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"Max, I'm being honest with you when I say that I wish we had more time to talk," she said when she returned to the room.

"I believe you, Doc. Even if you haven't believed me."

Susan paused for a moment, thoughtful. "It's not that I don't believe you... It's complicated."

"It really is. But I do want you to know that I told you the truth. I can't do that with everybody. It means that you're good at your job."

Susan stared at the man in the chair opposite her. The bandages. She had studied medicine before getting into psychiatry and she could not see how the injuries he had come in with could have been self-inflicted. The officers who had brought him in had assured her, however, that there was no evidence of any other cause at the motel. She had a fleeting inclination to drive over there herself, just to see...

"Max," she said. "I'm going to make sure that the person who is here to pick you up has my card. And if you ever want to continue our conversation, please call and make an appointment."

Max smiled. "Thanks, Dr. Longfellow."

She returned his smile. "They're just finishing up the paperwork for your release now. The nurse should be in shortly."

"Doc, can you tell me who it is? Who came to get me?"

"His name is Brogan Mirk."

Previously in the Metaplex...