He was dangling from a noose. Sweat bubbled at his brow line. Fury raged in his eyes.
“W-W-What question…?” I stuttered. My fingers worked in the swatch of blanket.
My gaze skirted the strange factorylike place in which I found myself. I whimpered at the sound of soft moaning coming from a distance.
The contents of my stomach surged up my windpipe, choking me before I vomited.
“What’s going on?” I pointed to Tate.
He gurgled. Tears were leaking from his eyes. “You … are … insane.” His cheeks puffed out and sucked back in. “You know that?”
I felt my lower lip begin to tremble. I covered my mouth. “I—I tried to warn you.”
Tate struggled to keep his feet underneath him. “Warn me? What kind … of warning was … that? You said nothing.” His words were a growl. “Nothing!”
“I—I—I—you didn’t even see me!” I shrieked. Hair flew in my eyes. I peeled it off. “You didn’t know who I was!”
He sees you now.
I felt feverish. “Please…” I pushed my palm against my forehead. “I didn’t want this.”
You wanted all of it.
“I just need to think.” Coward. I shook my head.
Kill them. End it.
“No!” I shouted.
“You will pay for this. You hear me? My father is a congressman.”
This is what you want. Justice. Make him pay.
I plugged my ears. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!”
They’ve ruined your life.
I screamed. “You’re ruining my life!”
The Taser gun was a dead weight in my hand. All around me was terror. “This isn’t me,” I muttered. “This isn’t me.” This is you. This is us. We are. “No, no, no, I’m good.”
Kill them. Do it.
She was taking over, strangling the Cassidy out of me like a boa constrictor. I took a final look around the horror she’d created. I couldn’t fight evil with evil without being consumed in the flames. There was only one way to stop her. I pulled out the cell phone in my back pocket—Disgusting, weak, spineless, he laughed at you—and hit three numbers.
I had to if I wanted to preserve anything of myself. Time seemed to freeze over. When I could no longer convince the demented alternate being that was living inside me to stand still, I turned the Taser on myself, pressed it against my thigh, and pulled the trigger.
I collapsed to the floor and writhed there. The wait for sirens to approach stretched infinitely long until suddenly the blare of them was roaring in my head and panic warred in my chest.
It’s too late.
Too … late.
The voice said.
TWENTY-FOUR
White walls. White mattress. No sheets.
White elastic pants. No drawstring. White cloth shirt. Scratchy.
A metal door. Glass, submarine window set into the thick door. An untouched tray. On it, a whole apple and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that had been sitting out since last night.
I wasn’t allowed shoes … or socks. My toes were cold enough to be miserable but not cold enough to feel numb. I sat on the squeaky mattress that felt like it was made from flimsy foam poster board and tucked my feet underneath my knees. My back pressed into the bare cinder blocks behind me. I didn’t know what time it was. There were no windows to the outside and I’d lost track … hours, days, weeks ago?
Down the hall there were clangs of doors and the uneven roll of wheels down tiled floors. I estimated that it was morning and didn’t think I’d slept at all.
If I was right, my breakfast would arrive soon. Three strips of bacon, dry toast with a fried egg served on top. Since I’d left my dinner untouched, they’d make me eat it. Hold my mouth open. Force me to swallow.
They’d be here soon. They were coming for me.
Two knocks sounded at the door. Never three. Why not three? Two was unnatural.
“Go away,” I said. “I’m not hungry.” I pulled my knees into my chest and buried my face in them. Stringy hair fell in straight curtains around me. I didn’t know how much weight I’d lost since I’d been in here, but my ribs poked through the skin on my torso.
A lock slid. I felt the cool manufactured air flow into the room without looking. “Cassidy?” The woman’s voice was melodic. “Cassidy, your parents are here to visit.”
I pulled my knees tighter and rocked.
“Cassidy, we’re going to take you to see them. Okay? They’re very much looking forward to it. We’re coming in now.”
I drew my chin out of the hollow between my knees and forearms. Dr. Blanche was a slender woman with a slick ponytail parted down the middle and red-framed glasses. She took out a pen from her lab coat and jotted something down on my chart.
An orderly filtered past her, pushing a wheelchair.
“I can walk,” I said to the man whose hand was stretched out to help me into the chair.
“Standard procedure, miss.”
I rolled my eyes and scooted off the mattress without taking his hand. I planted myself roughly in the leather sling of the wheelchair and lifted my feet onto the stirrups.