.”“Thank you, Dan.”“Praying for you all, Mizz Barton.”The phone clicked. I bowed my head for a quiet moment, then I punched up Cindy.“Hey,...babe!” my redhead chirped. “What’s up?”“Mister Barton...”“Oh no ... We haven’t seen in him the last few weekends...”“Found out why. He’s ... bad way. His wife called us. He asked if you and the Munchkins...”“Visit?”“Yeah.”“Drive. I’ll borrow Tina’s Suburban.”“Gather the Clan,” I said. “Warn ‘em. This might not be pleasant.”“You know the Munchkins,” I said.. Harold didn’t respond right away.“I said ‘Clear’ Mr B?” Dr Bill reiterated.“Yes,” Harold Beckwid said, sullenly.“So, Mr B,” Dr Bill went on, “I’m going to have a nurse here call security, and they are going to usher you off of our premises. You can take your sore shoulder and your shitty attitude and go to another hospital, and if you would care to read our procedures and principles, you would see that we are within our rights to throw your sorry ass out of here.”“Clear?” Dr Bill asked.“Clear!”. * * *...only it wasn?t Enrico Ventimiglia the effeminate young man wasseeing. It was Doctor Vanautu, and the distance between them was thesame as the distance between Jeremy and Enrico. Only they weren?t atan outdoor restaurant in Venice.They were at the Psychiatrist?s Office in Milan that Jeremy?s motherhad compelled her son to go to, on the promise that Irma would neveragain interfere in her son?s personal affairs. She sounded sincereenough on this that Jeremy just wanted to get it over. .. !" What? What?!"Cassie swallowed, trembling badly. "A d-detail from my dreams... something trailing from each of them... I c-can't really explain it better than that, but I-I think it represents their... I don't know what you want to call it: their souls, their spirits, their former selves, but it's like... leaking away from them. Like the longer they stay enslaved to Nyssa like this..." The more permanent it gets," Ned finished for her. "Crap."Cassie swallowed hard. "Ned, we can't fail.
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