'But you're going to do something?' Nora said. 'Right? I mean, someone put that thing in there. You can take it out.'

The neurologist brushed a lick of raven-black hair from his forehead, then lowered his hand in sudden self-consciousness. He was frightened, Thomas realized. Frightened by the FBI and their demand for confidentiality.

Frightened by the images on the wall behind him. Frightened by the little boy screaming in the Neurological Observation Unit. It spoke to his professionalism that he recovered his equilibrium so quickly.

'Mrs Bible, look. You have to understand that for the moment, your boy isn't in any danger. That means we have time, and that means we have no choice but to be as cautious as possible. Whoeve—'

'But he's screaming!' she shouted. 'My baby's screaming!'

'Nora, please!' Thomas exclaimed. 'You don't understand.' He glanced at the doctor. 'The amygdala simply controls the scream reflex—the reflex, honey.'

Nora regarded him with wide, tearful eyes. 'So he's not terrified?'

Thomas shook his head. 'It's just an uncontrollable reflex that keeps firing over and over again. Like the hiccups. Inside he's the same boy we know and love, scared by all the fuss, frustrated by his inability to stop screaming, but nothing more.'

'No,' Nora said, as though chastising herself for her fears. She looked penitently down to her palms. 'No. Neil wouldn't do that. Not to our baby.' When she looked up, tears coursed freely down her cheeks. 'He was your best friend, Tommy. Your best friend!'

And your lover.

Dr Chadapaddai handed her some tissues, then stepped back, his face professionally blank.

'Come,' Thomas said to her, standing up. 'I'll drive you home.'

Nora wiped her eyes, laughed. 'I'm not leaving him.' She stood, looked about in a witless, frantic manner, then began shaking her hands from her wrists. 'I'm… I'm…'

'Ask my administrative assistant,' the Chief Neurologist said, opening the door. 'He'll show you to the restroom, Mrs Bible.'

Thomas lingered, telling Nora he'd meet her in the hall. One of them had to go home, look after Ripley. They would have to arrange shifts or something…

'You do know—' Dr Chadapaddai began after the door closed behind her.

'I know,' Thomas interrupted. Frankie experienced every iota of the terror expressed in his screams. Thomas had thought his lie well-intentioned, as a means to help Nora cope, but he realized he was primarily interested in managing her response, no different than Chadapaddai, he supposed. It occurred to him that this was something he had always done. Intercept and reinterpret…

'Bad idea,' the neurologist said.

'If this was all we had on our plate, I'd agree,' Thomas replied, wiping a tear from his cheek. 'You saw her. Knowing that Frankie actually… actually…'