Dr. Holcrum’s expression was unreadable. His voice, quiet enough to make me lean in, carried like a promise.
“Keep searching for what you’re really looking for. I think you’ll be surprised by what you find.”
His gaze held mine for one unbearable second longer. Then he turned away, as if I were already gone.
Chapter 35
“Anam keeps the names of all souls from their first breath to their last.
They belong to Him, and He always comes to collect.”
- The Old Book
The Facility - Week 4
Oliver’s name spread like a sickness across the dining hall. By the time it reached me, I already felt ill.
“Who died?”
“Oliver.”
“That boy from Oak Hollow?”
“Yeah, they found his body this morning.”
“What happened?”
“Suicide. That’s what I overheard a Veiler say.”
“Or that’s what they want you to think.”
“Maybe, I just know they found him this morning.”
“I heard the truth sessions were hard on him.”
“He was a sweet kid. Wrong person from Oak Hollow to go if you ask me.”
I felt the eyes shift onto me, but I refused to meet them. Gripping the sides of my tray hard, my knuckles whitened briefly before I released the pressure. There were too many spectators, and I refused to give them a show. I needed to leave. Now.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor through the low hum of whispers. Every eye in the dining hall felt like it was burning holes in my skin. They wanted to see me falter, see me break. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
I stormed out, the tray still clutched in my hands, until I found the nearest bin and slammed it inside. The clang echoed in the corridor.
The air felt too thin. Too bright. Too loud. I could barely breathe it; it was choking me.
I didn’t hear Rowan’s footsteps until he spoke.
“Mavis—”he said as if approaching a wounded animal.
“Don’t,” I snapped, whirling on him like a struck match. “Don’t follow me. Don’t say my name like you understand. Just—”My voice cracked, but I didn’t let it stop me. “Give me space!”
I stormed off, but Rowan, of course, followed suit and blocked my path.
“You need the exact opposite.”
“Gods,” I cursed. “I hate it when people tell me what I need.” I tried to push past him, but he moved with me, unshaken.
“You’re boiling over,” he said evenly. “Nothing gets better by running off to sit in silence and stew.”
