“I take it this is good news.” He chuckles from the doorway.
“It’s wonderful news.” I shake my head in disbelief.
This is for you, Scarlett.
~
“I’m nervous,” I say.
The last time I saw Chekiss, his eyes were sunken with dark, ashen rings underneath, shaped like small boats. His lips were chapped and splitting. But since he’s spoken, the simulated drownings have stopped. Pigmentation has returned to his cheeks. The storms have parted from his sad, drooping eyes.
“I’m nervous too.” He sympathizes with me but seems nervous in a different way.“I miss talking to you.”
I smile at him. I couldn’t agree more. It’s sad that I’d rather talk to some of my patients than any sane person in this world.“I miss you too, Chekiss.”
He stares at me for two seconds, pulling back his lips like he’s trying not to say something he shouldn’t. “I don’t think you should go in that room, Miss Sky.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t think you’ll ever be the same again if you go in there.”
That thought seeps into my gut with a sting. “What makes you think that, Chek?”
He rubs his dry hands together, making a crisp, papery sound.“I need to know if I tell you what I know, you’ll stay cautious, not curious.” He bargains his knowledge wisely.
I straighten in my chair a little. I need to know everything I can before I walk into that room blindsided. “I promise—I’ll be careful.”
“This patient is the only patient to everadmitthemselves. And… the council is petrified of them.” Uneasiness drops into the pit of my stomach like uncooked meat.
“How do you know they’re terrified of Patient Thirteen?”
“There are six council members, and in the beginning, they all visited Patient Thirteen at least once at some point.” Chekiss pops his knuckles and starts to frown.“It only took once for most of them to never pay a visit again, and take every security precaution there is to make sure Patient Thirteen can never get out.”
“Why would anyone admit themselves to a place like that?”
“Peculiar, isn’t it?”
~
I had a plan goinginto this. I’d meet with Chekiss. I knew he could give me small pieces of information to prepare me for Patient Thirteen. But there is one other person that would ideally have more information than anyone.Sern.
Patient thirteen had a dedicated conformist. Sern left that room with her neck fractured and her mind in bits. She now resides in a separate wing of the asylum.
I stand in the doorway, studying her appearance before she notices my presence. Her dark skin has a gray undertone, even beneath the yellow glowing sconces. She scratches at the frizzed bun on her head while absently staring at the stone wall across from her bed.
“Who do you work for?” she asks, still stuck in her glazed trance.
Even though she did not shout, I can tell that she is a loud woman based on her husky voice and wide eyes. The kind that tells stories too loud in a group setting. A trumpet of a voice. And despite her messy, matted brown hair and her crusted lips—she used to be an upstanding citizen. A pinnacle of the lady-doll regimen.
“I work here,” I answer.
A muscle in her brow flinches. “And you weren’t followed?”
I shake my head.Followed?
“Good.” It’s here with the wilting of her lids, the lack of energy to even look back at me, that I realize I’m not seeing a form of lunacy. I see she’s locked away in a coffin of depression.
“Sern, I need to ask you a very important question.” I walk toward her bed, cautious with light footsteps.
