Page 28 of I Will Mend You

“Sorry, little ghost,” he replies with a soft chuckle. “My knowledge is limited to what you know. You heard him say DMT, but you don’t know what it means, so I also don’t know.”

“Did he at least explain why?”

“Dolly asked him to dose you with something to give you a bad trip.”

Footsteps echo outside the room, growing louder as they reach the door. Freezing, I grip Xero’s arm. He tightens his hold around my waist.

“Whatever happens, remember that I’m here,” he says.

“What do I do?”

“Keep your eyes open, focus on survival, and don’t let them know you have me.”

The door creaks open, and the huge orderly from before steps inside. My gaze darts into the darkened hallway, and I calculate my odds of escaping.

“Don’t do it,” Xero says, his voice low.

“You haven’t eaten,” the man says.

I glance at the dog bowl across the floor, and my stomach roils at the prospect of consuming that gray, unidentifiable mush.

“It’s nausea,” I say, feigning a gag. “My stomach won’t stop heaving.”

He crouches down at my side, his gray eyes unable to meet mine. “Dolly will be displeased.”

“I’ll eat it later, when my insides have settled.”

The man’s gaze finally locks with mine, his eyes flickering with understanding. Beneath the mask obscuring the lower half of his face is the same strong jaw as Fen’s.

That comment he made about Mom being a MILF rushes back, as does Dolly’s disgusted reaction. At least that explains why she’s treated him like a scapegoat the entire day. If Fen has lost Dolly’s favor, then maybe I can take advantage.

“Don’t do it,” Xero murmurs.

“I don’t want to throw up all over this nice floor, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess,” I say, trying to sound contrite.

Fen’s gaze flickers between me and the bowl before he exhales a long sigh. Nodding, he rises and lumbers out of the room, pulling the doors shut.

“I don’t like this plan,” Xero says.

Fen’s footsteps fade down the hallway, but I wait for them to disappear before muttering under my breath, “Can you think of anything better?”

“Not until we gather more information,” he replies.

I nod. “Then this guy is our only shot.”

“Close your eyes and get some rest. You’re going to need all your strength tomorrow morning.”

The screen has stopped replaying footage of Mom’s death, leaving only a slideshow of the images like those I found on Xero’s crime board. When I glance up to find a picture of a ten-year-old version of me sitting in an ice bath, I drop my gaze to my lap and shudder.

His large hand brushes through my curls. “Go on. I’ll keep watch.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll wake you up if anyone approaches.”

Reluctantly, I lie on my side, curl up into a ball, and close my eyes, even if it’s to lose myself in the inky blackness of my mind. Anything is better than facing reality.

Xero’s larger body spoons around mine, warming my back through the straitjacket. His steady breath tickles the nape of my neck, the rise and fall of his chest a comforting rhythm against my spine.

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