Page 40 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

Despite his words, he doesn’t look convinced. “Then…?”

“I don’t know what they want, but I’m sure it’s no big deal. Just…wait here for me.” He gestures with one hand, a calming motion. “I should be back in about an hour.”

“Okay,” I say, my stomach coiled in knots.

As he turns to walk out the door, I act on instinct. My hand juts out at my side, and Ipull.

When the door clicks shut behind Ezra, I’m left alone in the observation room with his MRF ID clutched in my palm. My heart is pounding, and I’m sure he’ll check his pocket and realize that it’s empty…but a minute ticks by, and nothing happens.

I glance at the camera to verify that it’s still shut off, and clutch the card hard enough that the plastic bends. This is risky. And wrong. I’m betraying Ezra’s trust, and I could get him in trouble with his superiors, but I can’t shake the worry that he’salreadyin trouble, despite his denials. Maybe his superiors are already onto us, and maybe they’re not. Either way, this may be my only chance to see Dorian face-to-face unsupervised.

But as I step outside, I come to a stop, my eyes finding the camera in the corner of the hallway. I’m sure there’s another one in his cell. Am I willing to risk everything to see him? This could be my last chance.

What if I ruin any shot at Dorian being released from this place?

While I’m still standing, torn by indecision, footsteps approach.

“Gwen?”

I turn to see Ezra’s friend, Mara, approaching with concern etched on her face. I shove Ezra’s keycard into my pocket.

“Is everything all right?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, but my voice cracks and my eyes well with tears before I can stop it. I’m so tired of keeping everything inside, pretending everything is okay. But it’s humiliating to break down like this in front of a near stranger. “Well, no. I-I…” I stare hopelessly at the doorway to Dorian’s cell, the keycard burning a hole in my pocket. I’m so close to him, closer than I’ve ever been, but still not close enough.

Mara follows my gaze to the door, and her expression turns sympathetic. “I see,” she murmurs. “Believe it or not, I may know how you feel.”

“Did Ezra tell you about what we’re doing?” I ask, hope and dread waging war in my churning stomach.

“He didn’t tell me much about you. But he told me about Dorian. I said I’d help if I could.”

“Then help me,” I burst out before I can second-guess myself. “I need to see him. Privately.”

Mara hesitates. “I…might be able to help with that, but…”

“Please,” I beg.

She glances up and down the hallway, wets her lips. “Okay,” she says. “I can get you a few minutes.” She moves her hands in sudden, rapid hand movements I recognize as sign language but can’t understand. Then my attention snags on her shadow cast on the wall behind her. It’s moving, too—but I swear the motions are delayed, anddifferent, than what she’s doing with her hand.

As soon as I blink, it’s back to normal, and I’m not sure if I imagined the whole thing.

“Wait two minutes,” Mara says. “Then do what you need to do.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome.” Her lips twinge. “Daisy.”

* * *

Two minutes later, I hold my breath as I swipe Ezra’s keycard—and the door opens with a beep. My heart hammers in my ears as I step through.

But the second door holds firm when I tug on the handle. There’s no keypad here, nothing but a blank metal door. My heart stops—but I remember watching Ezra come through here, and thinking it was like an airlock. When I shut the external door behind me, the inner one clicks open.

Then there is nothing stopping me from stepping into Dorian’s cell.

I turn in a circle, taking in the entire room. I’m struck again by how tiny it is. I closed the shutters and turned off the viewing window’s opacity before leaving the observation room so even that is gone, leaving what appears to be a normal mirror.

And Dorian is nowhere to be found. Avoiding me even now.

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