The Patient

by Steena Holmes

  Damn it.

  Only Danielle had the original leaflet. There was a slight tear that I couldn’t hide in the photocopy.

  “They found this in the house you were living in. Although, from what I saw when I walked through it, it wasn’t the best living conditions. This, along with the books . . .” Her voice trails off as if that should explain everything.

  “Okay, but that’s only one item, and I could have stolen it from Danielle like I did the books. There’s no other way to pinpoint her. She was never there.”

  The good doctor shakes her head and gives me a smile full of pity. Too much pity, if you ask me.

  “If you were there, she was there.”

  “No, she wasn’t.” I can’t believe I have to spell this out for her. “Sure, we all share a body, but we are all different. I speak differently than Danielle and Ella and even Savannah. We all have different pitches, different ways of speaking. Our mannerisms couldn’t be more different than a roomful of complete strangers. My eyes are wider than hers, I smell different than her, hell, our palms are even different.”

  “And yet your fingerprints are the same, just like the DNA of your hair.”

  Fine. Okay. I blow out a puff of air but don’t bother to respond. I can argue this all I want, but she’s right. The bottom line is if I was there, so was she. So were all of them. Which means we all have to suffer together, even if I give them a respite and live this part of our life for us.

  That much I can do.

  “Can we move from this topic, please?”

  Dr. Brown nods. Her fingers continue their tap dance along her leg. “Can you tell me a little bit more about your family? How you all came to be?”

  “That fascinates you, doesn’t it? How many patients have you worked with that have alters?”

  She smiles, a little more condescending than friendly. “There’s more families like yours than you’d expect.”

  “Huh.”

  Interesting. I’ve only ever met a few, during our early years, following the death of Savannah’s parents.

  “There’s about a dozen or so of us. Everyone but me is resting, and I only allow a few up at a time. Too many gets overwhelming, and since I’m the strongest one, I’m also the matriarch of our family.”

  She takes notes while I talk. She’s probably trying to build a family tree or something. It won’t matter, though. I don’t trust her enough to let her talk to any of the others, and they sure as hell don’t need to experience life in this hellhole.

  “Have you always been the host, Ava? Since you’re the most dominant one?”

  “Can I please get these off? I promise I will not harm you. I’d be stupid to. I know how this works—if I play nice, you’ll help us. All I want is to be sent to the psych ward. I don’t want us to be in prison. I’ll tell you whatever you want if you can promise me that.”

  “I can’t promise you anything, Ava. I’m sorry. I’ll do the best I can to help you and the others, but what happens is up to you, your lawyer, and the judge.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Until I know you better, I’m sorry.”

  I knew it. She has the power to release me from these cuffs. Damn it.

  “Ask me anything. I said I wouldn’t lie.”

  “Then answer my question.”

  I have to think for a minute, recall what she asked. “No. I didn’t come until after Savannah . . . well, let’s just say little Sav had a breakdown and couldn’t follow through with killing her mommy and daddy, so I . . . helped her.”

  The doctor nods her head while her pen furiously writes across the page.

  “No, Savannah wasn’t the host either. I know you’re going to ask. The real host, the real us, she’s a precious little girl we all work hard to protect. Anna Danielle Rycroft. Danielle recognized the name earlier. We all love her and take turns reading her stories. She has the best room out of all of us. It’s all pink with ruffles and lace and teddy bears and a table where we all sit for tea parties.” I let the image of Anna and her room fill me until the smile on my face is as wide as the love in my heart for her.

  “She has no idea how awful life can be. No idea. To protect her after her uncle . . . Well, Annie was the first one to protect our little Anna. Annie sleeps all the time now. She . . .” I’m getting all emotional, and I don’t like it. “Annie deserves all the rest she needs after everything he did to her.” I drink in the anger I feel toward that man, the hate that rages through me every time I think of him, the satisfaction of what I did to make him pay.

  “I’m so sorry.” Dr. Brown looks at me, her eyes full of sorrow and sympathy. Real sympathy.

  Maybe I can trust her. Maybe she does understand.

  “Savannah came after Annie when it got to be too much. Savannah is weak. There’s too much love inside of her mixed in with the darkness. She wants to hate, she wants to kill, but she can’t stomach the idea of doing it. He”—I spit at the idea of saying his name—“he brainwashed her into thinking he was the only one who truly loved her, but even he couldn’t kill for her. I did that. Me.”

  That’s why I’m the host. That’s why I’m the one strong enough to do what needs to be done. That’s why I’m the one who continues to do what needs to be done. No one else can. No one else is strong enough.

  “I killed him, you know. Add that to my list of sins. One night, after we’d been camping close to another family with a little girl, I knew what he was going to do. I was getting too old, you know? I waited until after he’d passed out from drinking, went and warned the parents, who immediately left. Then I cut off his dick and stuffed it in his mouth.” I feel a bubbling well of laughter rise, and I try to squash it, but a little giggle escapes. “That’s how I was caught. My own fault. The father called the cops, who found me washing all the blood off my hands.” I shake my head at the memory, my smile still plastered on my face.

  I will never forget the look on that monster’s face when I held his thing in my hand before forcing his mouth open. I’d already tied his hands behind his back, so there was nothing he could do.

  “As much as I’d love to dive into all of that, would you mind telling me about Ella, Tyler, and Danielle, and any of the others, first?”

  I wrinkle my nose at being forced to move past that memory.

  “Prison life was hard, but I was just as hard, so it didn’t matter. Until I realized that if we ever wanted to get out, we had to change. I couldn’t do that, but Ella . . . she could. She worked in the library, she changed the direction we were headed, got us out of fights, and shaved time off our sentence. She practically lived in the little library in prison. She read every book they had and even managed to convince the padre to bring in more for her to read.”

  Dr. Brown nibbles on her pen for a moment before she realizes I’m watching. “So Danielle came into being after prison, I take it? You utilized all the learning from Ella and—”

  “And”—I decide to finish for her—“realized that we really are a screwed-up family and need someone to help us navigate the real world. So in comes Dani. She’s only here to help us, to help us deal as much as we can. The next time she wakes up, she won’t remember any of this or Cheshire. I created a whole backstory for her that is different from anything we’ve lived. We all have different backgrounds, but I wanted her to have a happy childhood, one where her parents really did love her. That’s what she’ll remember. I keep her and Savannah on a loop, I guess you could say.”

  I can see the doctor wanting to interject, to ask a question about that, but honestly, who has time for that? I’m getting tired. I need to pee, and I’m hangry.

  “Tyler is someone I created because I needed help. He was my watcher. He kept an eye on things, showed me things I’d missed. He’s actually really smart, but you wouldn’t know it from his behavior lately.”

  I can see the questions swirling in her brain. I’ve given her so much to go on already. But I need time to focus on what she said earlier, that I’m the reason
we’re all in here.

  Shit.

  “Listen, I promise, I’ll tell you everything, explain it all. Even the murders and how we picked the children to save. But”—my foot starts tapping with energy I need to expel—“I gotta get out of here, okay? Please? Just a break?”

  Dr. Brown looks at her watch. She’d better not ask for only a few more minutes.

  I breathe a silent sigh of relief as she nods.

  “I’ll have someone escort you back to your cell, Ava. Now that we’ve met, I’ll see about getting you moved to a different location. For the time being, we’ll be meeting a few times a day. I’ll make sure you get some breaks, though.” She pauses, the look in her eye as if gauging how much to tell me. “The police have a lot of questions they need answered. You understand that, right?”

  I nod, eager to get out. I stand and glance at the ankle bracelets I know I’m going to be wearing for a long time. Again.

  She sees what I’m looking at and frowns. “Do you plan on hurting any of us?”

  “No.” I add as much conviction as I can into my voice. “We’re here to stay—I know that. I made the mistake. I’m the one who has to pay. He says so.”

  Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Tyler?” she asks.

  I snort. “God no.” I don’t know how much to tell her about him. He scares me, truth be told. Maybe . . . maybe she could help me with that.

  “Listen,” I say, “there’s a long road ahead of us, one I need to figure out how to navigate. One you can help me with.” I don’t mean it, not truly, but I need her to trust me. I can’t do it alone, and hopefully they won’t put me on strong meds that will dull my senses. They shouldn’t if I can show I’m safe and willing to work with them.

  As much as I hate it, I’ll work with them. With her. We did it before; we can do it again. He warned me I’d have to pay for the mistakes I made, for placing my needs ahead of the family.

  Everyone else listens to me. But I listen to him.

  “Then I’ll see if we can forgo the ankle cuffs. Are you going to be okay?” She places a hand on my arm, a friendly gesture that I appreciate more than I’m willing to admit.

  I swallow back a ball of emotion and just nod.

  I need to think about who I can awaken, someone I can trust enough to share this space with me, someone who will let me take the lead but can help me navigate the paths. Someone who can help me figure out how to get us out of here, so we can continue helping children who need us.

  I know who that someone will be.

  It’s time to awaken a member of our family who has been asleep for a very long time.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, THAT’S the great puzzle!

  —Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

  With every story I write, there is always a team alongside me, and without them, without their support, I wouldn’t be who I am, and this book wouldn’t be what it is.

  Pamela Harty and Danielle Marshall, I can’t thank you enough. Pamela, thank you for always listening and being there for me. Danielle, from the moment I met you, you have encouraged me to follow my heart. This book wouldn’t be what it is without you or Alicia Clancy—not just because you both are brilliant editors but because your belief in both me and my career has been life changing.

  Tonni Callan, where have you been all my life? Your enthusiasm for this story helped me over the mental and emotional bumps. Thank you for loving the concept as much as I did. Special thanks to Kristy Barrett at the Novel Bee Facebook Group for your support, your help, and all your ideas.

  Margie Lawson, my tribe, my friend, my writing coach. You deserve a huge bouquet of thank-you balloons and an extra-large hug. I’ve never had someone push me to honor my readers more than you. My brain is mush; otherwise, I’d write something outlandish, off the wall, and offbeat, so instead you’ll have to accept this ordinary expression of love from me.

  Kelly Charron, Laura Lovett, Abby Roads, Trish Loye, members of my Secret Society FB Group, my girls who text with me every day and help me through plot points (Elena, Dara, Trish . . . here’s to more conferences, more bottles of wine, and more writing sprints), all those in the FB group called Readers Coffeehouse, and so many others, I would willingly share my chocolate with you any day!

  I couldn’t end this without thanking my family. While I was writing this story, so many things have happened to us, and yet we’ve made it through it all because we remained together. I will always remember this as the book I wrote when two of my daughters moved out and became adults and when my husband and I decided to get off the crazy cycle and I fell in love with him all over again. So, with that in mind, thank you to Jarrett for taking on the role of chef, and to my kids, who put up with my blank stares as I rethought a plot point . . . let’s do it all over again, shall we?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2013 Vanessa Pressacco Studios

  Steena Holmes is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of titles including Saving Abby, Stillwater Rising, and The Memory Child. The Word Game was named to the “20 Best Books by Women in 2015” list by Good Housekeeping and Redbook and won the USA Book News Award, and Steena won the National Indie Excellence Award in 2012 for Finding Emma. Steena lives in Calgary, Alberta, and is a self-proclaimed “travelholic” who can’t resist a good cup of coffee. To find out more about her books and her love of traveling, you can visit her website at www.steenaholmes.com or follow her journeys on Instagram @authorsteenaholmes.