"I . . ." Ally was so startled she couldn't think of anything to say immediately. "Kristen, is that you? I just saw your mother. I. . . I got this number from her. She came out to the Dorian Institute looking for you. She's very worried about—"
"You're lying to me. You're trying to trick me and get me back." She was breathing heavily, as though she'd just run a set of stairs. This is a person just barely holding it together, Ally thought. "Anyway, Kristen is not my name. My name is Kirby. They wrote it down for me and ... I'm very confused. I found a bracelet in my suitcase that had 'Starr' on it. Maybe that's my last name. It sounds right, but I can't remember—"
"You don't remember having a show on cable?"
"I . . . I think I knew someone who had a TV show, but I don't think it was me."
"Kirby . . . or whatever your . . . listen carefully. I think you were undergoing an experimental procedure for your skin. At a place in New Jersey called the Dorian Institute. The doctor was Karl Van de Vliet. You were in clinical trials for the National Institutes of Health. Then something happened and you left. Do you remember why you left? Or when?"
"No." She stifled a sob. "I can't remember anything."
Ally took a deep breath, not liking the vibes she was getting. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. I don't want to talk to you or to anybody. I got out of that place and—"
" 'That place'?" Ally asked. She was being passed by a huge bus and she could barely hear. "You mean the institute?"
"You know where I mean. And don't come looking for me down here either, because I'm not going to be here." Jesus, Ally thought, what's with her?