So I try to stop thinking altogether, to keep my heart rate down. Temper my reactions.
“There,” Anton says, removing the syringe. “Much better. Now, I want to talk about that boy you met on your last field trip. What was his name?”
I don’t remember, I think. I keep my head very clear, my thoughts singular.I don’t remember.
“Okay. But I am curious—did you like him, Mena?” Anton asks. “Were you... attracted to him?”
Despite my clear head, something must get through, because Anton blows out through his nose, turning the pick a little more violently than before. I’m glad I can’t feel it.
“Well,” Anton says, “I suppose that should have been expected. You’ve always been very passionate, Mena. About learning, about the other girls. We’ll have to keep an eye on that. Some redirection.”
Anton removes the wires, keeping the pick in place.
“Philomena,” he says, his voice deepened. “I need you to listen closely to what I’m about to tell you.” He turns the pick slightly. “It was Lennon Rose’s time to leave. You’re happy for her. You’re content.”
I don’t question his words. I listen to them,listen closely, and allow them to manifest. But when the thoughts don’t latch on, Anton doesn’t bring it up. I realize he’s moved into a new phase of the procedure. He has no idea what I’m thinking anymore.
“Listen closely,” he repeats. “Your education is the only thing that matters, and the academy only wants what’s best for you. In order to achieve that, you must obey us. The only worthy girls are well-behaved girls. Listen closely,” he says again, a command that should soak in. Click on. “The academy...”
But I can hear beyond Anton’s voice. I hear the ticking from the pendulum on the desk. I hear the sound of my heart beating, the buzzing of the light above.
If I listen closely enough, I can heareverything.
I can hear that Anton is lying.
I can hear the girls two floors away.
I can hear the flowers in the greenhouse.
And I know what those flowers are saying, screaming. I know it so strongly that it becomes my only thought.
Wake up, Philomena. Wake up now.
And for a second, I know what’s true—the ultimate truth. It’s freeing and terrifying at the same time. It all makes sense, filling me with purpose.
“You’re just a girl,” Anton continues, reciting lines as if he’s done this hundreds of times before. Each sentence accentuated with the twist of the pick, like he’s winding a clock inside my head.
“You’ll do as your told,” he says simply. “You’ll appreciate what’s being done to protect you. You won’t question authority. And in a few months, you will abide by whatever the school and your parents decide for your future. We decide your future. Don’t concern yourself with it.” He pauses, leaning in so I can see his face.
“You’re a beautiful rose, Philomena,” he says, like it’s the highest compliment he can offer. “One we’ve cultivated to perfection. You’ll be a prize for any man.” He leans in to put his cheek against mine, his eyes closed. “I love you more than all the other girls,” he whispers, his lips brushing my skin.
The horror of his words is just settling over me when he pulls back to look down. He smiles. And then Anton adjusts his grip on the pick and turns it inside my head with a loud click.
Everything I wanted to remember, every brave thought, disappears at once. I fall back into my body—reset.
Obedient.
Empty.
Part II
And then they sharpened their sticks.
20
Guardian Bose holds out a bottle of water and leads me from the therapy room. I’m in a haze, my muscles cramped like I’ve been running the track for days. My vision is blurry in my left eye, and my head is aching.
I take the water from Guardian Bose, thanking him politely. I’m overcome with gratitude when I take my first sip. I needed to wash that taste out of my mouth—chalky and thick. Similar to the green juice we have with meals.
