Page 21 of Elas

“Thanks,” I mumble, pulling a grape from its stem and popping it into my mouth.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Another sigh pushes from my nose as I shake my head, uncharacteristically discouraged. “Not really. If I’m being honest—”

“You can always be honest with me,” Xeni interrupts, grabbing my forearm again and squeezing as I offer him a weak smile.

“I wish I could fast forward to a time when they’ve accepted me, you know? Part of me gets it, because what happened to those people was awful. But I think…” I trail off, but his thumb swipes over my wrist and encourages me to continue. “Your kind have been here for so long that sometimes you forget you were the first to attack.” His pale eyes are curious as I meet them again. “We were the victims in this, but the winners are the ones who get to rewrite history. Somehow, we’ve been turned into the villains of our own oppression.”

He gives a low, thoughtful hum as he chews on a piece of bread, giving my arm another squeeze before releasing me. “That’s an interesting perspective. You aren’t wrong.”

“Is it naïve of me to say I wish we could all just get along? Let the past be the past and work together to—”

“Mr. Beckett!”

My spine snaps straight as Chief Aeliphis barges into the room, taking up the entire space even with her small stature. “Yes, ma’am?”

“My office.”

I glance forlornly at my half-eaten lunch, but Xeni winks at me. “I’ll put it in the fridge for later.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, trailing after the chief as she power walks past the rows of exam rooms and supply closets. Finally, she turns into her office and marches around her desk, dropping into the swivelling leather seat with a heavy sigh.

“This isn’t working.”

Way to sugarcoat it.

I scrub my hands over my face for what must be the fiftieth time today, but before I can even form words, she continues. “Our turnaround time has doubled because the patients don’t trust you, so instead of helping, your presence is hurting.”

A tremor of nerves runs through me as my stomach rolls. I’m not blind to my reality here, and this little pep talk doesn’t bode well for my limited freedom. If I can’t make this work, I’ll be tossed back in that prison. And it’s selfish. It’ssodamned selfish, because the others from my camp are still there. They’re continuing to suffer, and I haven’t eventhoughtabout them in the past few days.

Maybe this is my punishment for taking more than I deserve.

“Ma’am, if I canjusthave more time, I know they’ll get used to having me here.”

“Believe it or not,” she says, her voice losing some of its authoritative edge, “I don’t blame you for this. The staff don’t have issues working with you and none of the complaints have been valid. They’ve all been based around the fact that you’re human, and the bottom line is that you are viewed as the enemy.”

“I just want to help,” I say weakly, and her lips pull tight.

“Until your presence here has become less shocking and the patients are more prepared to let you treat them, I’m pulling you from patient care.”

“Pulling me?” Panic makes my body move without my permission, and I jump from my seat to stare down at her incredulously. “I’ve done nothing wrong, you can’t—”

“Ican,and Iam. Sit down, Mr. Beckett.” She enunciates every word as I take a few more deep breaths and drop into the chair again. After a few tense moments of staring at one another, her thin eyebrow arches. “I didn’t take you for the hotheaded type.”

“I’m not.” This time, both her brows fly up, and a touch of embarrassment burns my cheeks. “Not usually, in any case.”

She waits as I draw in a deep breath, steadying my rare show of temper. “While everyone is getting used to your presence here, I’m moving you to the records room. It’s been several years since we’ve had an attendant in there, and the files have gotten admittedly chaotic.”

Disappointment churns in my gut as I bite my lips between my teeth. Despite Chief Aeliphis saying otherwise, it feels like a slight—another intentional insult. After all, everyone has already admitted they’re shorthanded in the clinic, and they’re sticking me in a room to organize files?

The alternative is much bleaker, though, so I accept my fate with a forced smile. “That sounds great,” I say, not meaning it in the least. The chief watches me for a pause before nodding.

“Come along, then. Let’s get your keycard updated and I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”

Dust scatters as I slide open a filing cabinet, forming a gritty, musty cloud of air that attacks my nose. I push my pointer finger against my nostrils and fight the itch, but end up pulling my shirt over my face as an explosive sneeze breaks free.

My eyes are red and itchy from the few hours spent in this mildewy room, and the mess is astounding. Chief Aeliphis said the files hadn’t been managed for years, but the level of disorganization still took me by surprise. Paperwork is shoved onto random shelves and crammed inside drawers they don’t belong in. The most common practice, though, is tossing them wherever you can find space and praying for the best.

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