Page 59 of Glitter Rose
I miss my glitter. My blue nail polish. My penthouse with its panoramic views and freedom. Poti, Freddie, and Telly.
I miss him.
Knox.
Four months without a word. Four months wondering if he’s alive or dead. If he left me behind or came looking. If he ever really cared at all. If he ever even existed.
“Still with us, sweetheart?” Mike’s voice crawls across the room, settling on my skin like something slimy. “Looking a little pale there.”
I don’t turn my head. “Fine.”
“Sure you are.” His boots scrape against the linoleum as he shifts positions. “Been a while since your last meal, hasn’t it? Maybe you need some personal attention later.”
Min-ji’s hands pause before continuing her work.
“Shut up,” I say.
He laughs. “Gabriel says I’m supposed to keep you comfortable. I’m just checking.”
“I’d be more comfortable if you’d stop breathing.” I focus on Min-ji, desperate for any scrap of normalcy or alliance. “Have you seen my brother lately?”
She caps the second vial and reaches for a third. “Dr. Green conducted morning rounds.”
“Dr. Green.” I huff. “Is that what we’re calling himnow?”
Her face gives away nothing as she inserts another empty tube into the vacuum holder. “It’s his proper title.”
“You know he’s not actually a doctor.” Father called him intellectually deficient. “Failed too many times, and then a big sum was wired to the head of the medical board or something.”
“Your opinion on Dr. Green’s credentials is irrelevant to this procedure,” she says.
“Is it?” I glare at her. “Because I think being experimented on by a fake doctor is pretty fucking relevant to me.”
Mike pushes off from the wall. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what? You’ll tell my brother?” I roll my eyes. “He already treats me like a lab rat. Hard to go lower.”
She removes the third vial and inserts the fourth. “Almost done.”
“You know this is wrong,” I whisper, keeping my voice low, hoping that Mike can’t hear. “Whatever he’s doing with my blood, with those other people… you know it’s fucked up.”
Her hand trembles as she removes the final vial and holds a cotton ball to my inner elbow. “Pressure here.”
I grab her wrist. “Min-ji. Please.”
For one breath-stealing moment, her mask slips. Fear, disgust, resignation—they all flash across her features before she reconstructs her wall. She tugs free of my grip. “Bend your arm. Keep pressure for two minutes.”
Mike’s heavy footsteps approach. “Everything okay over here, Doc?”
“Fine.” Min-ji labels my samples. “We’re finished for today.”
“Hear that, sweetheart?” His breath hits my ear as he leans down. “All done playing doctor. Time to go back to your room.”
I hold Min-ji’s gaze as she packs away her instruments. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she says, but her eyes say something different.
They say: I’m sorry.
