The days in the asylum had been passing more slowly than the nights. Maybe that was because Ada could watch the sunlight trace its way along the tiled floor, creeping in excruciating inches until breakfast, and then surging to a blinding line of gold at lunch. After that, it disappeared in degrees, replaced by the umber of sunset, then the deep blue of twilight. Ada had been there only two weeks, but she already knew its every station.
Tonight, when the blue finally gave way to black, she did not move to the straw-stuffed mattress across the room. She stayed where she was, her back pressed against the unyielding corner. She had tried to sleep in the bed the first night, but the inmate in the adjacent room had wept without ceasing, her wails vibrating through the wall.
The last Ada had heard from the woman on the other side was days ago. She’d screamed when they’d come for her. Ada told herself they had taken her to the infirmary wing. It was a lie, but a comforting one at least. Other than giving the nurses and doctors hell, there was no real comfort to be had in this place.
Her muscles and bones ached from her confinement, but she still did not move. If they were coming for her, she wanted to be awake. She wanted to fight back. The asylum was full of people just like her, but she still felt terribly alone.
Until today.
From outside the cell came the sound of a key sliding into the lock, jolting with force, and then the door swung open. Silhouetted by the light from the corridor, Nurse Salem leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smile visible even in shadow.
“Well?” said Corinne. “Are you coming?”
Ada climbed to her feet. Blood rushed to her head, and the aching of her body retreated to the back of her mind.
“Two weeks?” she asked, joining Corinne in the corridor. “My grandmother could have planned a faster rescue than this.”
“I was going for a slow build to a grand finale. Like an opera.”
“You’ve never been to an opera in your life,” Ada whispered as they made their way briskly toward the stairs.
“Sure I have. I had two whole weeks of leisure while I was waiting for the suspense to build. Learned embroidery too.”
At any other time, the image of Corinne trying to thread a needle would have sent Ada into fits of laughter, but tonight she could feel the walls of Haversham crowding around her. She tried to shake herself free, but some part of her was still back in that cell, watching the darkness slither in. They descended the stairs two at a time. Corinne’s shoes clattered on the polished wood, while the cotton slippers they had given Ada were silent. The door in the stairwell led to another corridor on the ground level, and they crept through it.
Considering the costume and the fact that Corinne had been making rounds as a bona fide nurse that day, Ada supposed there was some kind of plan in place. Of course, there was always the possibility that Corinne had concocted an elaborate scheme to get in but hadn’t bothered with an escape route, in hopes that things would sort themselves out. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Ada jumped at a sound behind them, fighting the flurry of fear in her gut. There was nothing there. Corinne gave her a strange look, but as she opened her mouth to speak, there was a commotion around the corner, where the main entrance was. Doors were banging and feet were shuffling and a man was screaming. Another man snapped something to a nurse about a sedative. More scuffling. Then quiet.
Before Ada could grab her, Corinne edged along the wall until she could peek around the corner. After a few seconds of listening to the muffled voices, Ada joined her.
Two men in dark suits gripped a limp, ragged man between them. Their hats were pulled low over their features, but Ada could see that they were both unconcerned by the unconscious weight they held. One of them made a joke about the weather while the nurse on duty whispered nervously into her desk phone. The other one laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound.
Ada shivered and pulled Corinne back before they could be seen. It was clear enough that they were HPA.
“Dr. Knox wants to know if you have any paperwork on him,” the nurse was asking.
“Miss, I know you’re doing your job, but this slagger is getting heavy. Tell Knox it’s another one for the basement.”
The nurse relayed the information in a murmur; then there was the click of the receiver.
“Use the back stairs,” she said.
There was more grunting and slamming of doors. Corinne yanked on Ada’s sleeve and whispered in her ear. “What’s in the basement?”
Ada shrugged, but she was thinking about the inmate in the next cell over. The one they had come for late in the night.
Corinne shook her head and pulled a brass pocket watch from her uniform. The familiar sight was comforting. In four years, Ada had never seen Corinne without that watch.