“What for? Even if I do figure out how to do this and become an empath, how is that going to help anyone?”
“Mankind’s greatest failing is not understanding one another—a lack of communication between individuals and cultures. Someone like you, who can bridge the gap, so to speak”—Janine grins at her own joke—“who can make one person truly understand how another feels and be able to probe the depths of a person’s psyche to find a hidden meaning? That would be invaluable.” She pauses. “Not to mention being able to tell when a person is lying. The Sekhem are already asking how your training is coming along. Trust me, they’re interested.”
Even though she’s said variations of all this before, it still sounds so unreal. Me, being a valuable part of such an important organization. Crazy. “Then I guess we’d better start practicing.”
Janine stops on the edge of the sidewalk and puts her hands about two inches in front of mine. “At some point, you might be able to read people without even touching them, by sensing the magnetic field that surrounds them. For now, we’re going to concentrate on using physical contact. I just think it’s easier that way.”
“Except for the usual Akhet vibrations, I don’t feel anything.”
She shrugs. “It’s a theory I’m working on. This level of empathy is totally new to all of us, but I think with your innate abilities, you can become so sensitive that physical contact won’t be necessary.” She turns and starts walking again. “Let’s go this way around the tower,” she says, pointing to the left. “It’s less crowded on this side, and we can decide if we want to go all the way across or turn back.”
“I already vote for turning back.” There are a few people at the railing, mostly taking pictures or craning their necks to see the top of the tallest tower. But there’s one older guy in a blue jacket who stands out as if he has a spotlight on him. Everyone else fades into the shadows as I study him. He’s not doing anything at all, just standing motionless at the railing, but even from here I can feel that something’s not right.
“What is it?” Janine asks.
“That guy right there. Don’t you see him?”
“Which guy?”
“The one in the blue. Something’s going on with him,” I say. His eyes aren’t looking down, but are fixed in the distance. Both hands are gripping the railing so hard his knuckles are white, and one foot is poised on the bottom rung. “I think he’s going to jump,” I whisper.
“Then you need to go make contact with him,” she says quietly, her eyes focused on his back.
I can feel panic rising in my chest. “How? Do I just go ask him if he’s about to kill himself?”
Janine nudges me forward. “You’ll think of something.” She glances at me. “Anything’s better than the alternative.”
I take a few steps closer, with no idea how I’m going to do this. In order to read him, I need to touch him, to make contact with him in a way that won’t startle him. I’m within a couple of feet when I pretend to trip, going down on one knee, grabbing at the man’s arm as I fall.
I’m hyperalert as my hand makes contact, and in a flash I feel overwhelming despair and sadness wash over me. It’s as if death is already too close. “I’m so sorry!” I say, putting both hands on the sidewalk to steady myself both from the fall and from the strength of his emotions.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking startled. He reaches down to help me up.
“I think so,” I say. I look into his eyes behind thick black glasses, wondering what happened in his life that brought him to this place. “Are you?”
He tilts his head and releases my arm. Instantly, the emotions vanish. “Sure,” he says, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I just saw you standing here. And you looked a little sad.”
He shakes his head and gives me a slight smile. “I was just admiring the view,” he says with a shrug, his voice betraying no emotion at all. “Not every day you get to stand on a bridge and look at such a beautiful city.”
I begin to feel unsure of myself. Either he’s a really good liar or he really wasn’t planning to jump. “Right. Of course. It’s just that I—”
“What’s going on, honey?” A thin woman with a camera around her neck walks up and slips her arm through his. She has on a purple knit hat that doesn’t look out of place up here, even though it’s June. I’m startled to see that he’s not alone. Why would he bring her here if he was going to jump?
“Nothing,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “This young lady tripped, and I was just helping her up.”
I look back at the sidewalk at the imaginary crack that caused my fall. “He was.” I nod to the man. “Thanks. They should really fix that. Someone could get hurt.”
“That’s terrible,” the woman says with a frown, squinting down at the sidewalk. She smiles up at the man. It’s obvious she adores him. “I’m glad he could help.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay now, miss?” the man asks.
I have no idea what just happened here. He seems so stable now. Did I read him wrong? “I’m sure,” I say, giving him a wide smile that I don’t feel. “I’ll be fine.”
“Great,” he says. He pounds his fist twice on the railing and then turns to walk back toward the San Francisco side, arm in arm with the woman.
Janine squeezes my shoulder as they walk away. “Great job,” she whispers. “How did it feel?”
“It wasn’t great,” I say, frustration clouding any satisfaction I might have. “I don’t think I read him right at all. At first all I could feel was an overwhelming sadness, but then he just acted so normal.”
“Maybe you were right,” Janine said. “And maybe by talking to him at the crucial moment, it passed. Sometimes people don’t want their problems solved. They just want to be seen.”
I glance back at the couple. “Or maybe he’s just a tourist admiring the view.”
“You have a nice day,” the woman shouts over her shoulder, giving a little wave. As the sleeve of her jacket falls back, I see a clear plastic bracelet around her too-thin wrist. I look at the hat covering her head and see that there’s no hair peeking out from the bottom of it. It’s then that I understand—she’s the one who’s dying, not him.
“You too,” I shout back. Sometimes it sucks to be right.
Three
“What time is Griffon picking Owen up at the airport?” Rayne asks as we dodge the crowds on Haight Street.
“About an hour ago,” I say, digging around in my bag for my bus pass. We’ve spent the day hanging around my house, but now I have to go teach cello at the studio. I complain about having a job, but I’m secretly glad to have somewhere to go during the week. A whole summer with nothing to do would make me antsy. “Kat wanted to go with him, but I talked her out of it. Griffon is his best friend, and the ride from the airport is probably the only time she won’t be hanging off Owen this whole trip.”
Rayne wrinkles her nose. “Is it going to be weird hanging out with your sister so much?”
I stare at her. “Um, yeah. Which is why you have to promise not to leave us alone with them. Kat is already talking about all the parties we’re going to while he’s here; you and Peter need to come along to break up the ick factor.”
She laughs. “We’ll try.”
The sidewalk is thick with tourists, but the strange hand on my arm is still startling, and my blood runs cold when I turn to see who grabbed me. For a second I can barely breathe. I knew this moment was going to come sooner or later; she’s been sanctioned by the Sekhem for what she did to us, but there was not much more they could do. I’ve rehearsed this over and over in my head, all of the things I want to say to her, how I need to stand up to her once and for all, but I’m caught so off guard that I take two steps backward.