The silence between us breaks with a pen scratching against paper, proving how thin the wall behind me is. This exchange is being notated.
My throat closes tighter as I force words out. “It—” I take in a short breath, needing it to carry me through. “—has beendetermined that—” My insides scream and cry, my heart thumps so hard I’m dizzy. “—you are no longer considered ‘fit’ for labor due to…a medical condition, observed by a guard.” His medical condition—his arch nemesis. The only enemy he’s ever had. A part of himself that cannot be severed or cured. “This…condition can be recorded in one of two ways.” A choke catches in my throat and I gasp for air, clutching my side as fiery bile rises in my stomach. “Your word.” I close my eyes, unable to look at him. “—or a full head-to-toe investigation for a declared illness.” The volume of my voice weakens to a near inaudible level. “Your word will allow the medical staff to proceed with only simple confirmative tests.”
Why am I here?I keep asking myself.
I see the very same question in his eyes, about me, him.
“My condition…” he says, “I don’t have one.” His words are smooth, confident, and believable out loud. Except, someone reported him to this infirmary barrack with reason, which means his statement is a blatant lie.
It’s as if he didn’t hear me tell him that he will endure a head-to-toe investigation for a declared illness. Maybe I would lie, too. The outcome might be the same—the outcome I made sure he survived to face—over and over again.
I’ve failed him repeatedly.
Again, and again.
Someone is taking pleasure from watching our pain.
The chair behind the wall scratches against the floor. The guard transporting patients to their assigned areas of the block is moving toward the door to collect Stefan from my release.
I can’t do anything to stop the SS from taking him inside or sending him into the experimental unit. But I’ll find a way back there. I’ll make that doctor think he needs me, and I’ll stand between him and Stefan before he destroys what’s left of him.
The clipboard slips from my fingers, cracking against the floor—loud enough to echo inside my head and rattle my bones.
The shriek from inside my head returns, deafening all other thoughts.
He doesn’t know what lies beyond those doors. He’ll never be the same again and I’m watching it happen.
I step toward him. Cold hands clamp around my arms. I glance down—blood-covered fingers.
Mama’s fingers.
I couldn’t save her.
A clock ticks between my ears.Tick. Tick. Tick.
I couldn’t save Papa.
The door opens.
Swoosh.
Stefan’s feet shuffle.
Shush. Shush.
Shush. Shush.
Shush. Shush.
And the door closes.
He’s gone. To where I shouldn’t be able to save him.
But I’ll find a way. I’ll watch them. Learn their flaws, and take whatever chance I can to save Stefan, and as many others as I can.
Evil isn’t a sign of intelligence; it’s an exploitable weakness.
TWENTY
