“And then she’d kill me.”
“You want to just roll over and let her do whatever she wants to you? Is that it?”
“No—”
“Then you either fight, Anna, or you let me protect you. That’s something I can do.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
I’m exhausted just navigating through this conversation, so I pick up the short glass of water and down the whole thing. As I’m considering getting up to fill it again, Joe says, “Do you feel safe at night?”
“What do you mean?”
“Has anything strange happened after lights out?”
Aside from my own personal activity? “No.”
“Anyone breaking in your room after doors are closed?”
Now he has my attention. “No. Who would do that?”
“Well, the staff have keys—but it’s not that hard to break in if you know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean?”
With a sly grin, he picks up his coffee. “It’s not that hard. I could break into your room any time I wanted.”
“What? How? Do you have a key?”
Lowering his voice, he leans close, and that reminds me that I probably need to watch my volume, too. “I have two paperclips. That’s all I need.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Easy.”
My mind goes wild now, and again I wonder if we really are in some sort of prison. There are a lot of bad people here. Joe doesn’t seem bad to me, but breaking and entering is a crime, right? Good people don’t go around picking locks. “Why haven’t you done it then?”
“What? Break into your room?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t ask.” Well, that weighs against him being a bad guy. Bad people don’t ask for permission. “Do you want me to?”
Something inside my brain lights up as if it’s on the halftime stage at the Super Bowl. Do I want Joe to break into my room? “When?”
“After lights out.”
I hear someone’s voice inside my head, someone I once knew and loved and trusted, telling me that good girls wait until marriage.
My grandma?
Whoa. Closing my eyes, I try to grab hold of an already tenuous memory that is once more fading fast. I can almost see her kind face but what I really see is her thin, wrinkly, veiny hand dotted with age spots holding mine. It’s cool to the touch, but it warms my heart just the same.
I hear Joe’s voice. “Anna? Anna? Are you okay?”
I open my eyes then. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Shit. You had me worried. I thought maybe you were having a seizure or something. I was getting ready to holler for a nurse.” I’m shaking my head now. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, hoping to reassure him, but I’m still trying to hang onto that photo in my mind, and I wonder how to get it back.
“Maybe the meds were helping you.”
“Are you kidding, Joe? No, what just happened was good. I remembered my grandma.”
“For real?”
“Yes.”
“You think it’s a real memory and not something—”
I hadn’t even considered the possibility that my brain might just start making stuff up to fill the void—but it felt so real. It couldn’t be imaginary. “Yes, it’s real. It has to be. It was just a small glimpse, but it felt just as real to me as the two of us talking right now.”
“Then that’s great.” He cuts into his waffles with a fork.
“I have a theory.”
“What’s that?”
“It seems like bouts of high emotion trigger me to remember stuff.”
“So this isn’t the first time it’s happened?”
“No. It doesn’t happen often, but I’ve had some, uh, flashes. I guess that would be the best way to describe them.”
“That’s awesome, Anna. Do you have any idea why you’re here?”
Now I laugh. “No, they haven’t been that illuminating. They really are just flashes, quick pictures and emotions. Nothing I can really grab hold of, you know? Nothing I can mull over, ponder. Nothing that allows me to really puzzle together anything about my life. It’s just tiny little pieces, like crumbs in a pie pan.”
“But it has to be good, right?”
“I think so.” I’ve been shoving the food around my plate for a good five minutes now. Bobbi kind of ruined my appetite.
Joe takes a swallow of juice and then puts everything down, looking at me with enough intensity to take my breath away. “You said feeling really emotional seems to trigger them?”
I nod. “Yes. At least, I think so.”
“Then maybe we need to figure out how to do that. Maybe we could see if one of the movies they show has anything that could do that—or I could tell you some stories.”
“Good idea.” I cut off a chunk of the green-hued melon on my plate before piercing it with my fork. “I have an idea, too.” Already, my cheeks are flaming as I feel my grandma’s cool hand on mine, urging me to be a good girl.
But being good hasn’t helped me in this place. Knowing I’ve been here for two years with no end in sight, seemingly good in a murky sea of questionable folk, I think it’s time to be a little naughty. The potential side effect of opening up my memory bank is but one potential reward.
“What’s that?” Joe asks, possibly growing impatient with me.
“What if you got caught trying to break into my room after lights out?”
A grin lights up his beautiful whiskery face, his cerulean eyes shining, a twinkle of mischief in them.
That look of mischief makes my body tingle all over, promising something.
“You let me worry about that. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I say as I remember the sting of his kiss on my lips. “I want you to break into my room tonight.”
“I’ll be there,” he vows, and my heart sings in anticipation.
11
Lights out.
Never have I been this excited for such a mundane event. I’m still holding my pills in my hand, trying to decide where to safely stash them for now. Even if Joe and I do nothing more than snuggle on my bed, I don’t want to lose one of them. Under my pillow is not an option at the moment.
At first, I put the pills on the floor in a corner of the room. It’s off the beaten path, so even if we were to dance all around the room, they’d probably be safe—but what if I go to sleep and a tech comes in before I’ve awakened?
Bad idea.
I settle on hiding them under the bed. Again, they’re off the beaten path but even if I fall asleep and a tech gets me up before I can grab them, I will at least have a chance of them staying hidden until I can do something about it.
Now I sit on the edge of the bed, nervous with anticipation. My palms are damp, but my mouth is almost dry, and every nerve is taut. My whole body is waiting for something.
I consider getting up to peek out the window, but that’s a bad idea. Joe has a lot of potential maneuvering to do, and the last thing he needs is for me to draw attention to myself.
I have a feeling patience has never been one of my strong suits.