Chapter 31

Jamison stepped from the metal teleport disk and into the shaggy carpeted bedroom floor. He made eye contact with Nessa’s projection. He jerked his head toward the bedroom entrance.

“I need a drink,” he said. “Are you coming too? No one can see you.”

Murmurs rose from the kitchen, and Nessa stuck her hand out as a barricade, blocking Jamison from proceeding. They stopped inches short of the living area.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Trevon said over the clinking of porcelain against porcelain. “I’m just worried, is all. The alien talk. Not interacting with kids his age.”

The clinking stopped, but Trevon continued: “Maybe inpatient shouldn’t be the first option. It started on his gotcha day. Could be trauma; you know, from the adoption.”

There was a dainty, breezy sigh that Nessa and Jamison could place with Enya.

“He’s smarter than you realize,” she said. “Have you considered that maybe--just maybe, he knows something you don’t?”

Jamison grimaced.