FORTY-FOUR
THE DOOR TO this bizarre television recreational room opens and a guard steps in. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the television, trying to mimic the others. My heart is pounding from the effort of climbing up onto the spare armchair, the sweat rolls from my temple and down my back, I’m not sure if I imagine it, but I think I feel it drip past my waist, tickling. Is the injection wearing off? I can’t test my legs to see, but I feel the beginning of pins and needles in my thighs. I’m out of breath from the effort it took to sit here and I hope they can’t see my chest heaving up and down beneath the red gown. I try to control my breathing and what I imagine is the wild look in my eyes, a stark contrast to the others, who are like couch potato zombies. What has Crevan done to them? How long have they been here, and what does he intend to do with them?
The guard gasps suddenly, perhaps seeing me, and she runs from the room.
“Stacey!” she calls down the corridor, keeping the door open with her body so that I still can’t move.
I quickly take a risk and wipe the rolling sweat from my brow, that single movement a danger. She returns with another guard. They’re whispering, heads close together.
“That’s her. Celestine North.”
“It’s not her, Linda,” Stacey says.
They come close to me, and I try to keep staring straight ahead as if I don’t notice them.
“She’s so young.”
“She’s prettier in person.”
“Probably lost weight, on the run.”
“The fugitive diet. I could do with a bit of that.”
One snorts and they laugh, then quickly shush themselves.
“I knew Tina was hiding someone in that room. And the arrival of that uppity doctor. And having to read through all those rules. I wonder what they’re up to.”
“Not our job to know or ask.”
“Take a photo of me with her, will you?”
“Stacey!”
“What? Just for me. No one will know.”
They giggle as Stacey fluffs her hair and crouches down beside me, arm across my shoulder as if we’re best friends on a night out.
Linda holds the phone up in front of us; I can feel Stacey’s breath on my skin, can smell her sweet perfume. I try to focus on the television, but …
“One, two, three … Goodness!” Linda says, taking a step back.
“What?” Stacey jumps away from me as though I’m a bomb about to explode.
“She looked at me.”
“She can’t have,” Stacey says. “They’ve enough drugs in them to last them a week. Look at her, from the TV.” She clicks her fingers in front of Pia’s face. “Pia Wang reporting live,” she imitates. “Not so peachy perfect now, is she?” She chuckles.
Linda isn’t quite so sure. I scared her, and I’m quite enjoying the power.
There are voices in the corridor. Official-sounding, lots of boots on the ground. Another gang of Whistleblowers. They arrive at the door, push it open. Five of them appear. All wearing helmets. Two guard the door; three come inside.
My time is up, they’ve noticed I’m missing.
They file into the room and one lifts her helmet. It’s Kate. I try not to react.
“We’re here under order of Highland Castle. I have a document for Celestine North’s custody officer.” Kate looks from one woman to the other.
“That’s Tina,” Stacey says quickly, eager to get out of there, after their unprofessional acts with me only moments ago. “I’ll get her.”
Linda clears her throat nervously. “I’ll come, too.”
Kate follows them. As soon as the three have left the room, the second Whistleblower lifts his helmet and I see Carrick. My stomach leaps. Then the last Whistleblower reveals herself. Juniper.
I gasp.
“Rescue squad is here,” Juniper says, jumping into action. “We have to be fast. If anyone contacts the castle we’ll be in trouble. Quickly, put this uniform on.” She starts to strip off.
Carrick looks away.
“Juniper! What the hell are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking your place.”
“What? You—”
“No time to talk,” she says urgently. “I’m doing this, no discussion. You disagree, you get us all into trouble. Stick to the plan.”
I can’t believe it. I can’t let this happen. I can’t abandon my sister in this place, not with what they’re about to do to me in the operating room.
“I’ll delay them. It will give you time to do what you have to do. Stand up. Take off the gown,” she says, annoyed now.
“I can’t!” I say.
“Of course you can!” She raises her voice.
“Shh!” Carrick says.
“No, I mean, I physically can’t. Crevan injected me with something. I can’t move my legs.”
They both look at me then, and I see the fear in their eyes. The plan must be abandoned. How can we all walk out of here if I can’t walk?
FORTY-FIVE
“WE’LL CARRY YOU OUT,” Carrick says. “Keep going.”
“Carrick, don’t be stupid, they’ll ask questions. It won’t work,” I argue.
Juniper lifts the gown over my head.
“Please don’t do this, Juniper.”
“Stop, Celestine,” she snaps, annoyed. “It’s the only way.”
“But Mom and Dad will never forgive me.”
“It was Mom’s idea. She would have taken your place herself if she could.”
Juniper removes her clothes and helps me dress. I can put the jacket on, as I can control my upper body, but the combat pants are awkward because I can’t lift myself. Carrick rushes over to help. I think of yesterday, when his eyes and hands were on my body. Perhaps he’s thinking the same thing because our eyes meet. Green eyes, hazel flecks. He didn’t abandon me after all. Juniper looks from him to me, then smiles happily, and I know she knows about us. They slide the red combat trousers over my legs, the boots on my feet, no time for socks.
The pins and needles are spreading down to my knee.
I see the F brands on Juniper’s temple and palm.
“Mom did it,” Juniper says, out of breath, nervously as she moves. Then she looks at me softly. “All six of them.”
She knows; it’s the first time we’ve ever discussed the six brands.
Trust Mom and her makeup skills to pull off such authentic scars. As a famous model, Mom has been exposed to the best makeup artists, particularly for her wilder shoots. She’s managed to make Juniper’s brands look authentic, bubbling wounds newly scabbed over.
Carrick pulls me up, but I can’t stand on my own. I’m numb from the knees down now.
Juniper sees Gavin, Logan, Natasha, and Colleen in the front row. “Good,” she says, a hardness in her eyes.
“Thank you,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her.