Free Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center) by Vicki Hinze

strange.” She tingled all over, tense and prickly. “I think I must live a pretty dull life. And I think I must like it that way.”
    “I know this is difficult,” Ben said, “but I do have another question, if you don’t mind.”
    It was a rhetorical permission request, and everyone at the conference table knew it. Steeling for another barrage, she said, “Go ahead.”
    “You have a head injury, and yet you didn’t go to the hospital. I don’t understand why not. When injured, even someone who believes they live a dull life would go to the hospital.” Ben hiked a broad shoulder. “It’s the logical thing to do.”
    So now she was illogical too? Acid churned inside her and her resentment burned deeper. She had enough to worry about without him being deliberately antagonistic. His doctors had vouched for her—and, frankly, she was frazzled. Who wouldn’t be? “Excuse me?”
    “Why didn’t you go to the hospital? Your head was bleeding—it had to have been to warrant the bandage on it now.”
    Resisting the urge to touch the white bandage above her temple, she frowned. The tape stuck to her forehead tugged at her skin, and her patience shrank, razor-thin. “I agree. When injured, going to the hospital is logical. But when you’ve been dragged out of your car and into the woods and beaten to a pulp, you don’t always react logically.” In her own defense, she couldn’t resist a little jab. “Not if you’re human, anyway.”
    Dr. Talbot cleared his throat. “Immense amounts of adrenaline can mask symptoms like pain, Ben. Susan probably didn’t feel the head injury—though she needed four stitches, and I expect she’s feeling it now.”
    The anesthetic had worn off; the wound burned and, thanks to this conversation, now her temples throbbed too. But his was a reminder to Ben to take it easy on her, and grateful for that, she slid Dr. Talbot a silent thank-you.
    “I suppose.” That subtle shift’s hiatus ended, and the hard lines alongside Ben’s mouth softened. He swiveled his gaze to the director. “Peggy, what do we have in the way of a background check on our mystery woman?”
    “We’re a bit hampered, Ben, considering she doesn’t know who she is.”
    Ben
. Susan studied him. It didn’t suit him. It just wasn’t hard enough for someone so distant. So … removed.
    “What about a fingerprint check?”
    “Nothing yet.” Peggy shot Susan an apologetic look that was mirrored on Dr. Talbot and Dr. Harper’s faces.
    Being discussed as though she weren’t in the room irked Susan. She shifted on her chair, feeling a lot like a goldfish stuck in a bowl. The man was definitely on the warpath, looking for any reason to dispute or debunk her.
    Still, she had an unshakable sense that his motive, while insulting, was more like a self-preservation tactic than meanness. And in fairness, she was probably a little hypersensitive right now. Still, he should know that. He was a former counselor who owns a crisis center. Maybe he did know …
    How could she know that the root of his attitude was in self-preservation? How could she feel so sure of it? He’d been nothing but unreceptive, intentionally attempting to intimidate her, but—Wait a minute. That couldn’t have anything to do with her. The man didn’t know her any more than she knew him.
    Susan
.
    Of course. It had to be about his Susan. She shifted positions mentally, put herself in his place, and looked at her showing up here and the surrounding circumstances. The picture looked very different from his side of the table—or from his side of the computer screen.
    This was an awful ordeal for her, but it might even be a worse one for Ben. He’d lost his son and wife—a wife who looked like her and used the same name. Naturally he was rattled. He looked at her and saw someone trying to portray herself as his wife—or, considering the visual similarities, worse. He saw his wife returned from the dead …
    Susan stroked the little gold