One Past Midnight by Jessica Shirvington
Yep. That’s exactly what he did.
And for my part, I stayed in place by the window. It wasn’t until the whizzing sounds stopped that I cracked open an eye to glance in his direction.
“Perhaps tomorrow we can talk,” he said, throwing the loose darts onto his chair. He smiled. “Or maybe you’d like to try your luck against me at darts.”
When I didn’t respond, he shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sabine. Ethan will be stopping by to see you this evening. Do you have any objections to him passing on his notes to me?”
Silence.
Dr. Levi clicked his pen a couple of times. “I’m sorry, Sabine, but this is one question I will need an answer to before you leave the room.”
I closed my eyes again, wanting the appointment over with. “I don’t care what he tells you,” I mumbled.
He scribbled something on the otherwise untouched page of his clipboard and opened the door. “Macie, can you please see Sabine back to her room?”
“Of course, Dr. Levi,” Macie responded, walking up to me. “Sabine, let’s go.”
I drew in one last sun-warmed breath and stood up to follow her.
As we walked down the hall, she watched me carefully, as if half-expecting me to bolt. Honestly—I considered it.
“An early lunch will be delivered to your room. Would you like to use the bathroom before you go back?” she asked in a flat tone.
I sighed, but said, “Sure.”
The bathroom reminded me of the one in our gym at school. Open shower stalls and a row of toilets. I headed straight for a toilet stall.
“You’ll need to leave the door unlocked,” Macie said, positioning herself by the sinks.
I stared at her.
“You can pull the door closed,” she explained. “But if I feel the need, I will open it at any time. Until you are off SW, no locks. It’s the rules.”
I gritted my teeth and went into the stall. It was utterly humiliating to have someone waiting right outside the door who could, at any time, decide to “open sesame.” Needless to say, I did my business quickly.
Macie walked me back to my room, returning when my lunch was delivered to watch me eat every mouthful of my sandwich. By the time she had checked the tray to make sure I hadn’t palmed the plastic wrap—probably in case I had some grand suffocation plan—I was seething. This should not have been happening to me.
“It gets easier,” Macie offered, her expression softening slightly.
I didn’t respond.
“Room checks are on the hour during the day and randomly at night,” she said as a parting comment.
Great.
Once alone, I sorted through the small bag of belongings my parents had left. I almost laughed at the clothes they’d chosen. Not a single one of my favorite minis. My old stuffed bear was in the mix, my pillow, a ten-dollar bill with a Post-it note that said “vending machine money,” and—surprise, surprise—my new notebook.
Stunned, I opened the book, not sure what to expect. It was blank. The pages I’d already written on had been ripped out. Anger reaching overload, I threw the book at the wall.
Nice one, Mom.
There was a quick rap on the door. It opened a fraction and Macie’s head popped through the gap. “All okay?”
I collected the book from the floor. “Fine. Do you have a pen?” I asked.
She paused. “No pens, but I can bring you a marker.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
When Macie returned with the marker she informed me that dinner would be at 5:30 p.m.
“What? No one eats dinner that early!” I argued. Were they kidding?
Macie just shrugged and left.
For the millionth time, I had to hold back the urge to scream. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my notebook, marker in hand. I needed to regroup. But where did I go from here? Being locked up had not been part of the plan.
Hours drifted by, but the page in front of me remained blank and my frustration only intensified.
Eventually I gave up and decided to change out of my hospital gown.
I glanced at the clothes my parents had sent and decided to stick with the outfit I’d been wearing when they brought me in. As I yanked my skirt off the top of the pile, something fell to the floor.
I crouched down and picked up my silver butterfly necklace. Hands shaking, I glanced at the door. It hadn’t been that long since the last room check, so I dared to unscrew the top.
Mouth agape, I stared at the ground-up digoxin and almost laughed. Of all the things to allow in this room with me, somehow this had slipped through. I replaced the top on the butterfly and dangled it from my hand, trying to figure out why they hadn’t confiscated it. Maybe they’d decided the dainty chain was barely strong enough to hold the butterfly, let alone cause any damage. And what could one really do to hurt themselves with a butterfly pendant?
I put the necklace around my neck, tucking it beneath my T-shirt, and finished getting dressed just before Macie came back.
“Are you ready to go to dinner?”
I nodded and followed her to the food hall, my hand going often to the butterfly beneath my shirt. Finally I felt empowered again. Finally I had the chance to follow this through—to find out one way or the other if there was a choice ahead for me.
Dinner was much like lunch, just in a large, empty cafeteria. I now understood why I was eating so early. Apparently I couldn’t be trusted in company yet. Macie told me that I would integrate over the next day or so. I could barely wait.
After forcing down a few mouthfuls of rubbery lasagna, I grabbed a banana and a carton of milk. What I really wanted was a soda, but there were only three drink options: water, milk, or orange juice.
On our way out of the cafeteria, I grabbed a bottle of water and gestured to Macie. “Can I take this back to my room?”
She nodded. “That should be fine.”
“You sure about that? I mean, I could always try to drown myself in the bottle. You know, get all Alice-in-Wonderland tiny and leap right in,” I sniped.
Macie raised an eyebrow. “Would you like me to reconsider?”
“No, I’m just helping you look at all the angles.” I smiled. It was probably stupid, since I really did want the bottle of water, but I couldn’t help myself. Luckily, Macie took the high road and ignored me.
When we got back to my room, two guys were rummaging through it. One was looking under my bed. The other was actually on a ladder, searching the ceiling cavities. I recognized the one on the ladder as Mitch, the guy I’d kicked in the nose. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed.
“You’ll have to sit in the chair until we’ve finished.”
My mouth dropped open as the other guy upended my bag and began spreading out my underwear.
“What? Why? You can’t . . .” I shot a look at Macie. “You’ve basically been with me all day! What do you expect to find?”
Macie’s face was expressionless. “Sit in the chair, Sabine. It’s protocol.”
My hand flew in the air. “You have to be kidding me. He needs a ladder to get up there, so how the hell do you think I could’ve gotten up there to hide things?”
“Sit,” she ordered.
I shot daggers at her. Macie simply returned my gaze, as if daring me to say anything else.
I stomped over to the chair, my hand wringing the bottle of water as I watched them rifle through my few measly belongings. They searched every corner, stripped my bed, overturned the mattress then inspected it for any tampering before setting it right and remaking it. Then all eyes turned to me.
“Sabine, you need to stand up now,” Mitch said. I eyed his black-and-blue nose. I’d gotten him good and it made me feel a little better. He glanced at Macie. “You’ll need to pat her down, Mace.” I noticed his tone changed considerably when he spoke to her.
Macie nodded, smiling at him before turning back to me. “It’ll only take a second. Stand with your legs apart and arms out.”
&nb
She shot Mitch a look. She seemed to see past his swollen nose to something more. Can’t imagine what; he gave me the creeps. “Then we’ll have to sedate you again. It’s for your own safety.”
Mitch looked smug. His ego was bruised and he was gunning for a second round with me. It was that, along with the fear of being put under again, that finally made me reluctantly move my feet apart, spread my arms wide, and let Macie pat me down.
Nothing.
She didn’t even spare a glance for the silver butterfly around my neck. Now I was the one hiding the smug smile. Not my fault if they’re sloppy.
Macie stepped back. “Okay, all clear, Sabine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can I use a phone?”
“Phone privileges come from Dr. Levi. You can ask him tomorrow.”
Of course they did. Even criminals were permitted one phone call.
The male nurses filed out.
“Are you locking me in?”
Macie’s sympathetic smile didn’t fool me. “No, but it’s lights out soon and you’re not permitted to leave your room without an escort. Trust me when I say it’s not worth breaking the rules. Do you understand?”
“And I thought you said things were going to get easier.” I threw her my own false smile.
“They will. You just have to work with us instead of against us. Believe it or not, we’re doing what’s best for you.”
Deflated, I sat on the edge of the bed and gnawed at my lip. “What about a clock? Is there any way to get a clock in my room?”
Macie shrugged and headed out of the room with a casual “We can look into it tomorrow.”
“What time is it?” I called out, now panicked.
“Almost seven,” she answered, and the door clicked shut.
I changed into the nightshirt my parents had packed, grateful I didn’t have to get back into a hospital gown, and lay in bed. Eventually a nurse walked through the hall calling “lights out.” Soon after, the main lights switched off and the small fluorescent bulb in the ceiling flickered on. I almost laughed. Could I seriously not be trusted to have complete darkness?
I sobered when I realized that, on this occasion, they were actually right.
As soon as the noises of the ward settled down and I was confident I’d be able to hear approaching footsteps, I slid out of bed. I figured it was about 8:00 p.m. Too early to do anything with the digoxin yet, but judging from last night’s shift change, Ethan would arrive soon and I didn’t know how much of an opportunity I would get to organize things once he did. I had to have everything ready to go.
First, I opened my bottle of water, fumbling with my infuri-ating cast, and gulped down half the bottle’s contents. Then I pulled off my butterfly necklace and tried to keep my hands steady as I unscrewed it and carefully emptied the powder into the bottle, swirling it to dissolve all of the tiny granules.
It wasn’t perfect. The drug was not designed to dissolve, and even after I replaced the lid and gave it a good shake there was still a layer of tiny white grains that settled to the bottom. But it would have to do. I got under the covers and tucked the bottle out of sight.
When I picked up the marker my hands were trembling again.
What was I thinking? Was I really going to do this?
I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair as the enormity of what was about to happen washed over me. This was crazy. But like it or not, it was my only shot. The best thing I could do for myself now was ensure I was as ready as possible. I gripped the marker and wrote one word on the strip of white cast that covered the heel of my palm.
I was putting the marker back on the nightstand when I heard footsteps. I considered drinking some of the mixture, but if my calculations were right, it was still too early. I’d have to find a chance later on. I rearranged my blankets, making sure the bottle was still well hidden, and prayed room searches were over for the night.
I could tell the minute Ethan walked in that something about him was different. Calmer. He was in jeans and a loose black shirt, his dark hair still a mess, but there was a change in the way he held himself. The tension in his shoulders and the lines around his eyes were gone.
“Do you mind if I come in?” he asked, in a way that sug-gested it was actually a question rather than a token gesture.
“Does it matter?”
“I’d prefer we started on the right foot tonight,” he said, and seemed to mean it. But I was stuck in attitude mode and
couldn’t bother to reply. He clearly took my silence for agree-ment, because after a moment he walked into the room and sat down in the armchair.
“How are your wounds? Your wrist? Are you in any pain?”
I swallowed, unsure why his husky tone affected me. “No,” I managed.
“Would you like me to re-dress them for you?”
“I get a choice this time?” I blurted.
He gave a small smile. “Yes.”
“No, then.”
He nodded and ran a hand through his messy hair.
The silence stretched and I found it hard to look in his direction. I didn’t want those eyes boring into me, trying to search out my secrets. I kept thinking about the moment I’d shifted back into my drugged body. How just before the drugs had claimed my consciousness I’d felt something, someone, squeezing my hand. Had I imagined it?
“Thanks,” I said, my voice breaking on the word.
He seemed taken aback. “For what?”
“For taking away the restraints last night.”
“Oh. How did that go for you? Midnight, I mean,” he said, inching toward me in his chair.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. I hated being played. “I know they told you, Ethan. I heard you all in here this morning.”
He shrugged. “I wondered if you were awake.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Look, you clearly don’t like me and I don’t particularly have generous thoughts toward you.”
He grinned at that, which only irritated me more.
“Let’s just cut to the chase and save ourselves all the drama. There’s nothing you can do or say that’s going to ‘fix’ me,” I added the air quotes for emphasis, “and I have nothing to say to you that you’re going to be able to get your head around. So why don’t you just fill in your charts, say whatever it is you need to say to not get in trouble, and go back to your break room or wherever it is that you would rather be.”
Ethan watched me, unperturbed. He paused as if contem-plating everything I’d just said. I braced for the comeback.
But he just stood up and said, “Okay, then,” before heading straight out the door, closing it behind him.
What?
I had so not been expecting that.
Suddenly I was alone again. I couldn’t understand why I felt so terrible. I did not care what Ethan thought of me, or about spending time with him. I definitely didn’t need to have him know the truth about my life, lives, whatever. And yet . . . I couldn’t stop watching the door, waiting to see if he would come back.
Every so often I heard him walking up and down the hall, opening and closing doors. Room checks. After it had been quiet for a while, I gave up expecting a return visit. At what I thought must be close to 11:00 p.m., I decided to drink the first half of my concoction.
I almost spat out the first mouthful. It was offensively bitter—the flavor assaulting my taste buds and making me gag. Somehow, I managed to keep that mouthful and subsequent ones down, wishing the whole time I had something to chase it with to take the edge off.
After drinking half the mixture I waited awhile to make sure it would stay down, then finished off the rest and slipped the empty bottle under my pillow. Just as I settled myself in bed again, Ethan reappeared.
“Not tired?” he asked, walking toward me.
“Waiting,” I said without thinking.
“For what?”
I shrugged. “A better life.”
He threw me an odd look.
“So what’s your deal anyway? I never see you in a uniform. Are you really a nurse, or are you a student?”
He must have seen it as an invitation because he repositioned himself in the chair. “I’m a licensed nurse and med—I was a med student. Now I work nights here.”
“To pay the bills,” I said, repeating what I’d heard him tell Mitch. He didn’t miss it and smiled. I bit down on the return smile that threatened my lips.
I guessed he must have had some big bills to pay if he’d dropped out of med school.
“Something like that.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I like it. I’m a night person. How about you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Smooth.”
He laughed and the sound filled the room. An easy, liquid sound that moved its way right through me. When he finished, he looked at me closely, tilting his head.
“You said last night that you would tell me, if I truly wanted to know.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“That was then. Things have changed.”
“Ah.”
“What does that mean?” I replied sharply.
“It sounds like you’ve given up on the world.”
I sat up a little, noticing that the lighting in the room seemed different. I crossed my arms. “Not on the world—on people. And I get that that makes me sound insane, but you have no idea what my lives have been like.”
“So tell me,” he said, not missing a beat.
“Why?” I answered softly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you prefer your other life?”
I looked at him, trying to figure out his angle.
“I guess things are pretty good there,” he went on.
“No. Actually things are hard there too.”
“Do you have a sister there as well? What’s your sister’s name here?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Maddie,” I said, unable to hold off the pang of guilt. She was hands down the best thing about this life. “And no, I have two brothers. Ryan and Lucas.”
He watched me, no doubt looking for telltale crazy signs.
I huffed. Something about this guy got under my skin. “Whatever,” I said, knowing I was on shaky ground. “All right, Ethan, get out your pen.”