I looked up at the TV, filling my mind with pictures of a powerful, misunderstood woman casting off her bindings, and forced myself to breathe. I wouldn’t panic this time. It helped that my inner Ezra stayed silent. Calmly, I removed my hand from my head and really looked around my hospital room.
Beige, so much beige. There wasn’t a single flower or card. My dad would have left something. If nothing else, my therapistmade a fortune off me; she would have sent me flowers. Or maybe I was thinking too highly of myself.
I closed my eyes, feeling Rowan’s arms and leaning into not just his physical strength but his support. He would tell me I was worth flowers. I’d just had experimental brain surgery—Doctor Oz’s assistant would have at least left me some. Bah, the flowers were not really the point. It was what they represented.
I’d spent too long questioning what was real to trust soft landings. When you’re dreaming, you wake up before you hit the ground.
The footsteps shuffled against the floor, and I opened my eyes to study Alex. His walk was nothing like Xan’s confident stroll, though his features were still surprisingly close.
I took a deep breath.
‘Yes, good girl. You’re in control,’Ezra said in my head.
My heart fluttered. Ezra. I didn’t know what was going on, but this wasn’t my old life.
Every tiny detail of the dystopian future my delusional mind had come up with blew me away. Before I even set foot in the Architect’s castle, colors and smells filled the world. Bugs had eaten me alive as I wandered through the wilderness. On that same horrible trek, I’d eaten something that had liquefied my insides. Shitting my way across Scotland was not my favorite memory, but it was vivid.
I hadn’t left this bed to use the facilities once. And it wasn’t because I had a catheter in. The only thing hooked up to me was the heart rate monitor.
The low hum of voices could be from anything. No sirens or alarms went off from other patients. I didn’t hear carts getting wheeled by, nor had I seen or heard a nurse. My blood chilled, and my heart rate monitor skipped a beat. Was I still trapped with Cayden’s father? Had Cayden failed? I swallowed hard, and my heart pinched. I’d given my best friend everything in me andpushed it through the collar. I swear I saw the ancient Prophet disintegrate, but my last memory was of cold. I could barely see the blackness closing in on me.
I jerked. Was I dead?
Was this some waiting room in purgatory?
Wait.
When Horax first collared me, I’d tried to destroy the ring around my neck with my Majekah. It hadn’t worked, but something had happened. My vision had turned the same inky blue as Alex’s eyes, and someone had said something, right?
So much had happened between then and now that I couldn't quite remember.
I reached up to feel my neck, but Alex cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”
Folding my hands together on my lap instead, I gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“’Fine’ has many meanings.” Alex opened a notebook and clicked his pen. He studied me. “I am also fine, thank you for asking.”
My heart raced. At our first meeting, I assumed he worked for the hospital, but now I wasn’t sure if I was really in one. So, who was he, and where was I?
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Where am I?”
Alex raised an eyebrow and wrote in his notebook. “You’re in St. Mary’s in Baltimore, in the inpatient recovery ward. Your surgery was successful, or at least that’s what I’m here to determine.”
I bobbed my head. Same hospital. No new details. “And you work for the hospital. That’s why you’re here instead of Rachel?”
“Assuming Rachel is your usual therapist.” Alex nodded. “Then yes.”
‘I’m in control.’ Ezra had said those exact words. Was he here? Could he see me?
I looked around the room again, but I didn’t see any glass that could be two-way or feel the hum of magic. I rested my hand against my stomach and felt only skin. My belly button ring was missing. I panicked and called on my Majekah, but the blanket stayed a blanket.
I was back in the hospital. My magic was gone. I started rocking back and forth.
‘Stay strong, Quinn,’Ezra said in my mind. ‘Breathe.’
I did. One slow pull in and back out.
“You, unfortunately, passed out and had to be woken back up to complete the surgery,” Alex continued. I watched his mouth form the same question as last time. “...Why is that, Quinn?”
