Page 65 of If Anything Happens To Me

And my heart sank. Now I recalled Fitch sitting at a table off to the side with a laptop, marking down which students had shown up. He must have found a way to look at the results of the technician’s tests, figure out which of us would be candidates for his experiments.

“But Iris and Hayley don’t even go to Black Hall High,” I said.

“Right. They were a little more challenging. See, my mom works all over the place, including Rhode Island. She has access to so many databases . . .”

“She was their doctor?” I asked.

“No, but she consults at the hospital where their pediatrician has privileges,” he said. “And it’s not hard to hack into my mom’s records. I’ve been doing it forever.” He grinned. “It’s fun.”

“What a great son you are,” I said.

“She uses the same password for everything.” He smiled. “Email, Instagram, magazine subscriptions, her patient records. It’s the name of the Greek god of medicine. Asclepius. Sometimes with a question mark at the end, if the site requires special characters. What about you, Oli? Don’t you use the same password, to make it easier to remember?”

I didn’t answer.

“Well, I do,” he said. “Mine is a little more creative than hers.Sibylline, and their initials.ADC.Athena, Daphne, and Circe. The three sisters. Because that’s what this is all about. Those ancient girls are my inspiration to find a cure for this terrible disorder.”

Why would he tell me his password? It seemed so weird. What if I decided to log into his email or social media once I got my phone back? If I ever got my phone back.

He turned and began to set the dials on the big machine. When he walked around again, I saw that he was holding two yellow plastic circles, one in each hand, with wires leading back to the controls.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Electrodes,” he said. “To measure brain activity. Ideally, you would be asleep when I run the test. That said, I would like to give you a sedative. Not an injection, Oli. Just a little pill that will put you into a dream state. Do you consent?”

“You’re actually asking me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, giving me that wide smile again.

“Then, no. I don’t consent.”

He laughed. “I knew you would say that. You’re predictable. Well, guess what? I don’t want you asleep the first time. Having you awake will establish a baseline. There will be time for dream tests. The next time, and the one after that.”

Let him think there would be a next time. Whatever it took, I was going to get out of here before that could happen.

“Lie back, Oli,” he said, giving me a tap on the shoulder.

I thought about kicking him, shoving him and running, but his words about hurting Hayley rang in my ears. If I was going to attack him, I would need the element of surprise. Just then, alone with him in a bricked-up room, my options were limited.

So I lay back, and the next part was bizarre. Here was this boy from my high school class acting like a mad doctor. It was as if he was playing the lead role in a school play about Dr. Frankenstein. And I was his subject.

He dabbed some gel on my temples. He didn’t even push my hair back; I instinctively reached up, and it felt gooey—just like the sticky stuff Iris had mentioned had been put on her head.

“Keep your hands by your sides,” he ordered.

Then he attached the electrodes. That was painless. He walked over to the machine and examined the dials. He put on ridiculous-looking goggles—orange-tinted, with a strap that went around his head. They had built-in headphones. They also had a mic, like the kind performers wear onstage.

He began talking into the mic.

“Subject is Olivia Parrish. Sixteen years of age. Pulse one hundred, blood pressure one hundred over seventy. Sister of previous subject Eloise Parrish. Both have, well, in the case of Eloise,had, blood type AB negative.”

The wordhadfelt purposeful, and I noticed how he was staring at me with a spark in his eyes, as if he wanted to upset me again. I refused to react.

Mentioning Eloise had the opposite effect than what he intended. It gave me strength. It made me summon her spirit, her goodness. Instead of making me grieve her loss, and what he had put her through, it inspired me. I looked over his shoulder and conjured her beautiful face. Her intelligence, her humor, her kind heart.

Fitch flipped a switch on the machine, and I heard a crackle, like electricity. I felt a slight sensation in my left temple, then my right. It wasn’t painful, but it was unsettling. I closed my eyes and willed the time to pass. Minutes ticked by, with pressure alternating from one side to the other, left-right-left-right, the feeling intensifying to the point it felt more like a jolt, as if he was shocking me.

That’s when I really got scared. Would this affect my brain? Could it change me, damage me for good? I kept thinking of Eloise, and I knew she didn’t want this for me. I reached up to yank the electrodes off.

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