Twinepathy (Part 25): Stupid Me

Hullo, everyone! I’ve been wanting to post an extra part for a while now, but it always seems to slip my mind. Not today!!! Feel free to slap Albany in the comments below. You’re welcome. New? Check out Part One.

“Albany!” Denver scolds me, grabbing my arm. “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes to Ms. Fabel. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into her. We should go.”

I pull away from him. “No. Ms. Fabel, we really need to talk to you. About our friend,” I add hastily. I pause, making myself get emotional. “She’s about ten years old, and we’re trying to find her family.”

Ms. Fabel pauses, confused. I’m not sure what kind of friend she thought we were talking about, but she certainly didn’t think it was a little girl. But still she stands guardedly in the doorway. “What’s her name?” she asks.

“Maddie,” Denver says, relaxing a little now.

I jump in. “Actually, we don’t know her name. We’ve just been calling her Maddie. She has amnesia.”

Her eyes narrow again at the mention of amnesia. I forgot that Jen’s probably talked to her. Amnesia would be a touchy subject after that, a warning signal. “And what does that have to do with me?”

I weave an elaborate story about looking for people in nearby towns, and how she seemed like a likely person. “I have a list of other possible people,” I lie. “But you seemed like the most likely, and I couldn’t wait to ask you about her. I thought you might know her, or have lost her, maybe.”

Ms. Fabel shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t.” But I can tell she’s just trying to get rid of us. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything, though.” She reaches for the door again.

“Wait.” I turn to Denver. “Do you have a picture on your phone that you could show her?”

He reaches for his pocket. “Oh, my phone’s in the car. Let me go get it.” He turns and hurries over to the car. I know for a fact he hasn’t taken a picture of Maddie, but this is my chance. He probably didn’t realize that. He’s so scatterbrained sometimes, just like Ezra. I immediately push her out of my brain.

I offer my hand to Ms. Fabel. “You are Genesis Fabel, correct? I’d feel really bad if you weren’t.”

She nods, setting the toddler down and reaching for my hand. “I am.”

The instant our hands connect, I dive into her brain. I’ve learned from Jen that some telepaths can guard their brains – at least, I assume that’s what Jen does – but getting into Ms. Fabel’s brain is as easy as getting into Denver’s head. The first thought that surfaces (I always refer to that as the “prominent thought,” because it’s what the person’s thinking the most about at that moment) is “I need to tell Keller.”

Ms. Fabel lets go of my hand too soon, so I’m left blinking and looking at her. “Who’s Keller?” I ask.

Stupid me.