Page 139 of Irreversible

Is he alive?

Where is he?

Who is he?

The detective didn’t offer much. Nothing, really. It appears the elusive man on the other side of my wall will forever remain elusive. A figment of my imagination.

That’s what I choose to believe, anyway.

The other option—the undoubtedlyworseoption—is that he never made it out of there.

Aside from asking about Isaac, the other burning question on my mind was about the babies and the faceless recipients who paid to have my eggs stolen. Unfortunately, there is no trail to follow. Everything about that black-market prison was designed to be anonymous—no records, no names, no faces. Just shadows and whispers. I’ll never know who they are, where they live, or what became of the pregnancies.

Those children could be anywhere in the world, oblivious to the horror tied to their existence. And as much as I ache for answers, I cling to one grim reassurance: they can’t find me. The anonymity that erased their origins also protects mine.

All I can do is hope they have a good life.

My eyes meet with Mom’s as I return the card to the table and swivel around. “Have you talked to Jasper?”

Humming under her breath, she pauses before answering. “Yes.”

She doesn’t elaborate.

I glance down at my own ringless hand—empty, but not because of free will, and only because it was pried off my shaking finger as I hollered and cried, while a giant man gripped me around the waist and forced me into compliance. It was stolen, likely sold.

I blink back to the hospital room and reach for the new set of clothes to change into. Moments later, I’m dressed, my hair pulled back into a slack ponytail. The jeans are loose around my waist, heavy and weighing me down. My favorite blouse itches my skin as I fiddle with the collar and release the top button so I can breathe.

A wretched thought filters through me:I miss my nightgowns.

Not knowing what that means, I clear the madness from my mind and focus on the moments ahead. I try to stay present. Grounded. Today will be a good day.

Allison joins us twenty minutes later as a female doctor with white hair rattles off instructions. She gives me a prescription for at-home antibiotics and pain relievers, then tells me to take it easy for the next week. No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity. I stare at her, nodding absently, while only comprehending every other word. I’m in a daze, a fog of unknowns.

“I bought you a new phone.” Allison holds out a cell phone after the doctor leaves, a dimpled smile brightening her eyes. “I thought you might need one.”

I gawk at it like it’s an ancient relic dug up from a burial ground. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I’m not great with the techy stuff, but I can try to help you set it up. I’ll add my number back in.”

“Perfect.” I take the phone and wrap my fingers around it. A cumbersome, foreign weight. “I’m not sure if I remember how to even use it.”

“It’ll come back to you.”

Allison and Mom chat easily beside me as I take a seat on the edge of the bed and gaze at the vase of flowers. Do I take them with me? They’re going to die soon.

Then again, everything dies eventually.

People.

Dreams.

Love.

“Everly?”

I glance at my mother with a slow blink. My thoughts are scrambled, edging toward morbid. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. This is a happy moment; the best moment. “Sorry, I’m spacey. It’s a lot to take in.”

The two women share a worried glance, and I hate it.

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