Hope is all we have, and we only have scraps of that.
Theo doesn’t move. “Then you don’t sell this house. This is… it’s our future, Jake. All of us, here, together. There’s another option.”
“What?” I glance up at him, but he doesn’t look at me, his eyes running over the page again.
“We can make it work,” he says quietly. “Between us all. Oscar and I will need to get jobs. But we do have money to play with.”
Hismoney, I realize. “That’s your college fund.”
“I’m not going,” he says tightly. “And I’d rather spend every cent of that money on her than on anything else, Jake. If we’re careful with it, cut back in other places, we can make it stretch.”
I’ve watched Theo work toward his dream for ten years. “You’re sure? We have other options. That was all you ever wanted. I mean… not now. But later.”
But he shakes his head. “There’s only one thing I want, and this is what she needs. This buys us time. Maybe even a few years, if we’re cautious.”
My fingers grip the table. “It won’t take that long. We’re going to bring her back.”
It won’t take that long.
It can’t.
Day 30 - Theo
“Youseethisset-up?”Max gestures to the four new chairs. “I think they like us. One for each of us and everything.”
Glancing around, I press my lips together before responding. “Better than the floor, I guess.”
He stretches, a grimace pulling at his lips. He looks rumpled from a night spent on the concrete, his sleeping bag folded up at his feet. “True.”
Jake sighs from between us. “I fucking hate this.”
We both turn to look. Center staff move slowly into Kenny’s room, spreading out around her. The outfits they wear look more like hazard suits, and Max’s quiet snort tells me he’s thinking the same thing. But we all fall silent, leaning forward to watch as one steps up to where Kenny sleeps, curled up in her usual corner.
It happens quickly. The flash of the syringe. She jerks awake, her eyes flickering and the familiar snarling sound echoing out to us as she presses herself back into the wall.
Her eyes are already glazing. She shakes her head once, again, as if trying to shake off the sedative, and my heart fucking aches at the small whine that ripples free into the air.
“They’re scaring her,” Jake snaps. “Surely there’s another way they can fucking do this—,”
One of the suited figures steps up to the window. They nod, before it turns to four faces staring back at me.
I’m on my feet. “What the fuck? Why have they blocked us out?”
“Privacy.” Oscar’s jaw is tight.
My frown deepens as I step up to the glass, but only my own reflection greets me now. I put my hands on it anyway, as if testing. “Jake’s right. There has to be a better way than this.”
“She won’t let them near her otherwise.” Oscar’s hand runs over his face. It sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself. “They’ll be quick. The sedative doesn’t last long.”
It feels like hours spent prowling up and down the hall beneath the flickering strip of white lighting. My agitation grows with every minute that she’s out of sight, prickling across the back of my neck and down my spine, tension wrapping around my lungs until I’m struggling to breathe.
They could be hurting her.
And we wouldn’t know. Turning, my hands slam against the glass. “Turn the fucking glass back on!”
“Theo.” Oscar tugs me away. “Kenny gave her permission for this. For all of it. But she didn’t give her permission for us to watch.”
“We’re her goddamnedmates,” I snap, throwing up my hands. “We’re the best ones to care for her, Oz. It shouldn’t even be a question. You think the fucking hazard crew in there are gonna bring her back?”
