Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

blushing through my mind, clutching at the sheet like a
lifeline. “I’m so sorry—”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the apology.” Blondie is studying
his notes religiously, suddenly fascinated by his own
handwriting. “But it’s all right. We’ve been expecting some
destructive tendencies. You’ve been having one hell of a
week.”
“Are you a psychologist?”
“Sort of.” He brushes the hair away from his forehead.
“Sort of?”
He laughs. Pauses. Rolls the pen between his fingers. “Yes.
For all intents and purposes, I am a psychologist.
Sometimes.”
“What is that supposed to mean . . . ?”
He parts his lips. Presses them shut. Seems to consider
answering me but examines me instead. He stares for so
long I feel my face go hot. He starts scribbling furiously.
“What am I doing here?” I ask him.
“Recovering.”
“How long have I been here?”
“You’ve been asleep for almost fourteen hours. We gave
you a pretty powerful sedative.” Looks at his watch. “You
seem to be doing well.” Hesitates. “You look very well,
actually. Stunning, really.”
I have a handful of scrambled words in my mouth. A blush
flushing up my face. “Where’s Adam?”
He takes a deep breath. Underlines something on his
papers. His lips twitch into a smile.
“Where is he?”
“Recovering.” He finally looks up.
“He’s okay?”
Nods. “He’s okay.”
I stare at him. “What does that mean?”
2 knocks at the door.
The bespectacled stranger doesn’t move. He rereads his
notes. “Come in,” he calls.