Free Falter by Haven Cage Page A

insanity, and offered a thankful smile. He patted my back, then moved to open the door. “Ready to go back to your room?”
    I wiped the dampness from my cheeks with my sleeve and nodded. Walking toward the door, I noticed Doug staring at me with a strange expression on his face.  
    “Your forehead…there’s something there.” He squinted and pointed above my brow.
    “What are you talking about?” I raised my hand to touch my forehead. The pressure of my fingers caused the burning sensation there to intensify. I gasped. “What is it?” I asked, wincing.
    “Um, I think I need to take you back to the room and let the doctor talk to you.” His confused and worried tone renewed the sense of panic I was trying to suppress.  
    Before stepping into the hallway leading back to the Emergency Department, I scanned the room one last time for clues from the phantom. Nothing was out of place, but the faint smell of rotten eggs hadn’t quite dissipated yet.  
    I palmed my stinging forehead and let Doug lead the way back.

    Dr. Scott showed up at my bedside about forty minutes later. The stinging on my head had lessened during the excruciatingly long time lapse. All I wanted now was to be back with my family. For Gavyn to hold my hand again. For the comfort of George’s cushy body against mine.
    The curtain slid back, and Dr. Scott greeted me with a pleasantly confident smile. “Okay, well, the scan didn’t show anything that we need to worry about.”
    “But it did show something?” I asked, sensing he was omitting information.
    He pursed his lips in contemplation then answered, “At the end of the test an artifact appeared. The tech said that it disappeared as quickly as it came. He thinks it was a computer glitch. It wasn’t on the films, so I’m not worried.” His demeanor reflected his words.
    “So I’m okay? Could it be something psychological?” Maybe I’m crazy after all.
    “I can refer you to a therapist if you want, but I think your experiences are stress related.” He smiled reassuringly. “Now, the tech said you might have scratched yourself during the exam?”
    “I guess.” I pulled back a clump of hair covering my forehead.
    His expression changed for a split second, almost unnoticeably. He was hiding his true feelings—a skill he probably learned in medical school. “It looks more like a burn to me,” Dr. Scott remarked as he leaned in toward me and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing my skin. “It’s a little singed around the edges, but not deep.”  
    I watched him closely, monitoring any variation in his manner that might seem out of place. Then, his eyes changed. He was studying the mark more intently. He’d found something odd about it.
    “What is it?” I tried not to sound alarmed.
    “Well, I didn’t notice it at first, but it looks a little like...,” he paused, seeming to second-guess what he saw. He handed me a small mirror from the supply cart beside my bed. “I’ll just let you look for yourself. It’s nothing, I’m sure.”  
    I held the mirror up to examine my face. At first glance, it looked like two thin lines were burned into my head, one intersecting through the middle of the other. I rubbed at it to see if that would smooth it out. It didn’t; it just hurt like hell.
    “Do you see anything strange about it?” the doctor questioned, watching my face for a sign of recognition.
    I stared harder, searching for what he saw. “I guess not. What’s so strange about it, besides the fact it shouldn’t be there?”
    “Are you a religious person, Ms. Richards?”
    I shook my head. Though I’d never been much on prayer and church, I had read the Bible and studied a few major religions at my library for moral and cultural direction.  
    “To me, it looks very similar to an inverted cross. Probably doesn’t mean a thing. The precise positioning is just a little strange.” The doctor penned some notes on a notepad, while I stared at the mirror.
    I finally understood