What the hell?
What is he…
He slips a piece of paper into the palm of my hand.
I tuck it into the back pocket of my pants with my heart slamming against the cavity of my chest. I desperately want to look at it, but I resist the urge and pretend to act as casually as possible.
“Maddison, it’s your turn,” Mr. Averson says, snapping his fingers at me. “So get your ass over here.”
I flip him the middle finger, and debate whether to put up a fight or not. I really miss my taser, but that was emptied from my pocket along with my phone.
He glares at me and mumbles, “Such a brat. One day, I’m going to have someone break that out of you. In fact, I think Aiden would be the perfect fit for that.” He rotates his wrist and checks the time on his lavish watch. “I have a society meeting I need to attend. Aiden, can you take care of this?”
Aiden nods, then moves aside to let Mr. Averson out of the room before putting himself in the doorway again.
Finn stands up, and his hand is wrapped in a wrap. He’s still coddling it against his chest, and pain leaks from his movements as he moves away from the bed.
I eye the bed, my feet remaining glued to the floor.
Dr. Mapleton is rummaging around in a bag. “Maddison, please date a seat on the bed.” She’s cold yet polite, a bizarre combination.
I glance at Aiden from the corner of my eye, then back at her. “I’m not getting undressed.”
She pulls out a stethoscope. “I never said you had to.”
“Okay, I’m glad we’re on the same page then.” I sit down on the foot of the bed, glancing at Aiden again.
He’s watching me like a hawk as he leans against the doorframe with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Instead of looking away when our gazes meet, he stares, his gaze becomes more piercing, and, ultimately, I’m the one to look away, focusing my attention on Finn, who’s standing near the fridge, watching me with his pouty lips set in a frown.
“Is your hand okay?” I ask him as Dr. Mapleton lifts up the back of my shirt and listens to my lungs.
“He has a broken finger,” Dr. Mapleton answers for him as she moves the stethoscope to the other side of my back.
The metal is cold, and I shiver as goosebumps dot my flesh. “I wasn’t talking to you.” I keep looking at Finn. “Is it?”
“It hurts a little bit.” He stares at his wrapped hand. “I’m worried my finger will be permanently crooked.”
“It will,” Dr. Mapleton again interrupts us.
“Dude, no one’s talking to you, so stay out of our conversation and focus on doing your job,” I say snottily. “Doctor.”
She slants back to look at me. “Maddison, I’m here to help you.”
“I don’t care if I’m in good health.” My tone oozes with bitterness. “I just want the hell out of here.”
She carries my gaze then, in the quietest voice, so quiet, I’m not even positive I heard her correctly, she whispers, “Soon.”
I want to ask her to repeat herself. I want to tell Aiden what the hell is on that paper. But I can’t do that with the cameras around, so I zip my lips shut and remain as compliant as I can as she checks my blood pressure, then takes a vial of my blood.
I hate getting my blood drawn, and even more so, hate how weak I become when it happens. Finn senses my disease and comes over to hold my hand with his good one. I clutch onto it so tightly I’m worried I might break a finger on that hand, but Finn doesn’t react, letting me squeeze the life out of his hand while the doctor draws my blood. Once she’s finished, she closes up the bag.
“Make sure to eat something. It’ll help with any dizziness.” She strides out the door, her high heels clicking against the floor.
Aiden steps out, closes the door, and Finn and I are left in the damn room again, smothered by the same hopelessness we’ve felt for over a week. Except now I have a piece of paper in my pocket that could change that.
I need to find a discreet way to read it.
I need to be careful, though, because one false move could get me caught. And then any hope that piece of paper might bring will go poof.
