Page 40 of Monsters Like Us
There’s one thing I’ve been intensely curious about—how she ended up at Holloway.
“Tell me, little murderess. How did you end up at Holloway?” I ask.
Her muscles tense. She tries to pull her feet away, but my toes catch them, keeping the contact between us. She avoids my eyes, looking around the concrete lab before she finally exhales and meets my stare.
“I killed my mom’s boyfriend,” she says.
I already know she killed her mom’s boyfriend when I snooped on the nurse’s computer at Holloway, but I want the rest.
“Why?” I push.
Her fingers twist together in her lap, the chains rattling. After a long pause, she whispers, “He killed my mom.”
I study the way her lashes rest against her cheeks as she stares at her lap.
“Why?”
She doesn’t say anything for a few beats. But her fidgeting increases.
“Did he try to get into your room?” I ask, leaning forward a degree.
She nods, pale as a ghost.
Rage curls my fists. I want to dig her mother’s boyfriend up and tear whatever is left ofthat man apart.
I clamp the thought down and rub my toes against hers instead. “We’re more alike than you think, Katana.”
She finally looks at me, her hazel eyes curious. “What happened to you? How did you end up at Holloway?”
The answer sits heavily inside me. I don’t want to hand it over in this room, with every shadow hiding that this lab could be bugged. So I keep my mouth closed. Not here. Not yet.
She looks disappointed as she curls back against the wall, moving her feet away from mine. The loss of contact gnaws at me, but I let her sink into it.
Waiting is part of the work.
CHAPTER 35
Micah
Hours passin silence after Corinne’s first visit with food. She doesn’t come back until much later. The hinges whine and footsteps thud down the stairs. This time, she isn’t carrying sandwiches.
Vale and Corinne stand at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us like an experiment they can’t wait to perform.
“Up,” Vale orders.
I remain sitting, staring at him defiantly. Katana follows my lead, remaining still, even though her eyes dart between me and them.
Corinne approaches Katana. Her hands are deceptively gentle as she unclasps the chain binding her wrists. She doesn’t free her—only drags her forward, guiding her like a patient. Katana fights, but the older woman is steady and practiced. It isn’t force she uses—it’s precision. A twist of the strap, a palm against the shoulder, and suddenly Katana is flat against the steel table, leather buckles cinching around her wrists and ankles.
I thrash against the chains, but they hold me back. I snarl,baring my teeth at Vale, but he just stands there, staring at me with something sinister in his eyes.
“Hold still, sweetheart,” Corinne croons, brushing hair back from Katana’s face like she’s tucking her in instead of strapping her to a metal table. “This will go easier if you don’t resist.”
Katana thrashes anyway. Her eyes find mine, begging and defying in the same breath.
I strain against the pipe until the iron cuts skin. My chains rattle and my shoulders knot from my efforts to get free, but nothing gives. Helplessness tastes like acid in my throat.
Vale circles the table, his hands clasped behind his back. “Tell me, Katana,” he says softly. “Who has been whispering in your ear? Filling your head with rebellion?” His eyes dart to me. “Is it Micah?”
