If you only had this much to go on, would you want more:

Chapter one

Thursday, June 19, 2003

5:02 p.m.

“If I’m going to tell you a story, I should start at the beginning.  Once upon a time and all that.”

“Hmm…”  Dr. Lutz flipped through the papers I’d had to fill out in the lobby.

I shifted myself on the edge of an ottoman, which was the least-upholstered thing in the room, and stared at the balding man across from me.  I wasn’t sure what I was doing in his office and rather resented it.

“But if I’m not Cinderella, how do I know where the beginning really is?  How much do you need to know?  How much am I willing to tell you?  Does it really matter, that first stolen beer or the cross-country road trip that didn’t seem to end until I was staring down high school graduation?  Does the story begin when I was born?  Or when Was it when I was born, or when I was reborn at the hands of people who didn’t know to leave well enough alone?”

He templed his fingers.  “Let’s start with why you’re here, Ms. Groves.”


“Davis.”  He nodded and made a note on a chart.

I shoved reddish-blonde hair behind my ear and watched him.  I caught myself touching an old scar and wondered why anyone thought I suddenly needed a Dr. Lutz now.  “How do I decide when not to lie to you?”

“Why would you want to lie?”

“Because I don’t always tell the truth.  Most people are quite happy living with lies.  They’re easier.”

“If you can’t tell me the truth, I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

I considered.

“What made you make the call?  What made you really make the appointment?”

I thought.  Nik and Tom had both been pestering me to talk to someone.  It was unlikely that their concern for my well-being would suddenly affect my actions, though.  I’d been having vivid, violent nightmares off and on for well over a decade.  That didn’t seem all that unusual.  What was unusual was that they’d suddenly stopped.