by Lynette Noni
I suddenly realize I need to get out of here. These people are too normal. They’re too real. They’re too … colorful. I’m used to bland. I’m used to whitewashed. I’m used to pillowcase uniforms, regulated meals and unchanging schedules. I don’t know what to do with fluffy beds, warm clothes, steaming soup, reflective mirrors, chocolate chips and laughing angels. That’s not my life — not anymore. And it never will be again.
I feel warm — too warm — so I draw the sleeves of Ward’s hoodie up to my elbows. I’m trying to figure out how to escape back to my safe, quiet, uncolored cell, when Cami lets out a gasp. She reaches across for my hands and latches on to them before I can pull them away.
“What the hell is this?”
I look down and see the skin around my wrists streaked with black and blue. Before I can do anything — like yank my hands back — Ward and Enzo both lean in for a closer look.
“Handcuffs are uncomfortable, but they don’t leave bruises,” Enzo says.
That’s not always true. But in this case, Enzo is correct.
“You didn’t have those yesterday,” Ward says, his voice tight. He turns to Enzo. “She didn’t, right?”
Enzo shakes his head. “Definitely not. It must have happened sometime after our session.”
I see the moment when realization hits them both, and Enzo spits out the name, “Vanik.”
“Vanik?” Cami is alarmed. “You didn’t mention anything about her working with Vanik.”
“We’re not allowed to tell you details. You know that,” Ward says, his voice soft, gentle … careful. “There are rules, Cami. Even for me.”
“We know how you feel about him, Cam,” Enzo states, also using a gentle tone. “And you have reason — you both have reason — to feel that way.”
His inclusion of Ward piques my curiosity, but no further details are offered.
Cami’s grip on my hands is unyielding. “You have no idea how I feel about him,” she snaps.
“You don’t like him,” Enzo says. “We get it. Trust me, we do.”
“I don’t like him?” Cami lets out a laugh so bitter that it gives me goose bumps. “I don’t just not like him, Enzo. I hate him. I wish he was dead.”
Five words. That’s all it takes for my world to stop. They take half a breath for Cami to say, but they play on repeat in my mind for an eternity.
I wish he was dead.
I wish you were dead.
“Jane?”
I hate you. Both of you. I wish you were dead.
“Chip?”
I’m never talking to you again.
“JD, you cool?”
You’re dead to me.
A rough shake interrupts the screaming in my mind, enough for me to I realize I’m trembling and taking unnaturally large gulps of air.
“What the hell, JD?”
Enzo gives me another shake, though not as forcefully this time. I see Cami and Ward both half raised out of their seats and staring at me in concern. I quickly turn aside, only to find Enzo’s eyes scanning my face as if he’s trying to judge my sanity.
I jerk away and jump out of my chair. I stumble backward a few steps, needing a moment before I can get my legs working properly. Then I tear off down the hallway without looking back at any of them. When I reach the bathroom, I slam the door shut and move straight over to the counter, where I brace my hands against it. It takes a few tries before I can summon Ward’s voice from last night, but when I manage it, he gives me exactly what I need.
“In … and out. And in … and out. Just like that.”
I’m not sure how long I stare down at my hands and focus on my breathing, but eventually I get myself under control and am able to look up at my reflection. My skin is so white it’s almost blue. My pupils are dilated, and my lips are quivering. Every muscle in my body is lined with tension. I can’t look anymore. Because the more I do, the more I see them.
I move to the far side of the bathroom until the mirror is out of sight, and I slide down the wall, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around my legs. It’s in this position that Cami finds me when she slowly pushes open the door.
“Jane?”
My eyes remain closed, my head cocooned by arms that protect me from the world.
I can feel her hesitation like it’s a tangible thing. Then something changes, and she moves until she’s sliding down the wall beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I stiffen and try to pull away, but her grip only tightens.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay.”
She’s wrong. Nothing is okay. I know this. But there’s something about her tone that soothes my anguish, filling me with peace.
Other than Ward, no one has held me like this in years. We might be on the cold, hard floor of a bathroom, and I might be beating back images that want to destroy me, but with Cami’s arm around me, I feel an illusion of safety. She can’t possibly know how much I need this. I didn’t know. But there’s no denying the comfort of her embrace.
She hums a quiet melody and combs her fingers through my hair. My heartbeat begins to settle, my breathing begins to stabilize, my trembling begins to ease and my thoughts begin to quiet.
I’m not sure how long she cradles me, but eventually she stops humming and softly asks, “Better?”
I nod into her shoulder, knowing I owe her that much.
“Think you’re ready to get up?”
This time I don’t respond, since I dread facing Ward and Enzo after my meltdown.
“The boys are gone,” Cami says, as if reading my thoughts. “You’ve been given the day off, but they haven’t. It’s just us girls now.”
She must feel the remaining tension leak out of me, because she pulls her arm away and stands, holding out a hand for me. I look up at her open, caring face, and I make a decision. I don’t understand — or trust — her brother’s motives, but Cami’s not my evaluator. She doesn’t have to be nice to me. She just is. Even if it turns out that she’s in on Ward’s plans, I don’t have it in me to distrust her, not when my defenses are at an all-time low. So, better judgment or not, I place my hand in hers and let her guide me to my feet and out of the bathroom.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I can’t remember a better day, certainly not since long before I arrived at Lengard.
Cami doesn’t leave my side for more than a few minutes at a time. Maybe Ward put her up to it, maybe she’s just bored, but either way, I don’t mind her presence. She’s talkative — so talkative — and she has a vibrancy about her that, rather than making me feel exhausted, fills me with energy. With her, I smile more in a few hours than I have for years. Unlike Ward and Enzo, she doesn’t gape at me when it happens.
I don’t know what the time is now, just that the day is almost over. Cami and I had a late lunch, and she let me help her in the kitchen again, even if it was just to make sandwiches this time. But sandwiches were perfect for me because, again, they were different — and I’m being reminded more and more today of how wonderful “different” can be.
After lunch, we settled in on Ward’s couch, and we haven’t moved since, mostly because Cami pulled a pile of movies from her bag and we’ve been watching them on the flat screen for hours. It’s been so long since I’ve seen any kind of movie, and I’m enjoying every thrilling second. Especially since Cami cooked up a massive bowl of buttery popcorn — an indulgence I’m sure Enzo will make me work off over my next few sessions.
The credits are rolling at the end of our third movie, when the door to the suite opens. I’m relaxed in Cami’s easy presence, with my feet tucked underneath me and my face cushioned in the armrest. But when Ward walks in with a large paper bag and finds us lounging on the couch together, I stiffen automatically.
“Hey, Lando,” Cami greets.
Her head is resting on the crook of my bent knee. She refuses to budge even when I shift my leg pointedly under her.
Ward has frozen just inside the doorway a
nd is staring at the two of us like he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. I don’t blame him. I doubt he’s ever seen me so off guard.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Aunt Esther invited us over for dinner.” His eyes shift to me. “She wants to make sure you’re okay, Chip.” He moves closer and hands me the bag he’s carrying. “This is for you.”
His offering causes Cami to sit up — finally — and she peers into the bag with me as I open it.
“Oooh, pretty,” Cami coos, reaching for the material inside and holding it up against my rigid body. “Good pick, Landon. It’s the perfect color for her. But where did it come from? If you were going topside today, you should’ve taken us with you — especially to go shopping.”
Ward ignores her. “Esther wants us there in ten, so do what you need to get ready. Enzo is meeting us there.”
I think he says the last as a warning to me. Not that it’s necessary. I’m already panicking, mostly because of the dress. I don’t need to put it on to know it’s the most beautiful thing I’ll have worn in years. And sure enough, after a quick trip to the bathroom to change out of Ward’s borrowed clothes, I’m left staring once again in the mirror, startled anew by the person I see staring back at me.
“Jane, you ready?”
Cami knocks once on the door and lets herself in. She sees me and whistles through her teeth.
“Look at you.”
I am looking at me. I can’t seem to draw my gaze from my reflection.
The summer dress fits perfectly, and try as I might, when I look at myself, I have a hard time seeing any traces of them. I’m not sure if that upsets me or fills me with relief.
“Here, let’s do something with your hair.”
I stand perfectly still and let Cami pull my wayward locks up into a messy bun.
“Perfect.” She smiles at me through the mirror and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the room. “Time to go.”
I’m examining my woolen-covered feet as we enter the main area of Ward’s quarters and wondering whether I should take the socks off, when Cami gives my hand a squeeze. I glance up in question — and halt at the expression on Ward’s face.
My face is burning again; I can feel it. I wish they would both stop looking at me. I didn’t choose to wear the pretty — too pretty — dress. As much as I hate my uniform, I would wear the same pillowcase for the next thousand years if it meant I’d never have to feel this uncomfortable again.
“Don’t we have somewhere to be?” Cami asks when the silence lingers, and I’m grateful for her intervention. Ward shakes his head as if to clear it. “Yes. We do.”
Without another word, he leads the way from the room, and a grinning Cami drags me after him. She stops us at the door to hand me a pair of flip-flops. I exchange them for my woolly socks, and they fit perfectly.
“I thought we looked around the same size,” Cami says, nodding to my feet. “I’d let you keep them, but the wackedout rules here say you can’t have any footwear until you’ve committed yourself to the program. What’s with that?”
Her mention of the increasingly mysterious “program” piques my interest more than Lengard’s footwear rules. I consider how I might press her for more details, but Ward calls to us loudly from farther down the corridor, closing my window of opportunity.
“Are you two coming?”
“He’s so uptight tonight.” Cami laughs quietly and drags me after him again. “I’m loving this. You’re seriously good entertainment, Jane.”
I don’t think anyone has called me “good entertainment” — ever. Not even back when I made an effort to be someone people wanted to spend time with.
I try to get my bearings as Ward leads us down a hallway, but I have no idea what area of the facility we’re in. The doors on either side of us all look the same, and the unending, colorless walls offer no clarity. When we come to a stop in front of a door, I frown, because something about this area seems familiar. I don’t have time to figure out why before Ward knocks twice, opens the door and motions for us to enter. Cami is still tugging on my hand, so I follow as she pulls me past her brother and into the room beyond.
What I see causes me to stop dead.
“Mum! They’re here!”
Cami releases me and opens her arms for two golden-haired boys, who run directly toward her. She has to bend to embrace them, and she squeezes them in a hug until the boys are laughingly begging for her to let them go.
A high-pitched squeal rings out, followed by an excited, “Landy! Landy! Mummy, Landy’s here!”
I watch with wide eyes as Ward kneels just in time to catch a blurring missile of dark ringlets.
“Beautiful Abigale, gorgeous as ever.” He rises to his feet with the little girl still in his arms, her legs wrapped tight around his torso.
He throws her up in the air, and she cries out, “Again! Again!”
“Anything for my favorite girl,” he says, his smile almost as bright as hers.
I’m sure my mouth must be hanging open, but I can’t help it.
He’s my evaluator. He’s my evaluator. He’s my evaluator.
I can’t pull my eyes away from them. Not until —
“Hey! I’ve seen you before!”
I turn to look at the boy who spoke. He’s the older of the two, though not by much.
“Ethan, this is Jane,” Cami says, her hand resting on his shoulder. She turns to me. “Jane, meet Ethan and Isaac.”
The older one — Ethan — gives me a curious look, while his younger brother, Isaac, offers me a grin and a shy wave.
“I’m Abby!” cries the little girl, still clinging to Ward.
She pushes against him until he sets her back on the ground, then she takes a running leap that leaves me with no choice but to catch her. I automatically draw her up into my arms, and she doesn’t hesitate to circle her hands around my neck.
“We have the same hair! Look!” She pulls on a strand that has escaped my bun and holds it up against one of her own ringlets. “We could be twins!”
I can’t fight my smile. She’s simply too adorable. But of course that’s the moment Enzo walks in from another room, accompanied by a blond-haired woman I’ve seen once before. Unlike the last time — when she found me with the guards in the hallway — she’s not staring at me in fear. Still, she appears wary.
“Well, I’ll be damned. There’s that smile again.” Enzo crosses his arms and grins at me. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with JD?”
I don’t have it in me to wipe my face clear, not when Abby is now plaiting our hair together. It’s becoming one big, tangled mess, but that doesn’t seem to stop her.
“Enzo! Watch your mouth,” says the woman, whom I presume is Esther.
Enzo winces. “Sorry, Es. My bad.”
“We’re not allowed to use the D-word,” Abby informs me, her fingers still weaving through my hair. “Or the H-word.”
“Ethan used the H-word in front of Dad last week, and he was told to sit in the corner for ten whole minutes,” Isaac says, timidly taking one step closer, then another, until he’s right beside me. He curls his little hand around the hem of my dress and tugs gently, so I lower myself into a closed-knees squat, balancing carefully with Abby still in my arms. He leans in farther, like he has some great secret only I can hear, and whispers in my ear, “You’re really pretty.”
With three words, this small child does the impossible.
He causes me to laugh.
I don’t know who’s more shocked — me or everyone else. It’s one thing to smile. But to laugh? Unheard of. For so — so — many reasons.
Enzo is gaping at me. Ward’s head is tilted, and his dimple is out. Cami looks like she’s about to burst into joyous tears. Esther still appears wary, but her eyes have warmed toward me. The only people in the room who don’t seem to understand the significance of what just happened are the three small humans now asking their mother how long until dinner is ready.
Esther clears her thr
oat and orders her children to go and wash up. I let go of Abby and watch as she runs off after her brothers.
“I’m Esther — Landon and Cami’s aunt,” the woman finally greets me. She holds out a hand, and I hesitate only a beat before reaching to meet it with my own. “You’re looking much better tonight. A day of rest seems to be exactly what you needed.” She turns to Ward. “No problems?”
He glances at me, and I wonder if he’s going to mention my panic attack. But when Ward turns back to his aunt, he just shakes his head. “All good. But do you have something to help her wrists?”
I’d forgotten all about the marks left from Vanik’s manacles. I don’t resist when Esther reaches for my hands and gently turns them over.
“I didn’t notice these yesterday. The bruising must have come out overnight.” She frowns before giving me a searching look.
Enzo explains with only one word. “Vanik.”
Esther’s smoky eyes darken. “I should have something among my medical supplies. We’ll be right back.”
I give Cami a pleading look as Esther pulls me away, but Ward’s sister just sends me an encouraging smile and waves me from the room.
“There’s no need to worry — this won’t take long,” Esther says, opening the door to a bathroom much larger than Ward’s. She sits me down on the edge of a tub filled with colorful toys and tells me to wait a moment while she rifles through the medicine cabinet.
She returns to my side with a tube of ointment and kneels in front of me, then carefully applies the balm to first my left and then my right wrist.
“I remember seeing you that night with the guards,” she says as she massages the gel into my skin. “I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Since she is the head medic, someone must have warned her about my threat level, prompting her fear of me. I feel my body bracing for a blow.
“But you should know I wouldn’t be allowing you into my home and around my children if I thought you might harm any of us.”
I jerk in surprise. It’s only a slight movement, but she catches it all the same and sends me a reassuring smile.
