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I move my hand out of her reach before she could dab at the spill on my glove. “I said, it’s fine.”
“Oh. Sure.” Carolina gulps, then gives one last swipe with her napkin. “I… I really am sorry.”
“Accidents happen. Don’t worry about it.”
“Here.” She pushes her biscuit toward me. “You looked like you enjoyed yours. I thought you might want mine.”
We’ll both get in trouble if any of the techs notice that she’s giving me her food—and that I’m taking it. Better get rid of the evidence. Mumbling a quiet thank you, I snatch the biscuit and take a huge bite before Kelsey or Frankie see me at it. Chew. Swallow. I do it again.
And that’s when I notice the black smudge where the biscuit sat on Carolina’s napkin. The biscuit is buttery, and it left a ring-shaped grease stain that caused the ink to run and turn blurry. Because, when I squint and look closer, I realize that’s what the black smudge is.
It’s writing.
Someone wrote four tiny lines on the napkin and covered it with a biscuit.
Setting the half-eaten biscuit on my plate, I pick up the napkin and squint to make out the words:
Find me after dinner.
We have to talk.
Tell no one else.
She has eyes everywhere.
I read it twice. It’s not so blurry that I’m reading it wrong. But what the hell does that mean?
Lifting my head up, I start to ask Carolina. She’s gone, though. While I was reading her note, she picked up her bowl and scurried away from the table. I watch as she dodges Kelsey, waiting until the techs are busy to get rid of her dinner.
Once she does, she turns back to look at our empty table. I’m the only one still sitting here so even if I could pretend she didn’t mean for me to find this note, that disappears when our eyes meet.
I recognize that look. Carolina is lost, she’s confused, and she’s reaching out. I’ve got no fucking clue why she picked me of all people, but I’ve been where she is. She needs help.
Too bad I can’t even help myself half of the time.
With Carolina’s napkin crumpled up and hidden in my fist, I go to my room after dinner because that’s what I’m supposed to do. It’s routine. Besides, it’s not like I don’t know that the techs and the nurses are keeping a closer eye on me than usual these last couple of days.
Part of me wonders if Dr. Gillespie put them up to it, or maybe Lorraine—my social worker is trying to do everything she can to make sure I’m released on time and, as much as I hate to admit, my breakdown the other night didn’t do me any favors. Could be that they’re all still on guard because they’re expecting a repeat performance.
Regardless, I decide to wait until after I take my nighttime meds to see if I can sneak out to see Carolina. Lockdown isn’t for another two hours. It might not be something I usually do—or, well, have ever done—but I can go visit another patient in my ward until lights out.
Ignoring Carolina’s note isn’t even an option. I have to know what she’s talking about. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit. We all have our issues. There are countless professionals inside of Black Pine who are qualified to help her. Me? What can I do?
Nothing, that’s what. Doesn’t matter, though. It’s the last line that got to me. She has eyes everywhere... She? Who the hell is she? It’s bad enough that I’ve got Nine’s warning about Rys and the other fae running around in my head. Am I supposed to be worrying about a she now?
Only one way to find out.
It’s Friday night which means—thank God—no Nurse Stanley. No Duncan, either. He’s been out since the night I lost my shit with Diana. A rumor has been circulating on o
ur floor that the crunch I heard that night was the sound of my kick breaking Duncan’s nose. Oops.
Whatever the reason, it’s Frankie who comes with Nurse Pritchard tonight. I actually like this nurse. She’s the oldest nurse in the ward, with thick, white curly hair that looks like there’s a baby sheep sitting on her head. I don’t see her very often, only when Nurse Stanley is having a night off, but she always smiles as if she’s glad to see me.
She wears glasses that are half an inch thick and still squints through them. I used to practice fake-taking my meds with Nurse Pritchard before I was confident I would fool Nurse Stanley.
I’m not gonna need those skills tonight.
Her hands are shaky as she holds out my dixie cup. Careful to avoid her fingers, I grab the cup before she spills the pills onto the floor. I don’t really want to take meds that hit the ground but, desperate as I am right about now, not gonna lie—I’d take them if they landed in a toilet.
