Asylum

by Madeleine Roux

  “Uh-huh,” Teague said. He motioned for Dan to continue, but then a third cop strode up to them. She handed Teague a phone. Felix’s phone.

  “I think you should see this,” she said. “And you need to confiscate this kid’s cell.”

  Dan swallowed around a knot, the hot, sick feeling in his gut enough to make him want to double over and hurl. Both cops stared at him, waiting.

  “What’s on Felix’s phone?” Dan asked, stumbling over the words. When had it gotten so hot in the room? He was sweating bullets. “Please, I’m sure I can explain if you just—”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you can. Your phone, please.”

  “But—”

  “Your phone.” Teague narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to ask again.”

  It was no use protesting. Maybe this was for the best. His outbox probably had a message like “HELLO FELIX I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO BASH YOUR BRAINS IN WITH A CROWBAR.” Somehow, it would happen. Then he’d be taken to jail and locked up. At least then he couldn’t get into any more trouble. He’d be left alone with his thoughts, and that would finish him off without ever needing a trial.

  Then Dan remembered he had a message from the Sculptor in his in-box. Now the police would have to believe him. And they could trace the number!

  Dan handed Teague the phone. It would all be over soon.

  Teague found his sent messages quickly. “Bingo,” he said triumphantly. “ߢFifth floor lounge, 3:30, I’ve got something cool to show you.’” He clucked his tongue softly. “Just what was on Felix’s phone. Sounds friendly enough, kid. What went wrong?”

  “I didn’t send that,” Dan snapped, ballistic. “I didn’t. I swear to you.…”

  “Do I look like an idiot?” Teague asked.

  “Check my in-box!” Dan burst out. “I told you there’s a message there from the Sculptor telling me to meet him here!”

  Teague looked at him strangely, but clicked on the in-box. There was a pause. “Nothing there, kid. No mysterious message. And like I said before, the Sculptor is dead.”

  This was getting worse by the second. The sweat had soaked through the front of Dan’s shirt. He wanted to curl up and disappear.

  “Why don’t you tell me what really happened.”

  Dan took a deep breath. “Honestly, I don’t even know any more,” he said. Teague narrowed his eyes. “I tried to find a cop before I came up here but no one was around.”

  “Kid, we’ve got cops on every floor.”

  “There wasn’t one when I left my room!” Dan shouted. “All I know is I got to the fifth floor and heard Felix crying out for help. So I came in here and there was this huge guy with a crowbar. I ran at him.”

  “Go on,” said Teague.

  “We were fighting, and then he heard you guys coming and he jumped out that window.” Dan pointed to it again, feeling especially stupid.

  Teague looked at Dan and slowly shook his head. “Okay, kid, let’s go along with you for now. Let’s say there’s this mystery man who climbs out of a window on the fifth floor after attacking your best friend. Have you ever seen this man before?”

  “Never,” Dan replied, locking eyes firmly with Teague.

  The cop hesitated, looking Dan over and chewing the inside of his cheek. “You know, the weird thing is I almost believe you. You’re either in the middle of one hell of a frame-up job or you’re a damn good liar.

  “Anyway, I suggest you keep your nose clean until we can sit you down and go over this again. I’m not going to take you to the station now, but I will if I have to. Until then, you’ll have an officer with you at all times.”

  “Wait—”

  “At all times.” Teague touched his forefinger to his nose and then pointed it at Dan. “You understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dan murmured.

  Adjusting his cap, Teague nodded, satisfied. Dan hardly felt the grip of the officer assigned to him. Felix would spend the night at the hospital, with an officer waiting patiently to question him, while Dan was manhandled back to his room. A feeling of numb dread settled in his bones. “I’ll be right outside,” said his jailer. “So don’t try anything funny.” The irony of his room being used as a cell did not escape him.

  The whole night, the whole day, now seemed like a dream. Particulars melted away, details disappeared. What had the man with the crowbar looked like? He couldn’t really remember now. Would Felix be able to corroborate Dan’s story? He didn’t know. He’d have to wait and see.

  He climbed into bed without feeling the mattress or blankets. It was strange to think that he was a suspect—that the police thought he had attacked Felix. Did they think he was responsible for Yi’s attack, too—and, oh God no, Joe’s murder? If they discovered he’d been blacked out in the basement, what would they say? All the evidence was against him.

  Outside the door, he heard his guard pacing slowly back and forth.

  I have to fight back, Dan thought, squeezing his eyes shut.

  His mind churned. Why would the Sculptor have a crowbar? That was a blunt weapon, a clumsy one. The Sculptor was smarter—crueler—than that. It frightened Dan that he could come to that conclusion so easily. He didn’t know the man, but he was beginning to understand, or at least recognize, his evil. And what did that say about him?

  Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.

  Dan rolled onto his side, staring at the clock. If this was a fight against madness, he felt like he was losing. Maybe he already had.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  .....................................................................

  CHAPTER

  No 30

  “I take it she’s your police escort?” Abby asked, eyes wide with fascination.

  “Yeah.” Dan didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know Officer Coates—that was her name—was standing three feet behind him.

  “So what happened last night?” Jordan asked. Morning light streamed in through the cafeteria windows over his shoulder. The line for pancakes was usually out the door, but it was significantly shorter today. Almost a third of the program’s students were gone. “I mean, after you texted me.”

  “I didn’t text you,” Dan replied automatically. Thinking hurt. He’d hardly slept. His head was stuffed with sleepy wool. He choked down a second cup of coffee and waved to Officer Coates. She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m lost,” Abby admitted, holding up a hand. “Did he text you or not?”

  “Jordan got a message from me, it was in my phone, but I can’t remember sending it … because I didn’t.” It sounded ridiculous enough that he didn’t blame Abby for her skepticism.

  “Nope,” she said. “Still lost.”

  “Me, too.” Dan forked his pancake apart into three pieces and scooted them around in the lake of syrup on his plate. He wanted food to taste good again. He wanted life to make sense again. “Anyway, the same thing happened but with Felix. I don’t want to go into it.… The whole thing’s a gigantic mess.”

  “You don’t want to go into it? But there’s a cop following you around. You don’t think that might warrant a bit of explanation?” Abby watched him intently from across the table.

  Dan knew that he hadn’t been fully forthright with them about things. He was no longer entirely sure why. As much as he liked the idea of having best friends with whom he could share anything, it was like all he knew how to be was alone, apart.

  “Maybe your phone is haunted,” Jordan said bitingly. “Maybe we should perform an exorcism.”

  “Don’t worry,” Abby cut in. “This is all just a misunderstanding, I’m sure of it.”

  I wish I was so sure.

  “Ha! Dan, not worry?” Jordan cackled. “You’re better off telling a duck not to quack.”

  “Thanks, you two. You always know how to make me feel better.”

  After breakfast, Dan walked to class with his friends, with Officer Coates following
ten feet back.

  “What do they think I’ll do?” Dan wondered aloud. “Run? Where would I go?”

  “It does feel a little excessive,” Abby agreed, glancing back at their tail. “At least she’s giving you space. I’m sure it could be worse.”

  Dan appreciated that Abby was determined to find the silver lining in everything that morning; he needed a dose of her optimism in his life. They split up when they reached the academic buildings, Jordan heading to one of his math classes while Abby walked off to the art building.

  Dan wasn’t prepared for the humiliation of attending class with an armed escort. Officer Coates waited outside his classroom, but even so, he felt the burn of accusing eyes on him. The remaining students pointed and whispered with zero subtlety. Dan could do nothing but put his head down, take notes, and try not to burst into flames from the embarrassment of it all. It didn’t help when he got passed a note that said, “Go home psycho.”

  Halfway through the lecture, Dan lost all ability to concentrate. He listened, not really understanding the words, and his hand continued to move, but he had no idea what he was writing.

  When class was over, Dan looked down at his notes and bit back the urge to shout. The last few sentences weren’t in his normal script, but he recognized the looping penmanship immediately. The warden’s. It wasn’t enough that the warden was in his head; now he was in his body, too. He collected his things at lightning speed and ran out the door. If he didn’t get some fresh air, he was going to be sick.

  Officer Coates stood in the sunshine waiting, and two other officers, including Teague, stood with her. Chatting with the police were the last two people on earth he expected to see.

  “Mom? Dad?” Dan hugged his backpack to his chest.

  “Sweetheart!” His mother ran over and wrapped him in her arms. He was surprised by how good the hug felt, and he actually had a hard time letting go. Part of him wanted to cry.

  “You’re okay,” Sandy said, hugging him harder. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

  “It’s good to see you, Mom,” he said.

  “Let’s take this inside.” Teague motioned toward the admissions building down the path. “We should have this conversation in private.”

  This was the moment Dan had been dreading since last night. His parents walked him north up the hill, the officers following a few steps in their wake. Dan couldn’t seem to stop shaking. It didn’t matter that he believed his own innocence, it would be impossible to convince anyone else once they found out how messed up he was.…

  “You just tell us if we need to call a lawyer, kiddo,” his father whispered to him. They were right outside the admissions building now.

  Dan frowned. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Inside, please, if you’ll follow me,” Teague said, charging ahead.

  Dan hadn’t been inside the admissions building before. It had that venerated old college feeling, with a high ceiling and slender windows and wood paneling on everything. In the front hall was a leather couch and an antique chair. Dan imagined anxious students waiting here, hoping that their college interviews went well. College seemed like a petty concern at the moment.

  The police escorted them past the waiting area to a small room on the right. Teague and his parents went first, with Dan bringing up the rear. Officer Coates and another cop waited outside the door.

  He was now shaking so bad he could hardly sit down without knocking over the chair.

  “Okay, let’s have a chat about last night. Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Teague prompted.

  His parents and the officer sat on one side of a conference table, all facing Dan. It felt like an inquisition.

  Dan told the story about his searching for Felix and finding the man with the crowbar. When he described the man pinning him to the ground, he thought his mother was going to faint. Finally, he got to the part where the cops had barged in and started accusing him of the worst.

  “The thing is, I really don’t remember sending those messages. I know they’re in my phone, I know that, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear: I didn’t write those texts.”

  His parents shared a worried look, and his father cleared his throat.

  “Officer, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” his father began gravely, “but what you have to understand is, Dan has always had, shall we say, difficulties. He came to us from the foster system after he’d already lived in a few other places. He’s been a great kid since then, I don’t want you to misunderstand me, but, well, he’s always needed a little extra attention. A few trips to a psychologist …”

  “Therapist,” his mother corrected.

  “Therapist,” his father agreed.

  The officer nodded along with the story. Dan hated talking about this stuff with his parents at all, but in the presence of someone else, a cop? It was embarrassing, frankly, and in this case, incriminating. Teague glanced at him from time to time, and he could swear he saw the officer’s jaw setting by degrees, getting stiffer as Dan’s guilt solidified in his mind.

  “His therapist tells us he has some issues with memory—”

  “Mild dissociative disorder,” Sandy cut in.

  “But that they don’t pose any problem for him having a normal, healthy life. He’s not a dangerous kid, Officer. If he sent some text message to his buddy and then forgot about it, I’m sure it was meant to be totally harmless.”

  Dan gripped the chair, struggling to look calm. How bad would it be if he blacked out right then and there?

  That unreliable memory of his … How could he tell his parents that it had gotten much, much worse, in just a matter of weeks? That maybe he wasn’t completely harmless?

  “Now Mr. and Mrs. Harold, I can’t help noticing that Dan doesn’t share your last name. Why is that?”

  His parents exchanged another look. Dan wanted to sink into the floor and die.

  “Well, Crawford is the name he came to us with,” his father said.

  “We gave him the choice, just like our social worker said we could,” his mother said defensively. “Dan had already lived with so many families by that point. I think he just wanted to keep one thing the same—one piece of himself.”

  “Hm,” Teague said. He turned to address Dan directly. “Are you aware that you have the exact same name as the last warden of Brookline asylum?”

  Dan nodded. “I read about him recently, yeah.”

  His parents, bless their hearts, said nothing. He had asked them about it on the phone, but now they kept silent, perhaps sensing, as Dan did, that Teague saw the strange connection as some sort of proof of his guilt.

  “It’s not that unusual of a last name,” his father said. “And lord knows Daniel is common enough.”

  “But what about Dan’s birth parents?” Teague asked, finally looking away from Dan. “There must be a quick way to check if there’s any relation.”

  “I’m afraid it’s anything but quick,” his mother admitted. “We don’t get to see that kind of information at all, and you’d need a court order to get it yourselves. But I can’t see why it’s so important. So what if Danny was related to this warden? What does that prove?”

  “You don’t think it’s a rather alarming coincidence?”

  “I think a coincidence is exactly what it is, and that’s my whole point,” his mother said testily.

  Dan hated to see his parents get angry, even if it was helping his case.

  “Did the …” His mouth had suddenly gone so dry it was hard to speak. “Did the guy who killed Joe ever confess?”

  Teague stared, taken aback. “Actually, no, he didn’t. He insists it was a wrong place, wrong time sort of thing. Still, he had the victim’s possessions and a murder weapon on him and he can’t explain that.” Teague snorted, giving Dan a look that said, “Lucky you.” The officer leaned an elbow on the desk between them. His brow lowered and Dan knew he should have kept his mouth shut. “Why do you ask?”

&nb
sp; “Just … curious.” Dan hoped he could keep it together for a few more minutes. He felt like if he didn’t get to the bottom of this mystery now, it would plague him for the rest of his life.

  It was Thursday. There were now ten days till the end of the program. “I want to finish out the program,” he said calmly.

  “We’re not done questioning you yet,” Teague replied, tugging his mustache. “How you answer those questions will determine whether you get to stay or not.”

  “Fair enough,” Dan said.

  His father looked ready to argue, but his mother nodded. “We’ll stay in town, Danny. Just in case.”

  Dan couldn’t fully explain why he wanted, needed, to finish this program, when there were so many reasons why he should run far, far away, as fast as he could.

  Dan ending up at Brookline this summer wasn’t a coincidence, it was a connection. And he was going to leave Brookline cured if it killed him.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  .....................................................................

  CHAPTER

  No 31

  Thankfully, although Teague grilled him for three more hours, nobody else seemed to think Dan was guilty. He had no motive to hurt Felix, no history of violence, and when the cops searched his dorm room, they found nothing of interest. Most importantly, Felix had woken up in the hospital and sworn that he didn’t think Dan was behind this.

  Dan was totally drained by the time he was allowed to go. He walked his parents to their car and declined their invitation to eat dinner with them in town. He just wanted to be back in his room already.