He reached behind Cambry, wriggled his hand into the cooling goo that hadn't exited through the window, and at last found the doorhandle. He has planned to eat in his office, but a new plan occurs to him. Who could do that better than a headshrinker? 'What did I make of what?' Pete rolled his eyes. Henry wondered if Jonesy had found it.
Not tempted enough, however. Jonesy's in the office, no phone and no facts, hard to talk to because Mr Gray is mean and Mr Gray is scared. Owen found his eyes drifting back to the paper bag, his mind going again to that string-thing. Unless you counted the week or so immediately after his accident, time he had spent wandering in a fog of drugs and pain, he had never been lost.
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