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again, but the gesture was different this time. Smoother, almost sinuous. It put Drew in mind of the way a reptile might shrug.
    “It gave my hands something to do while I imagined burying an ax in Ms. Shewalter’s head.”
    Despite himself, Drew felt a chill at Rick’s words. No, he realized. The sensation of cold was more than a simple emotional reaction. The temperature in the office had dropped by several degrees in the last few minutes. He could feel the cold on his face, his hands, the back of his neck, and inside his mouth, throat, and lungs as he breathed. He’d known cold like this before, cold that did more than chill the flesh. Cold that penetrated deep into the core of your being, wrapped its icy fingers around your soul, and began to squeeze.
    Drew? Trevor? Why is it so cold?
    “You miss them, don’t you?” Rick said.
    The man’s voice yanked Drew out of the memory. “Who?”
    He continued as if he hadn’t heard Drew’s question. “You miss both of them but especially
her
.”
    He lifted a bandaged hand to his mouth andbegan tearing off his adhesive strips with his teeth, spitting them onto the carpeted floor one by one. He continued speaking as he worked, the words muffled at times but clear enough.
    “You really haven’t had any friends since them, have you? Haven’t allowed yourself to get close to anyone. Oh, you have dozens of acquaintances, and you date now and again, but you’re going through the motions, aren’t you? Pretending to live, when in truth, you’re hiding behind walls so thick and high that nothing can get through. Better that way, right? Safer.”
    Rick finished uncovering the last of his scarred fingertips. He examined his hand for a moment, looking like someone checking out a manicure he’d just received. And then he inserted the tip of his index finger into his mouth.
    The room felt as cold as an Arctic plain now, and Drew saw his breath turn to wisps of vapor as it hit the frigid air.
    This isn’t possible
, he told himself.
I’m experiencing some sort of delusion
. But even as he thought these things, he knew he was lying to himself. Whatever the source of the cold, he did his best to ignore it. He had more important things to worry about right then.
    “Don’t do it. I understand that you’re feeling a compulsion to hurt yourself. It’s OK to feel that way, but it doesn’t mean you have to give in to that compulsion.”
    Rick’s gaze locked onto Drew’s, but he didn’t remove his finger from his mouth as he talked. “You’re going to see them again. Your friends, I mean. Very soon.”
    Rick bit down on his finger, gently at first, and then with increasing pressure. Drew began shivering from the cold. Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t—
    Natural
.
    —helping Rick. He wanted to leap to his feet, rush over to Rick, grab hold of his arm, and yank his hand away from his mouth. But he forced himself to remain seated. He didn’t want to sit and watch while Rick mutilated himself, but he knew from both training and experience that it wasn’t a good idea to make any sudden moves when a patient began exhibiting violent behavior.
    Drew rarely felt threatened when he worked with patients, whatever their pasts, and he’d never felt any threat from Rick during their previous sessions. But he could sense the potential for violence in the air now, like the energy that gathers before a powerful thunderstorm, and for the first time in his career as a psychologist, he was afraid. Afraid for himself and afraid that Rick might hurt himself far worse if he tried to stop him.
    And so he watched as the already raw skin on Rick’s finger split under the pressure of his jaws, and blood began to flow, running over his lips andonto his chin in a thin trickle. Rick’s eyes glimmered with madness, and, still biting down on his index finger, he grinned at Drew.
    “I’m starting to get the feeling that our session is about over, but before you send me back to my room wrapped