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don’t think he did it,” he said. “I think someone else did it.” He hesitated. “And I think it’s going to happen again.”

Lisa stared at him, then stood up. “That’s an awful thing to say,” she whispered, her eyes furious. “If you’re trying to convince me you’re nuts, you’ve just done it. Nobody but a crazy person would say something like that!” Picking up her books and her bag, she hurried out into the street, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Alex, his eyes empty, watched her go.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ellen listened quietly as her husband once again recited the terms of the release they’d signed before Alex’s operation. Even after more than an hour’s discussion, she was still certain he was overreacting. “Marsh, you’re being absolutely paranoid,” she said when he at last fell silent. “I don’t care what you think Raymond Torres is up to, because you’re wrong. Raymond isn’t up to anything. He’s Alex’s doctor, and whatever he’s doing is in Alex’s best interests.”

“Then why won’t he let us see the records?” Marsh demanded, and Ellen could only shake her head wearily.

“I don’t know. But I’m sure there’s an explanation, and it seems to me the person you should be talking to is Raymond, not me.”

Marsh had been standing next to the fireplace, leaning on the mantel, but now he wheeled around to face his wife. He hadn’t gotten through to her at all. No matter what he told her—about the wall of secrecy Torres had erected around Alex’s case, about the terms of the release, in which they’d given Torres full legal custody of Alex—she still remained steadfast in her defense of the man. To her, it came down to only one thing—Torres had saved Alex’s life.

“Besides, what does it matter?” he heard her asking. “Why are the records so important? The point is that whatever he did, it worked!” Suddenly the calm façade she had been maintaining slipped, and her voice took on a bitter edge. “I should think you’d be grateful! You always said Alex was brilliant—gifted, even—and now Raymond’s proved it.”

“But there’s more to it than that. For Christ’s sake, Ellen. Don’t you even see Alex anymore? He’s like a machine! He doesn’t feel anything. Not for anyone or anything. He’s … well, in some ways he’s just like your precious Raymond Torres. And it’s not changing.”

Ellen’s eyes flashed with sudden anger. Though she knew that what she was about to say would only widen the chasm between them, she didn’t try to hold the words back. “So that’s what it’s all about! I knew it! I knew when this whole thing started that it had nothing to do with the release. It’s Raymond, isn’t it? In the end, it all comes down to the same thing. You’re jealous, Marsh. He did what you couldn’t do, and you can’t stand it.”

Marsh stood silently for a moment, then nodded briefly. “It started out that way,” he admitted, moving away from the fireplace to flop into his favorite easy chair. “I’m not going to pretend it didn’t. But something’s wrong, Ellen. The more I think about it, the less I understand it. How is it possible that Alex could have made such a phenomenal recovery intellectually, and physically, and show no progress at all emotionally?”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation—” Ellen began.

“Oh, there is!” Marsh interrupted. He rose to his feet again and began nervously pacing the room. “And it’s all in the records that Torres won’t let us see.”

Ellen sighed and stood up. “This is getting us nowhere. All we’re doing is going in circles. I’m sure Raymond has his reasons for keeping the records closed, and I’m sure they’re valid. As for the rest of it—the terms of the release …” She hesitated, then plunged on. “Well, I’m afraid that’s a problem you’re going to have to deal with yourself.”

“You mean you can accept those terms?” Marsh asked, his voice heavy with disbelief.

Ellen nodded. “I’m sure they’re there to protect Alex, and I’m sure Raymond will explain them to me. In fact, he started to the other day.”

“The other day?” Marsh asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I talked to him,” Ellen replied. “When you were going to pull Alex out of school and send him down to Stanford, I talked to Raymond about it. I was … well, I was afraid you might ignore his advice. At any rate, he assured me that I had nothing to worry about. He said … well, he said that