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“Good.” He smiled. “Come on. She’s in the drawing room.”
I took a deep breath and followed him downstairs.
He paused at the door to the living room. “Ready?”
I nodded, and he opened the door and ushered me in.
Chapter VIII Rain
“Dr. Mills, this is my niece, Emily,” Dylan said with a smile.
Dr. Mills was younger than I expected, with wiry black hair straightened into a neat bob, a kind open face, and soft, dark eyes. She was dressed in smart black jeans, a white shirt, and a black pinstriped blazer. In my old jeans and T-shirt, I felt scruffy next to her.
“Hello, Emily. I’m Claire,” she said, extending her hand.
I shook it firmly in the hope that she would think I was an upright and stable human being, and not crazy.
Be polite.
“Hi,” I answered, trying to keep the wariness out of my voice.
“Shall we sit?” she asked.
“Sure.” I sat on the far edge of the L-shaped sofa.
She looked at Doctor Dyl. “Are you staying, Dr. Knightley?”
“Should I?” Dylan asked.
Claire turned to me, and I shrugged, not knowing what to say.
“Why don’t I talk to Emily alone initially?”
Dylan nodded, his relief obvious, and promptly headed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Claire leaned back, looking relaxed, her long legs crossed at the ankles in front of her. She was wearing bright-red patent leather shoes.
They were cool.
She placed a large leather folio on her knee. Nervously, I clasped my hands together. What would she do?
“I’m just going to talk to you for a while, and maybe take a few notes—if that’s okay. I know about your family, and first of all may I say how sorry I am for your loss.”
I nodded, because I still had no idea how to respond when people said this to me.
She smiled. “You know that Dylan is very concerned about you.”
I nodded again.
“Why do you think that is?”
“He thinks I’m delusional and suicidal.” Might as well cut to the chase.
She raised her eyebrows a fraction, trying to conceal her surprise. “Are you?”
“No,” I said simply.
She smiled again. “Why do you think he thinks you’re delusional and suicidal?”
