Page 40 of Ward D
Her eyes darken slightly. “Yes, like him.” At those words, she sneaks a look down the hallway, in the direction of the seclusion room. The first room is still shut tight. “But that’s an exception. Generally, I just pass out the meds and that’s about it.” She holds up her magazine. “Then I get to read all night.”
I glance up at the rack of charts. “Well, I don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to do a quick write-up on my patients that I saw tonight.”
“No bother.” Ramona gets out of her seat and pulls a chart out of the rack, then places it down in front of me. “You’ll be keeping me company.”
“Thanks,” I say.
I sit down on one of the rolly chairs and pull the chart closer to me. That’s when I realize she didn’t pull Mary’s chart from the rack. She saw me in Jade’s room, so that’s the chart she pulled for me. Jade’s chart is sitting right in front of me.
It’s not a thick chart, which I wouldn’t expect. I don’t think she’s been here very long. And most of her notes are probably on the computer, which I can’t access right now thanks to the maintenance being done tonight. But at the very least, her emergency room note will be in the chart. It will have her past psychiatric history and her reason for admission.
It would be so easy to look.
I place my hand on the cover of the chart. I grab the plastic cover, wondering if I should go ahead and open it. If roles were reversed, Jade would definitely look at my chart. And she wouldn’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it.
I’ll just take a quick peek. That’s all.
I flip the cover open, but before I can even read the first sentence, the lights overhead flicker and go out.
“What the hell?” Ramona says.
The power must have gone out. It’s pitch dark in here—I can’t see so much as my hand in front of my face. Ramona is swearing under her breath, and I hear a chair topple to the floor. She can’t see much either, obviously.
Oh my God. If the power went out, does that mean the locks on the doors stopped functioning?
Including the seclusion room?
“Ramona?” I call out.
“I’m here.” I turn my head in the direction of her voice, but I can’t see a thing. “Don’t worry. I don’t know why the power went out, but there’s a generator. We should be okay.”
“Ramona,” I say urgently, “if the lights are out, does that mean the locks on the doors don’t work anymore?”
She’s quiet for long enough that I’m starting to worry she’s not there anymore. “I don’t know,” she finally says.
Oh no.
But before I can panic too much, the lights flicker back on. I let out a sigh of relief that I’m not going to have to spend the rest of the night in pitch blackness. But before I have a chance to celebrate the return of the lights, a man stumbles in the direction of the nurses’ station. It’s Miguel, except he’s not wearing four shirts anymore. In fact, he’s not wearing any clothing at all.
And he’s covered in blood.
22
EIGHT YEARS EARLIER
Jade stormed off after I refused to even take a look at the exam. But there was no way I was going to cheat. I would rather fail.
And unfortunately, that will be the alternative. I have no chance of passing this exam anymore.
Of course, I’m not sure if the exam is the worst of my problems right now. Even if I fail the midterm, if my parents get me a tutor, I could still potentially turn things around. What is less simple to resolve is the fact that I keep seeing a little blond girl who is not actually there.
What is wrong with me? Have I completely lost my mind? I must have. Sane people don’t see little girls who aren’t really there.
But I don’tfeelcrazy.
These thoughts are swirling through my head as I try to enjoy dinner with my family. My father is talking to my little brother, Trevor, about his upcoming baseball game. They are dominating the dinner conversation, and that’s fine with me. I keep picking at my food, building a little mashed potato castle on my plate. I have eaten about three bites while we’ve been sitting here. I have no appetite.
“Amy.” Mom flashes me a sharp look. “Will you please stop playing with your food? You’re not a child anymore.”
