Murmuration - Page 117
Greg’s inclined to agree. “No,” he says. “I don’t want anything.”
Dr. King nods. “We can always come back to it later if you—”
“Where am I?”
She cocks her head at him. “What do you remember?”
He scowls at her. He’s liking her less and less. “I asked you first.”
She purses her lips. “How about this. I will answer one of your questions if you answer one of mine.”
He glares at her.
“Greg, I am not your enemy here.”
“So you say. But I still have no idea who you are or what you want with me. So forgive me if I don’t quite believe you.”
They Came from Outer Space, Mike whispers furiously. Ask her where Sean is. You have to find Sean.
And it’s weird, for Greg, because he understands the pain in Mike’s voice. There is this divide, yes, this duality between them. A sense of separation, of distinct lives lived, but Greg feels it too, like an ache in his heart. He can’t imagine how it must feel for Mike.
If he’s even real.
I’m real, Mike insists.
So am I, Greg replies.
“Fine,” Greg says to Dr. King. “The camera. Who is it broadcasting to?”
Dr. King arches an eyebrow at him. “Dr. Hester. Some associates of his. What do you remember before April 22, 2015?”
He laughs bitterly. “You want my whole life story?”
“No. I am specifically asking for what you remember before April 22, 2015.”
He starts to sweat. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “It was…. There was Jenny.”
“And who is Jenny?”
“My wife.”
I don’t have a wife, Mike says frantically. There’s only Sean.
“Okay. Do you remember what happened to her?”
He thinks, She came after me with that damn knife. We’d been fighting, and she came after me with that overpriced knife that we never use. We fell through the glass and onto the balcony. And then I—
He says, “My daughter. My daughter happened to her.”
Dr. King nods. “Your daughter. That’s right. What was her name?”
They knew. Early in on the pregnancy. It was called ectopia cordis. Her heart had formed on the outside of her chest. They wanted to terminate the pregnancy, but Jenny said no, and Greg said, Sure, Jenny, sure, if that’s what you want. They were warned. The prognosis for ectopic heart was poor. Infection. Cardiac failure. Hypoxemia. Any number of things.
She surprised them. She was a fighter. She had this smile, this beautiful little smile that broke Greg’s heart every time he saw it. Da, she’d say toward the end, attached to oxygen. Da. Da. Da. In the end, though, it was hypoxemia that got her.
“Becca,” he says. “Her name was Becca. Becca Marie Hughes.”
“That’s right,” Dr. King says. “That was her name.” Then she waits.
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