“Keep your mouth shut about this too,” he snarled, handing her the note. “Or else.”
She grabbed it and rushed over to the other side of the room, where she found an empty seat and smoothed the paper out on her dirty, skinned knee. It read:
When everyone leaves to go back to the wards, stay here. We need to talk. Rip this up after you read it.
With her heart thudding in her chest, Sage looked around to see if Norma or anyone else had noticed her reading the note. A sudden screech tore across the room. Wayne had cornered the wild-haired girl who’d taken the note, and he had her pinned against the wall, his fist gripping the collar of her ruffled dress. The girl grimaced and shielded her head with her hands. Wayne shook her and shouted something in her face, then let her go. When he turned to leave, the girl crumpled to the ground, crying and laughing at the same time. Sage tore the note into tiny pieces, shoved half of them under a sagging couch cushion and the other half behind the backrest, then hurried over to the wild-haired girl to see if she was all right. The girl screamed at her and scrambled away.
After the frenzy of breakfast, lunch, dinner, and what felt like a hundred chaotic hours, the daily battle of trying to survive the dayroom finally came to an end. Wayne unlocked the doors, propped them open, and started shouting at the residents to move toward the hall. Sage hung back, nervous sweat dampening her forehead and upper lip. Did Wayne know what the note had said? Was he going to let her stay behind, or would he think she was causing trouble? As usual, he ordered the able-bodied residents to push the carts and the wheelchairs out the door while he herded the slow and uncooperative residents from behind, pushing and shoving them forward. Sage prayed he wouldn’t notice her or check for stragglers before he left. Then she had another thought and her blood ran cold.
What if he stayed behind too? What if he and Eddie had come up with a vicious plan to get her alone and rape her? The only thing she knew for certain about Eddie was that he was a janitor who knew Rosemary—that was it. And she’d based all her trust on that. What if he was as bad as Wayne?
No. She couldn’t give in to her doubts and fears. There was no reason to believe Eddie and Wayne wanted to trap her there. And this could be her last chance for who knew how long to get someone to listen. She moved toward the back the room, her nerves on fire, and sat down in a chair.
When the last resident left the room, Wayne released one of the double doors and closed it. After releasing the other side, he stood in the open door for a moment, blank-faced, his eyes locked on her. Then he shot her a lecherous grin, like a cat about to eat a mouse, before slamming and locking it.
She jumped out of the chair and raced toward the double doors, a sudden surge of panic filling her chest. She was trapped, and at a stranger’s mercy. Despite knowing they were locked, she tried the handles, then pounded on the doors with both hands.
“Let me out!” she shouted.
On the other side of the doors, the muffled sounds of the residents lumbering down the hall moved farther and farther away, the screams, cries, wails, and laughter growing fainter and fainter. She pounded on the doors again.
“Someone, please! Let me out of here!”
No one came.
She turned and leaned against the door, struggling to control her terror. Without the residents, the vast, empty dayroom looked like a war zone. Shit and blood and claw marks marred the walls, overturned chairs and vomit littered the pockmarked floor. The perfect place to commit a murder. No one would even notice more blood.
She felt sick with fear. What if Wayne came back to make sure she kept her mouth shut about the secret room? What if he was Cropsey? What if he had killed Rosemary and was going to get rid of her next? She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop shaking. Don’t be ridiculous. Cropsey isn’t real. And even if Wayne and Eddie wanted to shut her up, they wouldn’t be able to get her body out of there without being seen.
Except . . . she and Norma had wandered the halls last night without seeing a soul, hadn’t they? Plus, the residents seemed to outnumber the staff by seventy to one, and no one counted heads at the end of the day. Wayne and Eddie could easily hide her body in the room and return for it later without anyone noticing.
She tried to reason away her terror: If her presence was helping Wayne get away with hiding Rosemary, surely he wouldn’t want to harm her.
Just then, a key clunked inside the lock and one of the doors rattled. She stepped back, searching for something—any thing—to use as a weapon. There was nothing but the plastic chairs. She grabbed one and lifted it above her head.
Eddie slipped inside. When he saw her wielding the chair, he stopped short, one hand up to protect himself. “What the hell?” he yelped. “What are you doing? It’s just me.”
“What do you want?”
“What do you mean, what do I want? You’ve been missing for days. I want to know where you’ve been.”
“I’m not Rosemary,” she said. “I’m her twin sister, Sage.”
“Okay, if you say so. Just put the chair down so we can talk.”
“It’s the truth,” she said. “I know you don’t believe me. No one does. I came here as soon as I found out Rosemary was missing, but Dr. Baldwin locked me up because he thinks I’m her. They all do.”
“Okay,” he said, lowering his hand. “Just let me lock the door, then you can tell me everything, all right?”
She nodded.
He locked the door, then studied her face, his clear blue eyes filled with concern. When he edged closer, she lifted the chair higher, ready to strike him if he tried anything. But he stopped, and after a few tense moments, he finally said, “Holy shit.”
“What?” she said.
“I can see it now. You’re really not her.”
“You can tell I’m not Rosemary?”
He nodded, shocked. “Yeah, I can.”
Her shoulders loosened and she lowered the chair, but only partway. “You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”
He shook his head. “I’m not, I promise.”
Nearly crumpling with relief, she put the chair down, but still kept her distance. Finally, someone believed her. Someone might listen and help—unless he was lying so she wouldn’t bash his head in. Her doubts came flooding back. Maybe she was right about Wayne knowing who she really was; maybe he’d already told Eddie. “Why do you believe me? No one else does.”
“Because your voice is different,” he said. “It’s deeper and a little rougher. And even though you’re scared shitless right now, your eyes are softer, more peaceful. Not like Rosemary’s. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like hers.”
“What do you mean? How are her eyes different?”
“Her eyes always look haunted, like her head is full of ghosts.”
Goose bumps prickled along Sage’s arms. What he said made perfect sense. Rosemary always looked like she was seeing people and things that weren’t there. And the odds that Wayne had noticed that about Rosemary’s eyes were pretty low, which meant Eddie had figured out who Sage was on his own. “Do you know what happened to her?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. I wish I did.”
“But you’re friends with her.” It was a more of a statement than a question.