Page 28 of Monsters Like Us
Marcy’s eyesare sharp as she escorts me down the corridor. She studies me, her hand hovering near my arm as if she expects me to bolt.
“You’ve been… quieter than usual,” she finally mutters, almost too casually.
My stomach knots. She suspects something. Maybe she saw the way I couldn’t sit still after the bench incident. Maybe she noticed my flushed face when I slipped back inside.
I refuse to give her anything. I’m much too nervous about where we’re headed.
The silence stretches, and she sighs, shaking her head like she’s already written me off.
By the time we reach Dr. Vale’s office, my palms are damp, my pulse beating too fast. The room smells of polish and coffee again, sterile and suffocating. Vale is already seated, a pen in hand, his smile tight and professional.
“Katana.” He gestures to the chair, flashing me a fake smile. “Come in. Have a seat.”
I lower myself onto the chair, tucking my hands into my lap so he won’t see them shake.
“We’ll continue where we left off,” he says smoothly after Marcy has shut the door. “Last time, you told me about your mother’s addiction. That was good work.”
The way he says the words makes my skin crawl. Like I’m a subject in one of his experiments, a rat pressing the right lever.
I nod, noncommittal.
Vale adjusts his reading glasses. “I want to ask you something different today. A change of angle.”
My throat tightens.He’s shifting tactics.
“Have you made any friends here at Holloway?” he asks, pen poised above the page.
The question blindsides me. My breath stutters, and I freeze. Images flash—dark eyes burning into mine, a whisper against my skin, his fingers and tongue inside me. Heat flushes up my neck before I can stop it.
Friends. Is that what Micah and I are?
I force my expression to be neutral, but Vale sees everything. His gaze sharpens like a predator catching movement in the brush.
“Well?” he presses, his voice deceptively calm.
“I… I talk to people,” I say carefully, my words as bland as the cafeteria oatmeal. “In group. At meals. Mostly small talk.”
His brow furrows. “That wasn’t my question. I asked if you’ve made any friends.”
The way he says the word “friends”sounds dangerous. I want to look away, but that would tell him too much. I fight to keep my voice even. “Not really. It’s hard, being the new girl here. Everyone has their own… cliques.”
Vale studies me too long and intently. My skin crawls under the weight of his silence. He knows I’m hiding something. Or worse—someone.
Finally, he scribbles on his pad. “Isolation isn’t healthy. You need connections if you want to heal.”
I nod like I agree, but my heart is thuddingagainst my ribs.Connections.That’s what Micah feels like— a dangerous connection, stitched into me like a scar that won’t heal.
Vale sets down his pen and leans forward. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “If youhadmade a friend, Katana… I’d want to know who. For your safety... and theirs.”
I blink at him, trying not to squirm beneath his gaze.
“Some of the patients here are… abnormal. One in particular is quite… unique.” He folds his hands, leaning closer. “Quite… monstrous.”
A chill runs through me, but I keep my voice steady. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Inside, though, I’m screaming.
If Vale suspects it’s Micah, he’ll do more than ask questions.
