Free Dream Walker by Shannan Sinclair Page B

over like an overcast sky that never seemed to focus on anything but the equations and formulas in his own mind’s eye. Though Aislen was pretty good with math, this language was beyond her ability to translate.
    Aislen handed Mr. Lange his med cup. He took it in his shaky hand and stared deeply into it for a few moments. Aislen watched him, wondering what he was looking for. Reading the tea leaves of his destiny, maybe?
    She was curious as to what kind of assignment Troy had planned for her today. He was always requesting her assistance in different group sessions, exposing her to as many different levels of psychiatric care that he could. This appointment was new. Aislen had never been to the A.R.C. You couldn’t go in there without a special clearance, but you could accompany someone who had one. She was actually looking forward to seeing what the facility was about. And although it was sending a flutter of nervousness through her stomach, the opportunity of being alone with Troy outside the facility walls wasn’t an unappealing proposition.
    Aislen looked down the main corridor toward the nurse’s station. Leaning back against the counter talking to Rachel was Troy. Aislen couldn’t help but marvel at the easy rapport he had with people. Rachel took a hard, intimidating stance in the presence of most doctors, but she treated Troy as she treated her nursing staff, with a good-natured warmth.
    Troy laughed at something Rachel said and Aislen felt a pang of jealousy, which was completely ludicrous. Rachel was an awesome lady, but she was at least 20 years older than Troy, and married . And what did Aislen care anyway? She was losing it. It had been a slow spiral down into the crazies for her today. Maybe the stress of her upcoming finals really was getting to her. She didn’t feel that overwhelmed by her classes, but maybe she was more anxious about them than she realized. Maybe her “all work and no play” motto was taking a toll on her psyche. Maybe she could run some of this by Troy. He should have some expertise about stress, being a therapist and all.
    She looked back down at Mr. Lange and found him staring back up at her. The clouds in his eyes had departed and they were a clear and bright blue.
    “You aren’t Astrid,” he said.
    Aislen was shocked. Never in the four years she’d worked here had he had a moment of clarity like this. “Uh, no, Mr. Lange. I’m not. My name is Aislen.”
    “Ash-lynn,” he said, rolling it across his tongue as though he were correcting her. Her blood turned cold and a knot seized up in her stomach. The only person who had ever pronounced it that way was her father, all those years ago.
    “It means ‘dream’ you know,” he continued.
    No, she didn’t know. She didn’t know it even had a meaning. She could only stare at the old man, speechless.
    Mr. Lange leaned over in his chair, as if he was going to tell her a secret, and whispered to her, “Are you awake, yet?”
    Aislen dropped the med chart, sending it clattering down the hall. Her head was in a full spin now. A claw of ice shivered down her scalp then raked down her whole body like fingernails on a chalkboard. She felt like she would faint or vomit, or both at the same time.
    Almost immediately, she felt a secure warm arm holding her up.
    “Aislen, are you okay?” It was Troy. Rachel was standing right behind him.
    “What happened, hon,” she asked. “Do you feel all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    Aislen caught her breath and shook her head trying to clear it. She became very aware of the heat radiating off of Troy. He was holding her close against him. She could feel the taut ripples of muscle beneath his dress shirt and she thought she would faint for real this time but for a completely different reason. She pushed herself off him, regaining her composure.
    “No, no. I am fine. I...I just slipped on something.”
    Rachel looked down at Sigmund. “Mr. Lange, are you drooling again? Trying