by Lynette Noni
“Cami will show you around,” he continues. “Your schedule hasn’t changed, but the guards will pick you up and drop you off here from now on.” He pauses, seems to debate saying more, lets out a breath and goes on. “I’m still working on getting them to leave off the handcuffs.”
The ground is dissolving under my feet. Surely I must be sinking into an alternate dimension. One where silent girls are befriended by armored knights and bouncing children and swallowed up in dreams so real they bleed life into the very walls, turning the blandness of whites, grays and beiges into rainbows so dazzling that the air itself comes alive with their colors.
I open my mouth, close it, open it again and then snap it shut. More than anything, I want to say something. I want to give voice to my gratitude. I’m nowhere near willing to trust him, but he’s given me something precious, and I want him to know just how much it means to me. So, tentatively — very, very tentatively — I stretch my hand forward and wrap my fingers around his forearm, squeezing gently for a fraction of a second.
From a normal person, an arm touch isn’t anything special. But from me, the simple gesture is like a shout. And Ward’s expression tells me he understands all the words I’m not saying.
“Chip —”
Cami interrupts us, gliding down the hallway again. “Time to say goodnight, Landon.”
Ward looks like he’s swallowing words as he pulls in a sharp breath and turns away, nodding.
“’Night, Cam.” He kisses her forehead. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves him toward the door with a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
“See you tomorrow, Chip,” Ward says to me. After one last glance, he disappears through the door, and it seals shut behind him.
I’m in a daze as Cami grabs my hand and shows me around. The suite is a more colorful version of Ward’s quarters but with an extra bedroom. She’s talking excitedly, but my mind is stuck replaying the moment I just shared with her brother. It’s only when we reach my bedroom that my attention returns to the present.
I stand in the doorway, fighting back tears for the second time tonight. The room — my room — is like something from a daydream. Since we’re underground, there are no windows, but an oil painting on the pale-yellow wall shows a beach leading into an endless blue ocean. It’s better than any view a window could offer, but as wonderful as it is, it’s nothing compared to the bed — which is just as luxurious as Ward’s.
With a skip in her step, Cami leads me over to a wardrobe and opens it to reveal a plethora of clothes — all for me. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I run my fingers along the materials, overwhelmed.
“No more uniforms for you,” she says happily. Reading my expression, she quietly adds, “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
When I nod, she curls an arm around me and pulls me into a side hug.
“Don’t worry, Jane. We’ll have you feeling like a human again in no time. Then all this will seem normal to you, just like it should.”
Perhaps she’s right, but how long will those feelings last?
I only have fifteen days left to offer a convincing reason for why I should be allowed to remain at Lengard. And no matter how much my circumstances may have changed, I will not — I absolutely will not — answer any of their questions. I can’t. Which means the clock is still counting down, becoming louder with every pass of the minute hand.
Cami doesn’t know. Ward wouldn’t have told her, I’m sure. That pleases me, because it means she won’t treat me like I’m a ticking time bomb. I just might be able to enjoy the days I have left, a final gift I could never have allowed myself to imagine.
The room, the bed, the clothes, the company — they’re perfect. For the first time in over two and a half years, I don’t feel alone, cold, scared or uncomfortable. I’m determined to hold on to this feeling of freedom for as long as I can …
For as long as I have left.
CHAPTER NINE
Twelve more days pass without Ward mentioning the countdown.
When I see him every afternoon, he hands me a book as usual, and I read. Sometimes he speaks, saying words that have little or no consequence. Other times he writes, reads or just sits there, staring at nothing — or staring at me. It’s the latter that makes me uncomfortable. I always keep my eyes averted when I sense him watching me, but it still makes me feel like my skin is simultaneously freezing and burning.
It’s been twenty-six days since our first session together, and I still know very little about Landon Ward. What I do know is that things changed after I spent the night in his room, and not just with Ward — Enzo has been different, too. Both have been uncharacteristically protective, to the point that, the day following our dinner with the Falon family, Enzo insisted on walking me back to my suite after our training session rather than sending me off with the guards. He waited while I showered — and since it was in my own private bathroom, there was no time limit, which was absolute bliss; he ate lunch with me — and it wasn’t my usual bland, protein-enhanced meal but, instead, the leftover lasagna and vegetables that Esther had dropped off for Cami and me that morning; and then he hung out on our couch until it was time for my session with Vanik. Enzo then personally escorted me to the laboratory — which meant no guards again, as well as no handcuffs — and he proceeded to blow my mind by leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring so intently at the scientist that I felt chills break out on my skin from the frosty look on his face.
“Ward spoke with you?” Enzo had said to Vanik, who nodded tightly in response. “If you think he wasn’t serious, you’d be wrong. I’m here to make sure you know that.”
Vanik had audibly gulped at that, and I’d been left staring at the two of them, tossing Enzo’s words around in my mind and wondering what Ward had said to my greasy-haired tormentor. It sounded as if Ward had threatened Vanik. But why would he do that — and for me?
Whatever words Ward had used — or whatever threat Enzo’s presence provided — they were enough that, for the first time ever, I left Vanik’s session that day without even the slightest headache. He’d treated me like cotton wool and spent most of his time glancing nervously at Enzo, who stood flexing his muscles and scowling for the entire two hours.
I hadn’t been able to contain my smile when we exited the laboratory. The grin was still on my face when Enzo escorted me directly to Ward and left me with him. I didn’t care that I wasn’t filtering my reaction; I was simply too happy that my brain was still intact. And I felt that I owed it to both Enzo and Ward to let them know how grateful I was, in the only way I could. My smile said all the words I couldn’t. And they’d known as much.
Since that first day, Enzo has continued with the new schedule, joining me for lunch, hanging out in the suite and supervising all my sessions with Vanik. The scientist has been barely able to control his frustration. Over the last couple of days, he’s looked almost ready to crack, but he still manages to keep up the cotton-wool charade, being overly gentle with me. I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt so good, physically and mentally — not at Lengard, anyway. I have both Ward and Enzo to thank for that.
Cami and I don’t get to see each other much — only during breakfast and after I finish my readathon sessions with her brother at the end of the day — but our moments together have been highlights of my past twelve days. Never before have I met anyone so full of life and so willing to share it. I have no idea how I can feel so connected to her after such a short time, but I do. And I know that’s dangerous.
“Time for a change of plans,” Ward says, jolting me from my thoughts and bringing me back into the library room. “We’re doing something different for the rest of our time today.”
I close my book and look up at him in question. We’ve never done anything new during our sessions, not even in the days that have passed since things changed. I’m curious — and apprehensive — about what he’ll say next
.
“It’s a good thing you wear normal clothes now, Chip, because otherwise you’d look really out of place where we’re going.”
I blink at him and mentally replay his words: Where we’re going?
“Come on, Esther’s waiting for us.”
Ward opens the door and motions for me to follow him into the corridor. I’m hesitant, uncertain and not just a little bit wary. I’ve seen Esther only once since our lasagna dinner, and I haven’t seen her children since they fell asleep on me. I’m not thrilled about the possibility of running into her husband today, not when I only have three days left until my time runs out. But it seems I don’t really have a choice. Some things haven’t changed.
“Tick-tock, Chip.”
Ward’s words mirror my thoughts perfectly, even if he’s just trying to motivate me out of the room. He jerks his head in a “hurry up” gesture, so I let out a quiet breath and move past him into the hallway.
When we reach Esther’s door, she greets us both warmly. The kids come running, full of smiles, their bright faces easing the tension within me. There is no sign of Falon.
“Are you guys ready?” Ward asks. “Got your shoes? Coats?”
Esther catches my wondering gaze and aims a raised eyebrow at Ward. “You didn’t tell her?”
He shrugs, smiling. “I thought she might appreciate the surprise.”
“You’re terrible,” Esther says. “Put the poor girl out of her misery while I get the kids organized.”
She follows her children, calling out instructions as she goes. I’m still waiting for someone to explain why we’re here — why I’m here — and I tap my foot on the ground, an indication to Ward that my patience is waning. His smile only grows. But he does take the hint.
“My position here at Lengard allows me to come and go at will,” Ward tells me. “You’ve been down here for a long time — too long — so I thought you might like to take a trip topside. A change from our normal routine.”
He looks uncomfortable, as if his thoughtfulness is something to be embarrassed about. Or perhaps he’s just reacting to the shock I can feel plastered all over my face. I can’t help it. He might as well have just announced that the Easter Bunny is real.
Topside.
As in outside.
I haven’t been outside for nine hundred and fifty-one days, eight hours and fifty-four minutes. I haven’t seen the sky in that time, breathed fresh air in that time, felt the sun’s warmth on my skin in that time. My heart is beating rapidly; my breath is shallow. I’m not sure if I’m excited or terrified at the thought of leaving the safety of these walls. Of leaving my prison.
“The kids don’t get out that much, so I told Esther we’d take them with us,” Ward continues, scratching the back of his neck. “I — I hope that’s okay.”
Okay? Nothing about this is okay. Everything about this is terrifying.
And yet … everything about this is also perfect.
Three days. That’s all I have left. And in taking me outside, Ward is giving me the greatest gift of all.
He’s allowing me to say goodbye.
That must be the reason he won’t meet my eyes. He knows as well as I do what is coming.
“Here, Jane, you can borrow this,” Esther says, returning to us and handing me a black jacket. “You have a few hours of sunshine left, but it’s still quite chilly out there. Autumn winds and all that.”
I take the coat numbly from her and slide my arms through the sleeves, glad that I decided on jeans and a plain T-shirt after my session with Enzo. Last time I was aboveground, this would have been a passable outfit.
Esther tilts her head and studies me. “You know what? When you’re back, you can keep it. It looks good on you.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head firmly — for a lot of reasons, the main one being that I won’t have long to enjoy it — but she just reaches out and brushes some lint from my shoulder.
“I insist. Think of it as payment for looking after my children this afternoon.”
I wish I could tell her it’s been so long since I’ve been outside that they’ll probably be the ones looking after me.
“You’ll need these, as well.” Esther hands me a pair of dark boots, and I send her a grateful look. Despite my new wardrobe, shoes are still not permitted.
“We’re ready, Landy! We’re ready!” Abby squeals, running full speed toward us. Ethan and Isaac follow her more slowly, but I can still see the excitement in their eyes.
“Make sure you stay close to Landon and Jane, and do everything you’re told,” Esther says to her children, straightening their coats and kissing their foreheads. “Best behavior, understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, Mummy” (Abby) and “Okay, Mum” (the boys) meets our ears, and Esther nods approvingly.
“Take care of them, Landon,” she says quietly to him. Her eyes then settle on me and she adds, “All of them.”
I’m warmed by her words, since her emphasis can’t be misinterpreted. I send her a soft smile of gratitude, and in return she leans forward and kisses my forehead, just like she did with her children.
I blink once, twice, three times, fast, and swallow back the tears clogging my throat as I recall the last time such affection was bestowed upon me. Some memories are buried for a reason, but it’s still hard to keep them at bay. A mother’s loving touch has the power to break through even the most fortified mental defenses.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths, and I am almost in control.
“Are we going?” Ethan asks, impatient.
“We’re going, buddy,” Ward responds, but his watchful eyes are on me. “Why don’t you wait in the corridor. Chip and I will be out in a moment.”
The three children scurry through the door as Esther bids us a quiet farewell and disappears into another room. Once we’re alone, I glance at Ward, wondering why he sent the kids on ahead of us. He appears torn, almost apologetic, and I look at him in question.
“I’m sorry, Chip, but the only reason my uncle agreed to let me take you topside is because I promised I’d get you to wear these.”
He holds out a pair of handcuffs, and I sigh. It would have been nice to be allowed outside with complete freedom, but I understand why Falon would object to that, especially considering, well, everything. I’ll still be seeing the sun. Handcuffs can’t take that away from me.
I press my wrists together and hold them out, nodding at Ward in a gesture for him to go ahead. He reaches for my left wrist and secures the cuff around it but takes me off guard by cuffing the other half of the pair to his right wrist, effectively binding me to him.
“I didn’t want you wearing these,” Ward continues as if he never stopped speaking, “so this was my compromise.”
He jiggles our hands, and I stare mutely, wondering what he’s thinking. I never imagined us having this sort of connection. I never wanted this sort of connection. But now …
“We’re in this together, Chip. Imprisoned or free.”
I have to close my eyes as his words wash over me. I can’t handle the weight of them. Can’t he see that he’s just making this harder for me? Every kind gesture, every soft touch, every caring word just makes me more aware of what I’m going to be leaving behind.
Who I’m going to be leaving behind.
My eyes flutter back open when the fingers of his cuffed hand entwine with my own, causing my breath to hitch. He tugs me after him with a quiet warning to keep our coat sleeves covering the cuffs so as not to draw unwanted attention.
I feel another jab of heartbreaking pain when Abby skips over and laces her fingers with my free hand.
“We’re going on an aventure!” she cries happily, about three hundred decibels louder than necessary.
“Adventure, Ab,” Ethan corrects. “Adventure.”
“That’s what I said!” She swings our hands merrily as Ward leads us down the hallway. “Aventure!”
Before they can argue more, Ward cuts in. “You guys remember
the three rules for going topside?”
“Don’t talk to strangers,” Abby recites.
“Stay in sight at all times,” Isaac adds.
“And the last one?” Ward prompts.
“If something happens and we get split up, head straight back to the tower and wait for someone to come get us,” Ethan dutifully answers.
I push aside the painful torrent of emotion and look down at the eldest boy with curiosity, wondering about his tower mention.
“Good,” Ward says, bringing us to a halt in front of yet another generic-looking door.
I feel a sense of anticipation at the idea of leaving the facility, not just because of what I’ll get to experience on the outside but also because, when they first brought me here, I was drugged to the point where all I can remember is the endless bland walls and then nothing until I woke up in my cell. That’s it. But now … well, now I’ll get to see beyond the walls.
One last time.
“Sorry about this, Chip.” Ward pulls a long piece of black material from his jeans pocket and turns toward me. “Director’s order.”
I don’t have the chance to process his words before he spins me so my back is facing him, lifts his hands — bringing my bound one with him — and rests the makeshift blindfold over my eyes, binding it behind my head. This move is executed so smoothly that I’m left stunned, wondering how I didn’t see it coming. Of course I’m not allowed to see how we’re going to leave the facility. I’m a security risk. I should have known. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still burning with resentment.
“Are we playing hide-and-seek, Landy?” Abby asks. “I thought we were going outside.”
“Not hide-and-seek, baby girl,” Ward answers, before blatantly lying. “But Chip is playing a different game. She thinks it’s lots of fun.”
“She doesn’t look very happy,” Abby observes. “We should get her an ice cream when we’re outside. Ice cream makes everything better.”
“That sounds like a good idea, gorgeous,” says Ward. “We can all get ice creams — how about that?”
I sigh, choosing to let my irritation go, since holding on to it will only ruin what I’m about to experience.
