Chapter 14 He’s Hiding Something
He’s Hiding Something
Emily's Search History: Signs your patient is lying
Emily
I can’t stop replaying Eli's furious outburst in my mind—the way his face reddened, his voice rising, and the slam of the door echoing in my ears.
This is precisely why personal opinions are not to be shared. I robbed him of the chance to figure things out on his own. He wasn't ready to hear that yet.
I'm beginning to question my suitability for this particular case. While he claims to need assistance, I often wonder about his honesty. He’s hiding something from me. Something important. But I can’t figure out what.
Over lunch, I can’t stop myself from looking. Eli’s family history.
Mother: Melanie Calder
Father: Arthur Calder
No siblings. No living family members.
It’s his father that has me most interested.
He’s clearly the reason for Eli’s obsessions—even if he can’t admit that to himself.
I pull open Google, my fingers flying over the keys.
It’s in case he comes back.
This will help me help him.
The lies I tell myself are thin. My personal curiosity is stronger than my professional.
Arthur Calder, respected Chelmsford businessman, dies suddenly.
Well, at least Eli wasn’t lying about that.
Arthur’s son sells the house he inherited for ￡1.3 million
Fuck. That’s a lot of money.
I don’t find anything of any interest really. Just that Eli’s father was a well-liked man. Clearly, he hid the other side of his personality well. The one that broke Eli.
Closing the tabs, I try to forget about Eli, my mind drifting elsewhere.
My stalker has been unusually quiet. I've not even been feeling his presence in the flat. I’m not sure what that means—perhaps he’s grown bored of me and disappeared. That’s the most likely explanation. It’s not like I’m very interesting. All I do is read and eat.
Eli hasn’t returned to therapy. I can’t keep him off my mind for long.
Apparently, when Kayla called, he said that he’s decided that therapy isn’t for him.
I wish I could contact him and convince him to give it a shot with a new therapist—but I’ve already crossed too many professional boundaries with him.
Instead, I’m throwing myself into my other patients. Now that I have a gap in my schedule I’ve taken on a new client that’s been on the waiting list for a while.
It’s a little unclear from his form what exactly it is he wants help with. But I’m hopeful that I’ll understand by the end of the first session.
I step out into the waiting room, finding a man who looks to be around twenty-five. He looks up at the sound of my heels on the hardwood floor.
Something about him puts me on edge—but that’s not unusual in my line of work. He’s normal looking really—short blonde hair, blue eyes, a pleasant smile. So why do I get a strange vibe?
“Liam?” I ask, smiling warmly despite the chill running through me.
He grins, getting up to follow me inside.
I sit in my usual armchair, while he takes a seat on the sofa.
“My name is Doctor Morgan. I like to start these sessions by asking you to tell me a bit about yourself to begin with…” I give him my usual speech that I do with all my new clients then sit back and wait.
“Thank you for taking the time to see me,” Liam starts. “I’ve been struggling with anxiety and intrusive thoughts.”
He doesn’t say anything more.
“Okay, and how long has this been troubling you?”
His knee jolts up and down, fingers grasping his thighs. “Most of my life, but it’s gotten worse in the past few months.”
“And when you say anxiety, tell me how that feels to you.”
He stands and starts to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. “It’s like… something terrible is going to happen. I don’t know what. I don’t know why. But I know it will.”
“Is this anxiety always there, or is it worse at certain times?”
He continues pacing. “It’s always crawling under my skin, buzzing like a live wire. But it’s worse with the thoughts.”
“The intrusive thoughts? Tell me about them.”
“I have these thoughts about people I don’t know. I see them once, and then I can’t stop thinking about them. I imagine conversations with them. I wonder what they’re doing. I know it’s not normal. That I shouldn’t be so fixated.”
“Do the thoughts ever make you want to harm someone?”
He finally stops his pacing, swivelling to face me. “Sometimes.”
“Have you ever harmed anyone, Liam?”
He’s in front of me in a flash. “Never. You have to believe me.”
I rear back. “Okay, I believe you.”
He holds up his hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
I place a hand on my chest to calm my racing heart. “It’s okay. Let’s continue.”
The rest of the session is uneventful.
When Liam finally leaves, I’m grateful. Tension lifts from my shoulders for the first time in an hour.