truth: I could blame it on him, say he pursued me. If I do this, Dr. Shields claims she’ll give me the digital recording. But will it really end then?
No, I realize. There is no right move.
Dr. Shields takes a sip of wine, her eyes staring at me from over the rim of the glass.
The Prisoner’s Dilemma, I think. That’s what she’s re-creating. I read about it once in an article someone posted on Facebook. It’s a common tactic in which suspects are placed in solitary confinement and given incentives to see if they’ll rat each other out.
Dr. Shields sets down her wineglass, the crystal making a delicate chime as it touches the coaster.
There can’t be much time left.
Images collide in my brain: Dr. Shields alone in the French restaurant at a table for two. I see her stroking the crest of the falcon, and feel the warm press of cashmere around my shoulders as I sobbed in her office. A line from her notes in her precise, graceful script: You could become a pioneer in the field of psychological research.
I tried to use the lessons she taught me to trap her tonight. She outmaneuvered me even before I began.
But now I realize it isn’t over, because I’ve finally pinpointed her weak spot: Thomas. He’s the key to undoing her.
My breathing is shallow; a rushing noise fills my head.
I need to think several steps ahead, like she always does. I know that no matter how we answer, Dr. Shields is never going to turn him in; she needs to find a way to blame this on me. Just like she probably did with April to justify giving her the Vicodin.
I was the one under scrutiny by Dr. Shields from the moment I entered her study, but I’ve been scrutinizing her all along, too. I know so much more about her than I realized—everything from the way she walks down a street to what she keeps in her refrigerator and, more important, how her mind operates.
Will it be enough?
“Time’s up,” Dr. Shields announces. “Thomas, would you join me in the dining room?”
I watch the two of them disappear from view and my mind flashes through all of the variables again from Thomas’s perspective. I think about what’s at stake for him: The tabloids would pounce on a story about a handsome therapist and his affair with a wealthy, damaged young woman who committed suicide. He’d probably lose his license, and the Voss family might sue him.
I know quite a bit about Thomas, too. I think back to our encounters, from the museum to the bars to my apartment to the Conservatory Gardens. And the final one, in his office.
With a sudden, swift certainty, I know how he is going to answer.
Dr. Shields comes back into the room less than a minute later, alone. I can’t read what might have just transpired from her expression; it’s as if she is wearing a mask.
She sits down on the end of the love seat closest to my chair. She reaches out and lightly touches my bare leg where there’s a gap between my boots and the hem of my dress. I force myself to remain still, even though I want to recoil.
“Jessica, do you have anything to confess about the true nature of your relationship with my husband?”
I look directly at her. “You’re right. I wasn’t completely honest before. We slept together.” I was worried my voice would waver, but it doesn’t; it sounds assured. “It happened before I knew he was your husband.”
Something changes in her eyes. The light blue of her irises appears to darken. She remains perfectly still for a moment. Then she nods crisply, as it this has confirmed something she already knows. She rises and smooths her dress before heading back toward the dining room.
“Thomas, can you join us?” she calls.
He walks into the room slowly.
“Will you please share with Jessica what you just told me?” she prompts him.
I clasp my hands firmly on my lap and try to smile, but my jaw is clenched too tightly. I can still feel the icy touch of her fingers on my leg.
Thomas drags his eyes to mine. In them I see pure defeat.
“I told her nothing happened between us,” Thomas says dully.
He lied.
I guessed correctly.
He didn’t do it to protect himself, he did it to protect me. He is giving up the opportunity to obtain the visitor’s log.
Dr. Shields is obsessed with morality, with telling the truth. But Thomas understands the