Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)

“Your tone. Most people I interviewed for this program practically begged to be part of it. You seem as if it’s an inconvenience.”


“Wanting it and believing it are two different things. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it, if that’s my role in making this work. But don’t expect me not to take this with a grain of salt. My entire life I’ve met a lot of doctors, scientists, and con artists who promised to make me see. My mother has been on a mission.”

“How does that make you feel?”

Kendra bit her lower lip.

Waldridge leaned forward, and asked quietly, “Like you’re not good enough for her the way you are?”

Kendra recoiled. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve seen it a lot in the past few months.”

“Well, that’s not the case here. My mother’s just trying to help. She’s the one who is going to be hurt the most if she can’t pull this off. She doesn’t care if she ruffles a few feathers as long as she’s doing everything she can for me. Me,” she repeated fiercely. “It’s all for me. She wants the best for me. Nothing for herself.”

“Did your father feel the same way?”

“No. I never knew him. He left before I was two. He wasn’t prepared to care for a special-needs child.”

“That’s also more common than you might think.”

“It doesn’t matter. My mother and I have always gotten along fine without him.”

“I believe that.” Waldridge paused. “I’m not promising anything to anyone. Anyone who does is either a con artist or a fool. I’m neither. But I do think I offer the best hope you’ve had so far.” He paused. “If I were standing, I suppose this would be one of those moments where I lean back on my heels for emphasis.”

She found herself smiling. She hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor. Most of the specialists who had examined her before had tended to have a God complex.

He turned more pages of the file. “You’re actually just the type of test subject we were looking for. Your corneas degenerated due to a disease you contracted in the womb. We’re experimenting with a technique to help corneas regenerate.”

“How?”

“It’s fairly simple. We combine stem cells with cells that we harvest from healthy parts of the subject’s own eyes. We implant them in the corneas and we have hopes that the corneas will regenerate themselves based on the genetic blueprint provided by your own cells.”

“Cool.”

He was silent for a long moment. “If you participate in our study, you would have to stay here at least two months. No air travel. The pressurized cabin is a variable we don’t want to contend with right now.”

She went still. “You’re talking like … you might actually let me in your program.”

He closed the file. “That depends on you, Kendra. Depends if you’d be willing to join us here for the next few months.”

She couldn’t breathe. She was suddenly dizzy with hope. She hadn’t expected this abrupt turnaround. “Does my mother know?”

“No. If you’re not interested, we’ll step outside, and I’ll incur her wrath by telling her again that the program is full. It’s entirely up to you. What do you say, Kendra Michaels? Would you like to join us?”

Kendra smiled shakily even as she felt her throat tighten, surprised into a sudden flood of emotion. “Yeah.” Her voice was unsteady. “Sure.”

“Good. Then I’ll go and discuss details of the procedure with your mother. It was nice to meet you, Kendra.” He stood up and leaned toward her. He said softly, “And here’s to not taking no for an answer.”

*

“EARTH TO KENDRA?” Olivia said quizzically. “Hello?”

Kendra snapped out of her daze. She and Olivia Moore were on their morning jog on the embarcadero in Marina Park, overlooking San Diego Bay. They had stopped to cool off when Kendra had checked out for a few moments.

“Sorry about that.” She grimaced. “I was just thinking about Dr. Waldridge again.”

“You haven’t thought of anything else since you came back to the condo last night,” Olivia said dryly. “And I might as well have been exercising with a sleepwalker this morning.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that the man I saw last night was so different than the man I remember.”

“Different how?”

“He was … unsettled. Evasive. I don’t know … The Waldridge I’ve always known has always been supremely confident and at the top of his game. Something was definitely wrong.”

“You said he was out here for some fund-raising. Maybe it hasn’t been going well.”

“No, it was more than that. I think he wanted to tell me something, but for some reason he changed his mind. He kept saying it was for my own good.”