Page 103 of Irreversible

Seconds later, the same man is standing between the television and my chair, blocking my view. I didn’t even noticehim enter the cage. “Oh, look at that. Perfect timing.” He picks up the remote.

My heart is a swollen, throbbing weight in my chest. “Wait,” I mumble, barely comprehending who I’m talking to. “I’m not finished.”

He aims the remote at the screen like a loaded weapon. “Oh, but I’m afraidsheis.”

But his goading can’t shake me, because at that moment, Sara turns and looks straight at the camera.

As if she knew, one day, I would be watching.

That’s why, as I’m dragged away, I take one last look at her face.

I smile.

And I swear she smiles back.

25

Dark thoughts ooze through me like sticky black tar.

Day two brings with it another round of antibiotics, daily meals by a no-name musclehead I’ve dubbed Roger II, and a sense of detachment that has been festering to a boiling point.

My ankle chain rattles as I shift in place, leaning against the wall and missing his voice. All my tears have dried up, my throat raw from pain-laden screams.

I’ve become a liability. No freedom, no perks. I’m shackled now by silver manacles—an irony, considering I’ve been bound to this wall since the day Isaac first appeared on the other side.

Tethered to him.

Chained to the hope he brought with him.

Sighing, I rest my head back and close my eyes, rolling the smooth blue guitar pick between my thumb and finger. A small comfort. The scent of bacon and eggs makes my stomach curdle. I haven’t eaten, which has only caused the antibiotics to sit in the pit of my stomach like toxic bricks. I’m nauseous, tired, and done. I don’t want to do this anymore.

I can’t.

My eyelids squeeze tighter when the keypad on my door chimes to life, those evasive numbers forever haunting me. Isaac was so close.

He returned for me…and I failed him.

When the door pushes open, I make a hasty decision and shove the guitar pick into my knotted mound of hair, securing it between the mats.

It’s probably pointless.

But if there’s even thesmallest chancewe both make it out of here alive…

“Rise and shine.” The Timekeeper traipses into my room, latching the door behind him. He fiddles with the cufflink of his silver-sequined sleeve, his tone sickeningly cheerful.

I smooth down my hair and glare at him with deadened eyes. “Kill me.”

“Well, you’re extra chipper this morning. Must be the eggs. There’s a touch of goat cheese.” He mimics a chef’s kiss.

I kick the plate of breakfast with my heel, and the eggs and bacon go flying. “Kill me,” I repeat, my expression a mask of indifference. “I know you want to.”

“Do I?” He clasps his hands behind his back and paces in front of me, his glossy black shoes scuffing across the floor. “Interesting fact about me: if you beg me for something, I’ll be inclined to do the exact opposite. And I’ll do it the most extravagant way possible.” He hums through a chuckle. “It’s always been a quirk of mine.”

Just as I’d hoped.

I pull to a stand, my chains clattering.

My throat thickens with bitterness, pulse revving with rage.

---