“I jerk up and open my eyes, taking a moment to remember where I am, the cushioned ground, the never-ending fluorescent sky. In the doorway is the silhouette of a man. For a moment, in my haze, I think it’s Jude, but the man takes a few steps into the room in his shined shoes, places a stool on the ground, and I can see it’s Dr. Wilson. He smiles as though nothing had ever happened. “Let’s talk about prophecies,” he says. “What the hell?” I ask groggily. “You were gone for weeks.” ... “So? We didn’t have a schedule.” “But I didn’t think you were coming back,” I say. “Mrs. New said some case manager was deciding if you’d still be my counselor.” “Did she?” he asks, eyes scanning his yellow notepad. “How interesting.” “So you’re still my counselor?” “I’m here, aren’t I?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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