Mind Magic
“Sure, some people someone might say she’d been doing that for months and months, living under other names, but she didn’t see it that way. Pretending wasn’t the same as lying, and she’d always liked role-playing.One reason she hated lying was that she was so bad at it. Sound feeble, she reminded herself as she picked up her phone. Not panicked. Panicked talked fast. Feeble talked slow.She stared at her computer monitor, where a news program was playing, while the phone rang. And rang. Finally Mr. Burgenstein picked up. “This is . . . it’s Danny,” she said, working hard not to pant into the phone. She didn’t want him to think she was dying. “I’m . . . really sorry. I’m sick.”“Sick?” he said suspiciously. “What kind of sick?”“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I keep throwing up.” That was almost true, though so far she’d swallowed the bile that tried to come up.“Why are you calling me? If you think I’m gonna come over there and hold your hand at fucking eleven o’clock at night—”“No!
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