voice. A thread I don’t understand.
Whatever. Dread replaces my eagerness, my blood morphing into fuel as I approach the door. All I need is a match, and I’ll catch fire and burn. The lock disengages, the metal block opening, allowing me to step into the hallway.
No one is waiting for me. Knowing I’m being watched on a panel of monitors, I make my way to the left, snake around a corner, bypass the empty commons and enter the overcrowded cafeteria, where the scent of slop makes my mouth water. Really, the protein bar was only an appetizer.
When I spot Sloan, I nod my thanks, but she quickly looks away.
I search for Killian, finding him easily when he stands. Our gazes merge. He’s bigger than I remember. Like, really big. Loaded with muscle big. The kind of muscle found in a gym only after years of training.
My heart skitters into a faster rhythm, and tingles rush through me. I shiver. For a moment, I want to run to him. I’m falling down a pit of despair..nfusion...darkness, and because of the trust exercise, I know he’ll catch me.
I resist the urge.
His cunning gaze assesses the situation as if he’s already considered three ways to destroy everyone present.
His closet protector is coming out to play.
I mouth, Thank you.
He frowns and gives a clipped nod.
“Chop, chop,” Nurse Ratched commands from the gate blocking “patients” from the offices.
As soon as I reach her, she pivots on her heel and presses her index finger into the ID box. After a quick scan, she swipes her card across the side and punches in a code. The gate buzzes open, and she stalks through.
My surroundings change in an instant, as if I’ve stepped through an invisible portal into a fairy tale. From cold and impersonal to warm and inviting. The walls are vibrant baby blue rather than medicine-cabinet gray. Six portraits hang throughout, three on each side of me. Each bears a different-colored rose, meant to add a touch of beauty to a bona fide hellhole. A large wrought-iron candelabra is twisted into the shape of a dragon. The creature’s mouth is open, his teeth monstrous, but he spews blackbirds rather than fire, the metal flock stretching to the door at the end of the hall, where Nurse Ratched stops and smiles coldly at me.
She’s tall and big boned, with frizzy red hair framing a face that is littered with acne scars. Over the past year, I’ve had plenty of time to observe her in her natural habitat and I’ve come to realize she uses her job as a way to obtain what she’s never gotten outside these walls. Power.
Myriad must be her wet dream.
“Go ahead,” she says. “Fight your future the way you always do. Insult Dr. Vans and your parents with that viper tongue.”
“I will, thanks.” Whatever happens, I’ll survive. My parents need me alive.
How sad is that? The best I can say about the people who created me is that they need me to continue breathing.
The girl I used to be would have curled into a ball and sobbed. The girl I am raises her chin and presses on.
“Afterward,” she adds, “we have extra-special plan for you.”
Last time, I was tied down and beaten with brass knuckles. Extra-special scares me.
I ignore the fear, as always, knowing it will only help her sense of empowerment.
“So sweet of you.” Like Sloan, I trace fingertips down my cheeks. “Tears of joy.”
She pats my cheek with a little too much force. “Enjoy the meeting, Miss Lockwood. I have feeling you won’t enjoy anything for long time to come.” With that, she knocks on the door and strides away.
I want to vomit.
The door to Vans’s office slides open, and cold fingers of dread crawl down my spine.
I can do this. Whatever “this” is. I remind myself of the three most important facts of life.
(1) Firstlife, good or bad, is fleeting, even if we live a hundred years. Numbers never lie. A hundred years is nothing compared to thousands of years in the Everlife. So a few hours...days...weeks of pain? Means nothing. Because—
(2) pain is temporary, just as Bow said. It won’t follow me to the other side.
And (3) what happens after death will be forever, making the afterlife far more important than anything that happens here and now.
Still, I break out in a sweat as I step inside the spacious office, where everything is ornate and overdone. An arched ceiling with a crystal teardrop chandelier dangles above a desk the