watched the monitor, watching every tiny indication of a signal.
Then Devon stirred, his face pinched with pain.
But his eyes slowly opened. Those breathtaking eyes that saw so much beauty in the world.
Devon blinked, looking like he was clawing his way out of sleep, then spotted Andy. The boy stared at him, looking completely in shock, but as he studied Andy's face, his own expression softened, and a smile slowly took over.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 39
DEVON COULDN'T believe it. He was going to live! And not just live. He was going to be one hundred percent, completely cured.
There was still a lot of work to do. They'd only gotten through a fraction of his nerves—the ones that fed all his most vital functions—but the repairs held, which meant they could keep going. They could fix the rest of his nervous system. It would be fully intact. The attacks would end for good.
And Andy loved him!
Those hadn't been mere words. Devon had felt the full truth of Andy's declaration coming straight from the depths of his soul.
Andy loved him. He really meant it.
Devon had been so close to giving up. He'd been right on the verge of completely letting go, ready to let himself die so it could all be over.
But he couldn't miss out on this. He finally had the one thing he'd always wanted more than anything else in the world.
Devon spent several more days in the hospital while Dr. Crawford helped him learn how to protect his mind from the telepathic plane. They couldn't close it off completely—not when he still needed more work to be done—but at least Devon would be able to shut out all the chaos. He'd be able to close the door on the voices, only letting them in when and if he chose.
Maybe, someday, he'd be able to use it to do some good. Pay it forward for all the people who had saved his life over the years.He could do like Andy and help ghosts transition. Or maybe he could do something like Dr. Crawford's mother did, hearing people's suffering and stopping crimes before they were over.
For now, though, Devon just wanted a chance to live his life. To enjoy the world. Just havingpossibilitieswas enough. He'd never had that before.
And he had plenty of time now to make a decision or change his mind.
Once he felt confident in Dr. Crawford's lessons, and Andy was doubly sure he was stable enough to be discharged, Devon finally got to go home. He was still confined to a wheelchair, the bulk of his motor and sensory nerves still waiting in line to get fixed, but it would happen. Devon could get out of the hospital, and Andy could continue the treatments at home.
But there was one thing Andy insisted on before they left. He had Dr. Crawford go back in and repair Devon's optic nerves, claiming Devon wasn't allowed to have an attack that rendered him temporarily blind. Not even for a second.
Devon couldn't make sense of it, other than the fact that Andy knew he liked watching him. But to have Dr. Crawford do it instead of doing it himself? When Devon asked Andy about that, Andy said he didn't want to risk Devon reading his thoughts while he was in there. It would spoil the surprise.
But what surprise?
Andy made a call as the car pulled up to his building and turned into the underground garage. “Are we ready?”
