She didn't actually remember, he thought. Her former producer at E!, along with everybody else (including her harridan of a mother, Katherine), had been told she was at a private health spa in New Mexico. It had to be kept that way.
No one must know she was here. All the phones had been removed before the ambulance brought her. Starting at six in the morning, there would be a nurse and a nurse/cook downstairs on a twenty‑four‑hour basis. Under no conditions could she be allowed to leave, not the way her mind was now.
"Kristy, it wasn't supposed to turn out like this. I'm so sorry. But Karl is doing all he can. We're ... He has a new idea that he's about to explore. He's going to..." His voice trailed off as he stared at her unblinking eyes. "You don't remember what happened, do you?"
But how she looked. My God. The youth. How could a true miracle have such a tragic downside?
That was when the cell phone on the stand beside him chirped. It was the only phone in the place, and tomorrow it would be gone. No way could she be allowed to have a phone.
The caller ID advised that it was Grant Hampton.
"Kristy, I've got a feeling this could take a while." He was reaching for his silk robe. "I'll be downstairs on the first floor if you need anything, okay?"
She just stared at him mutely. He shook his head sadly. There wasn't much time left to mend her. How in God's name had it come to this?
As he moved down the spiraling grand staircase, he clicked on the phone.
"Yeah."