Compulsive (Liar #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

sporty looking thing in which I pictured him driving his tall, skinny
date to the opera. A long leg finally extended out of the door, and he emerged,
glancing aimlessly back in my direction. He hadn’t noticed me, but chills broke
out on my arms.
    I got out and followed his path, picking up my pace so
I wouldn’t be too far behind. Once inside, he seemed to have a predetermined
destination as he bypassed the nurses’ station. I noticed he gave them a quick
wave and a smile, the two women responding in a way that showed he’d been there
before. A certain giddiness flashed in the smile of the younger woman who kept
her eyes on his departure a bit too long.
    I quickly turned my sight from them in case they were
to ask me if I required assistance. Dr. Harrison turned down a corridor to the
left; I slowed to protect my position. My heart rate increased at the thought
of him turning and seeing me. A ridiculous fear, given that my intention had
been for him to eventually see me.
    When the hallway came to end with two paths heading in
different directions, he took a right. I stopped, leaning against the wall. The
sign on the wall where he’d turned also had an arrow going left with the words
“Maternity Ward” written above. A place that signified life, hope, and happiness
for so many people every day, ironically meant something entirely opposite to
me. For a moment, I saw myself, seven years old, sitting next to Grandma
crying, her arm wrapped around me, pressing me into her side. No sounds had
escaped her, but her body vibrated, convulsing beside mine. She’d tried to hide
her pain from me, because that’s what you do when you love someone. You don’t
let them see you sad or hurt. You push it down or lock it away and never let it
out no matter how hard it pounds on the door.
    “Can I help you with something?” a male orderly said,
walking slowly by.
    “No, thank you.”
    He smiled, continuing on in the direction I needed to
go. He made the same right Dr. Harrison had, so I waited a bit before heading
that way. My uncertain steps took me around the corner, but I slowed, even
further regretting the whole plan. He hadn’t seen me. Who knew if he’d even
recognize me if he did? Turning back was still an option.
    A young man in torn jeans and white T-shirt pulled an
IV pole, approaching me with a hard stare. It hit me when he was steps away
that I had been gazing in his direction contemplating my next move.
    “You lost, Dorothy?” he said when my eyes found his.
    I blinked and drew in a breath surprised by not only
him but his condition. His eyes were sweet, but tired and sallow. “Oh, no…I’m
fine.” My voice came out louder than I’d planned and echoed around us. Up ahead,
Dr. Harrison approached a door. His head turned to me, and then after glancing
back toward the door, he did a double take. Our eyes met, spiking gooseflesh on
the back of my neck. Busted . Recognition flashed across his face for a few
beats before someone got his attention, directing him into the room.
    The young man nodded, shuffling on his way. I stood,
immobile, in the middle of a waiting area that appeared to be connected to a
treatment wing. An older woman in a floral print dress walked arm in arm with a
nurse over to a row of specialized recliner chairs. Suddenly, my presence felt
invasive…wrong. Whatever brought Dr. Harrison there was none of my business. I
turned, heading back the way I came, heat flushing my skin. My feet stalled
when I reached the maternity ward, then somehow, kept going straight instead of
making the turn to reach the exit.
    A woman up ahead riding in a wheelchair rested her
hands with care on her extended belly while a small child skipped merrily
beside her. The girl wore a denim skirt with white leggings underneath. Her
long brown hair was twisted into a braid, and when it flew to the side as she whipped
her head back to me, my heart sank. I gaped at the vision of my younger self,
smiling, lit with excitement