Page 131 of Retribution
This can't be happening. I can't be at The Heath.
I stare at the Blank, whose name I’ve forgotten, dumbly, but my legs, clad in the gray trousers that I lived in for a decade, slide to the floor almost automatically.
The Blank nods and leaves my room, satisfied thatI'm up.
My mind is stuttering, unable to comprehend what is happening. I was just at the club, wasn’t I?
I remember Joe collapsing, and then I left the room and I went down to the dancefloor. The lights were too bright. The music, too loud. And then there’s nothing after that.
I stand on unsteady legs, feeling sick and groggy. What is happening? How did I get here? This has to be a dream. A nightmare.
I can't be here. I must be somewhere else. I need to wake up. I pinch myself hard. Nothing happens.
I put on the slippers that are beside my bed absently, and I walk slowly from my room in a daze.
I go down the hall, past residents I know. They look at me and I stare back at them as I pass.
None of them speak.
I continue down the corridor, past the Blank’s break room to Stoke’s office.
I don't really know why I’ve made my way here, or what I expect him to tell me, but I need to knowsomething. I raise my hand to knock, but the door is already opening.
'Marguerite.'
I blink at the man in front of me, knowing he's familiar, but I can't seem to put two and two together at first.
It's because he's out of context. I realize I've never seen him here before.
‘Joseph Banderville?’
‘No, Miss Novelle. Don’t you recognize me? I’ve been treating you here at The Heath for the past ten years. I’m Doctor Lansdon.’
He looks over his shoulder, speaking to someone. ‘She appears to still be suffering from the same psychosis. She’s been confused like this since early September.’
