Time had passed, things had happened, but nothing ever changed.
No one listened. No one believed. No one cared. No one could be counted on. No one anywhere, ever.
“It’s true!” she screamed in a rush of uncontainable frustration, and suddenly she was beating her fists on the glass and weeping. “It’s true, why won’t anybody help me, what’s wrong with all you people, what’s the matter with you?”
“That’s enough!”
Nurse Cunningham barked the command, startling Kaylie into stillness.
“Now,” the nurse added more gently, “just get hold of yourself. I know what the problem is, and I’ve taken steps to fix it.”
Kaylie heard this without comprehension. “Steps?” she echoed blankly.
“It’s the medicine you’re taking. It doesn’t seem to work at this dosage. But I’ve spoken with Dr. Cray, and he’s agreed to consider lowering the dose, starting tomorrow. That should help you, Kaylie. If it doesn’t, we’ll try something else.”
Kaylie lowered her head, worn out. “He was lying,” she said softly, no longer caring if the nurse could hear. “He knows I’ll be dead tomorrow.”
“You won’t be dead, Kaylie. You’re just imagining things, that’s all.”
“Don’t let him in my room.”
“Kaylie—”
“That’s all I’m asking.” She looked through the window again, trying one last time to reach the nurse. “Just for tonight. Don’t let him in my room.”
“There’s no reason Dr. Cray would be visiting your room tonight.”
“But if he shows up — don’t let him see me.”
“He won’t show up.”
“Don’t let him see me.”
The nurse looked away, fatigue written in the puffy flesh under her eyes, the slack muscles of her face. “Dr. Cray is the director of the institute,” she answered tonelessly. “If he needs to see you, Kaylie, of course I have to let him.”
No hope then.
No chance.
Told you, Justin chortled, but Kaylie barely heard.
“All right,” she mumbled, surrendering.
“I have to check on another patient. Okay?”
“Go ahead.” The nurse began to move away, when Kaylie added for no reason, “After I’m dead, you’ll know he did it.”
Nurse Cunningham frowned sadly. “Kaylie, don’t think that way. It doesn’t help you to get better.”
“After I’m dead,” Kaylie repeated stubbornly, “you’ll know. He did it. Remember that. Will you remember that, at least?”
“Dr. Cray would never hurt you, Kaylie. He would never hurt anyone.”
Kaylie sagged. She pressed her face against the glass, feeling its cold kiss.
“You bitch,” she whispered. “Stupid, stupid bitch.”
“I’m sorry,” Nurse Cunningham said from what seemed like a great distance.
Kaylie didn’t respond.
“Your dinner will be here shortly,” the nurse added, as if this would make everything better.
“Don’t want dinner.”
“You need to eat. You had no breakfast, no lunch.”
“Not hungry,” she said, though she was.
“I hate to see you starve yourself, Kaylie.”
Cray was going to kill her, win his final victory, and all this prattling idiot could think about was food.
Last meal for the condemned, Justin said.
Don’t turn it down, Anson advised. If you’re not hungry, girl — we are.
Laughter from them both.
“Shut up,” she said weakly.
The nurse assumed the comment was aimed at her. “Fine, then,” she said stiffly. “If that’s the way you want to be, we won’t bring you any dinner. You’ll be ready to eat by morning, I’ll bet.”
There would be no morning. But Kaylie knew it was pointless to say so.
The nurse lingered another moment, perhaps expecting Kaylie to reconsider, but Kaylie was silent, leaning disconsolately against the door.
“Sometimes,” Nurse Cunningham said finally, “I wonder why I even try.”
Her shoes squeaked again as she stalked off down the hall. Kaylie heard her go.
It was the sound of hope retreating… fading… gone.
The nurse would not stop Cray. No one would stop him.
You’re dead, girl, Anson said, and Justin added, As dead as me.