Chapter 2: Don't feel quite right

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"He was more focused on asking me questions and trying to control the session himself, rather than letting the therapist have the authority at the moment." She shrugged.

"I see. So nothing about his crime circle?"

"No. Why does it concern you? To be fair, you are no longer apart of this project anymore Dr. Kaloo. This is classified information that I shouldn't be sharing with you in all honesty." Lillianna almost snapped. Something about this conversation had her feeling suspicious.

"I'm still interested in the case Ms. Price." He responded.

"Well, there's not much I can tell you. I apologize."

"Then what was discussed during the session?"

"I'm not at liberty to specify."

"But he spoke-"

"How do you even know he spoke?" She cut him off.

"Oh uh-"

"The only other person who knows is Hardy. And if Hardy told you then why are you talking to me about it?"

"Well, he directed me to you for details since you ran the session."

Lillianna quickly pulled her files from her bag, flipping through them until she found the bites and reports from Kaloo. On the front page was the therapist profile, the picture of the Doctor making her freeze. The picture of Dr. Kaloo showed a man who looked to be in his late sixties, much like Hardy. However, the man on the phone sounded like he was her age.

"Excuse me for asking Mr. Kaloo, but how long were you the therapist for Vendetta?" She asked, a fear-filled idea forming in her mind.

"What does this have to do-"

"Just how long?"

"About four months or so. I started in January."

Her eyes narrowed on the profile. He started in January and ended the second week of February, but the next therapist was not hired until April.

"You were his therapist for a total of six weeks. Not four months." She mumbled.

"Beg pardon Ms. Price?"

"No doctor would get that wrong." She hinted.

"Are you insinuating that I'm not Dr. Kaloo? That's absurd!"

"You wouldn't say that if you were Kaloo."

There was silence on the other end. And that was all Lillianna needed to go into a full panic mode.

She ended the call, removed the SIM card from her phone, threw it out the closest window, turned her phone off and whipped it at a wall on the other side of the room. She closed all the windows and curtains, locked the door, turned off the lights and hid under the covers in her room.

If that wasn't Kaloo, then it was someone who was working for Vendetta, and Lillianna wasn't taking any chances.

Her shaking form curled into a ball as she held back tears. What had she gotten herself into?

Hardy Wallon focused on the road in front of him as he drove down the quiet Newfoundland streets. He pulled up to the house of his colleague and checked his phone once again. It had been two days since the first session, and the next one of the week was in less than twenty-four hours. He had called her a hundred times since they returned and was met with immediate voicemail each time.

He had grown worried. What if she was ill, injured, or dead? What if she had been kidnapped or murdered? What if she had cracked under the pressure of the meeting and fled? Anything was possible.

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