burn at the corners of my eyes, and I blink them back, horrified at the thought of crying in front of him. A single tear escapes before I can stop it, and my shock is complete when the doctor reaches out and swipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb.
We both still, and he stares back at me, my own surprise mirrored in his face. My cheeks heat, and my skin tingles where he touched me.
“Apologies, that was inappropriate,” he murmurs, but neither of us move, and I can’t bring myself to accept his apology.
Inappropriate or not, I can’t deny the pleasure blossoming in me at his nearness.
When was the last time someone touched me like that?
I’ve had boyfriends of course, but none of them ever made me feel so seen and so desired with nothing but the touch of their thumb.
It’s unnerving.
And apparently, I’m not the only one who thinks so.
The doctor clears his throat and looks away, his confidence and poise obviously shaken. “We better get back.”
I don’t argue, and when he strides down the hall, I follow, thoughts swirling with the weirdness of this day.
Nurse Schmidt is waiting for us when we return. She looks furious, and when she sees us coming, she trains all her anger on the doctor, for which I’m grateful. “Where have you been?”
“I was showing the patient around to help her get oriented with her new surroundings.”
“Patients are prohibited from venturing beyond these two rooms,” she says, and it’s not hard to imagine a giant stick lodged right up her—
“She was escorted by me the entire time, Nurse Schmidt. It’s not a problem.”
“Don’t think I won’t let Mr. Cutter know about this. I knew it was a mistake hiring you for this role.”
Dr. Livingstone’s eyes flash, and his expression hardens. “Do what you must, Miss Schmidt. No rules were broken. Now, if there’s nothing else, you may escort Miss Celeste back to her room.”
Nurse Schmidt looks ready to say more, but then she glances at me and apparently decides against it. “Come,” she snaps and walks off without waiting to see if I’m following.
I hurry after her without a backward glance, though I can feel the doctor’s gaze burning against my back as I go. As we head down the stairs and into the darkness, all I can think of is the way his skin felt brushing against my own and the strange sort of hunger in his eyes as he watched me go.
My thoughts are cut short as Nurse Slap-happy once again delivers me to my damp, cold cell. How could Dr. Livingstone not think this was akin to a medieval prison?
Nurse Schmidt swings the door shut with a loud clang. When she turns the key in the lock, the scraping sound echoes with a finality that makes my blood run cold.
She leaves without a word, and when her footsteps have faded, only then do I realize they never fed me that lunch Dr. Livingstone mentioned was coming soon. My stomach growls so loud I expect Dean or even Declan to comment on the noise, but they’re silent.
When my eyes finally adjust to the dimness, I squint into their shared cell and see that it is empty.
Voices whisper in my mind, and I shut them out, wondering if I imagined the wolfish twins who warned me of this place earlier.
Maybe they were apparitions, like the girl with the bloody tears I saw upstairs. Maybe they were never really here, and I’m alone in the bowels of this facility, a single captive who will soon go mad from the voices that plague me in my own solitude.
I curl up on my cot, glad for the oversized sweater, but still chilled from anxiety and the weakness of starvation.
Time passes and still no one appears.
Sounds reach me, some as if drifting from spaces above. Screams. Yells. Banging that sounds like items being flung against a wall. And some whispers in my ears. Maybe in my head.
You have to fight.
They will try to break you.
Écoutez les bêtes qui vous narguent.
Listen to the beasts who taunt you.
In the quiet, I am less and less sure of what’s real.
Something moves at the foot of my cot, and I watch as a figure takes shape slowly. It’s a girl. Not the one from earlier.
She’s different.
And all too familiar.
Her hair is wild and wavy like my own.
Her haunted eyes are smaller than mine, but the same color blue. And her mouth, so much like our mother’s, is