Page 62 of The Imaginary Friend's Obsession

“If we get out, so does he,” Ezra says. “It’s not safe.”

“And Ezra has always known this is exactly where he belongs,” Godric says, his voice full of false cheer. “He never would have worked at the MRF if he wasn’t ready to end up a prisoner there. He knew he deserved it. Isn’t that right, Ezra?”

“That’s not true!” I say. It frightens me to see that Ezra still isn’t arguing; his hand is limp in mine, and his eyes are dull, missing some vital spark. I grab him by the shoulder and shake him. “You don’t deserve this. Neither of us do. We can fight him!”

The metal table creaks and bends as one of the walls reaches it. They’re still closing in.

“He hoped he would get caught,” Godric says. There’s a screech of metal as the table gives way, and I climb onto the bed, pulling Ezra with me, because there’s no space left on the floor. The room is shrinking, walls threatening to crush us. “Especially after the terrible things he did. You don’t even know the half of it, Daisy! The things he’s seen in this place, the experiments he’s been complicit in… He’s worse than a monster. A coward, a freak, a traitor—”

“You told me that yourself,” Ezra whispers.

My chest aches. “I didn’t. That washimin my body. I would never say that, because you’re not any of those things.” I’m done talking to Godric; I whisper directly to Ezra as the room shrinks around us.

There’s not even enough space to stand on the bed. A wall presses against my back. The one behind Ezra is doing the same to him.

“You saved Dorian.” I think of that day he wroteI am like youand changed the world for me. I smile, tears blurring my vision. “You savedme.” I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him. “Before you, my only friend was the one I created for myself,” I tell him, holding him close. If we don’t make it out of here, I at least want him to understand. “I’m so grateful for you, Ezra. I’m so grateful that we met. You made me realize I’m not alone.”

The walls are on all sides now. They’re pressing in, crushing the air from my lungs as I’m shoved into Ezra’s chest. There’s a terrible weight, a bone-cracking pressure, and then—

* * *

I shudder awake on the floor of the MRF. Dorian is cradling me in his arms.

“Ezra,” I croak, and turn to see his limp body lying on the tile with blood streaming from his nose. He is completely still.

My heart lurches—but a moment later, his chest rises. Falls. Rises again. His eyes snap open and he sits up, a shaky hand pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I pushed him out,” he croaks. “Don’t let him get away.”

I scramble to my feet alongside Dorian, but there’s no sign of Godric anywhere. “He’s here? I can’t— I don’t—”

Ezra raises a hand and points. “Right there!”

I whirl around, but there’s nothing but an empty hallway. Dorian turns in a circle, eyes darting everywhere, but he seems similarly at a loss. But Ezra— Ezra is staring like he can see Godric clear as day.

I reach over, grab his hand. And suddenly I can see him too.

The demon looks a whole lot smaller outside of our heads. He’s a hunched red form, wizened and withered. Pathetic and barely a few feet tall. His black eyes widen as he sees Ezra and I staring at him. He turns to run, but I thrust out a hand.

“Stop,” I command, and he does. One leg lifted, one hand outstretched, he freezes in place, trembling with fury and fear. “Dorian,” I say, strained with the effort of holding Godric in place—but Dorian doesn’t need more encouragement than that.

He falls upon his father, his killer, the demon. All four hands grasp at him. Without a vessel or time to feed, Godric suddenly seems so small and weak. And Dorian is no longer the terrified boy he once dragged out from under the bed to kill.

“You’re too late,” Godric snarls. “I’ve already released him—”

Dorian rips him limb from limb. The demon erupts in a shriek and a spray of gore, and as Dorian lets the pieces fall to the floor, they crumble away into ash and leave nothing but dust.

Chapter Thirty

Walking Dorian back to his cell is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I cling to his hand as he steps over the threshold. He turns to face me and bends to press a chaste kiss to the back of my hand before he disappears.

“Stay right here. I’ll be back,” I promise the seemingly empty room. Then I walk away, fighting tears.

It would’ve been easy for us to escape in the chaos that happened after the fight. But Ezra and I sat side by side in the hallway, Dorian standing protectively over both of us, until the MRF’s emergency services team swarmed in. Still, none of them could actually see that Dorian was free, and they’re too busy tending their wounded and cleaning up bodies to chase after us until we’re long gone.

But Ezra once told me to have faith, and that this was about more than me and Dorian, and I’m choosing to trust him. I owe him for all that he’s done. Dorian and Ibothdo.

But as I turn to head to Dr. Wright’s office where we’re supposed to meet her to discuss all of this, I pause. The door next to Dorian’s—cell X-16—is left wide open. Fear slithers down my spine as I remember Godric’s last words.You’re too late. I’ve already released…

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