Page 17 of The Lost Girls of Willowbrook

“I’ll take it from here,” Leonard shouted at Dale. “Go back to administration and find out where they want you next.”

“Are you sure?” Dale said.

Leonard nodded. “This ain’t my first rodeo, kid.”

With a sigh of relief, Dale let go of Sage and hurried out of Ward D. Leonard locked the door behind him, then took Sage by the arm again and led her toward the beds. She dug in her heels, refusing to let him take her in any farther.

“I don’t belong here,” she said. “This isn’t right. You can’t do this to me!”

“Of course it’s right,” he said. He pointed toward the far end of the room. “That’s your bed right over there. Now get moving.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not. That’s my sister’s bed! I’ve never been here before in my life. I’m not Rosemary!”

He gave her a hard shake, wrenching her arm and making her teeth rattle. “Do you want to go back in the pit again? Because that’s where they’re gonna put you if you don’t start behaving.”

The naked girl screamed again, louder and higher than Sage thought humanly possible. To her surprise, Leonard turned and watched, waiting to see what was going to happen next. The attendants had cornered the girl behind a chair. She gaped at her pursuers like a caged animal, her breath shallow and quick, her bloodshot eyes darting around the room. The tattooed attendant held out his muscular arms and rocked side to side like a wrestler ready to attack, laughing as if it was a game. The girl lifted the chair above her head, her wiry arms straining with the effort, and smashed it against the floor. The wooden back split in two, cracking like bone. One of the legs broke off and spun across the tiled floor.

“It’s okay, Norma,” the female attendant said. “Just calm down. We want to help you.”

Norma.Why did that name seem important? Then Sage remembered.Oh shit.Dr. Baldwin had said Norma was Rosemary’s best friend and the girl she called her sister. But that didn’t mean it wasthisNorma, did it?

Norma growled and grunted as she ripped off the back of the chair with her bare hands. Splinters pierced her skin, and one particularly jagged piece of wood stabbed her wrist and tore her flesh. Blood dripped from her wrist onto her thighs and feet. She stomped on the chair until its remaining legs broke off, then picked up the pieces, hurled them at the attendants, and bolted toward the door. Dodging the projectiles, the tattooed attendant raced after her. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her by the arm and twisted it behind her back, grimacing with the effort, then gripped her other arm and did the same. Norma screamed again, over and over and over. The female attendant hurried over and slapped her hard across the face. Norma went silent, hung her head, and slumped toward the floor. The tattooed attendant lifted her up and carried her to a bed, the blood from her wrist leaving a red trail. As soon as he set her on the mattress, she tried to escape again, but the female attendant sat on her stomach while the tattooed attendant held her arms.

“Norma, Norma,” the female attendant said, shaking her head, her frizzy Afro shaking too. “What are you doing? You finally get to come back to the ward and this is how you act?”

Norma glared up at her, panting through clenched teeth.

“Do you want to sleep in here again?” the female attendant said. “Or do you want to be punished?”

Norma shook her head. “Not punished,” she said. “No, no.”

“Are you going to behave?” the tattooed attendant said.

Finally, Norma nodded and gave in. She turned her head to one side and closed her eyes, her arms and legs going slack. The female attendant stood, and the tattooed attendant slowly let go and stepped back. They both wiped their sweat-slicked faces, then just stood there for a moment, trying to catch their breath.

“Get some bandages,” the female attendant finally said. “We can’t have her bleeding all over the place.”

The tattooed attendant nodded and started across the ward in Sage’s direction, trudging toward the door like a massive robot. The girls and women in his path shrank away—those who noticed him, at least.

When the coast was finally clear, Leonard pushed Sage toward Rosemary’s bed, dodging wayward arms and legs and sidestepping dark puddles. When the tattooed attendant was about three beds away, Leonard shouted over to him.

“Hey, Wayne! Look who we found.”

Wayne?Sage startled, surprised to hear the name so soon.

Wayne looked over and wrinkled his forehead. “Where was she this time?”

“Damned if I know,” Leonard said. “Vic and I figured you could tell us.”

“Yeah, right,” Wayne said, giving him a dirty look. “You two need to stop with your fucking gossip. You’re worse than a couple of old ladies.” He picked a girl off the floor and tossed her on a bed, then continued toward the exit.

Sage dropped her gaze, afraid to look him in the eye. Just what she needed—the one person who might know something about her sister, and he looked like he could rip someone’s head off. When he was out of earshot, she said to Leonard, “Why do you think he knows where Rosemary is?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Leonard said. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t. I swear. I have no idea.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” He continued herding her down the aisle between the rows of iron beds, past the growing puddle of Norma’s blood. The female attendant with the frizzy Afro was sitting on the mattress next to Norma, holding her wrist and pulling splinters out of her hands.

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