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She turned and walked toward the kitchen, her boot heels clicking on the hardwood. I glanced toward the elevator. It was about six feet away. I took a small side step in that direction. The woman took a glass from a cabinet and turned on the faucet. Her back was to me. I took a deep breath and lunged for the elevator button. I pounded it hard with my closed fist. Nothing happened. No light. No ding. No hum. I heard footsteps behind me. Shit! I whipped around. My glasses flew off and skittered across the floor. Everything went blurry. I panicked. I dropped to my hands and knees and reached for my frames. Her boot heel came down and smashed them to pieces.
“You don’t need those anymore,” she said. “I mean, youwon’t.”
CHAPTER 4
Eastern Russia
26 Years Ago
IT WAS MIDNIGHT. Headmaster Alexei Kamenev was still in his office at the school. The curriculum he had inherited was excellent, but he often worked on small tweaks late into the night, refining a technique or devising a new challenge. The wall facing his desk was covered with 5″x7″ black-and-white photographs of his students, hundreds of them. So many that the faces practically filled the space from floor to ceiling. Kamenev felt a deep interest in every single one. Affection, even. He understood all their strengths and weaknesses—but most of all, their potential for greatness. After all, he had chosen each of them personally. By now, he knew them better than their parents ever had.
Kamenev looked up as a thin shadow passed across the frosted glass panel of his office door. He usually left bed check to his staff, but tonight he felt like stretching his legs. He closed his leather notebook and put down his pen.
When he reached the doorway to the preschool girls’ dormitory, Matron Lyudmila Garin was already walking the room like a wraith. Maybe sixty years old, she looked ten years older, pale and sickly. She looked up at Kamenev with hollow eyes and gave him a respectful nod.
The narrow beds were arranged in neat rows a few feet apart. Garin glided easily between them, but Kamenev, with his extra bulk, had to be careful not to knock against the bedframes. The light from the full moon passed through the window bars and cast shadows across the room. It was a chilly night, and most of the girls were tucked under their wool blankets, but there was one, at the far end of the room, who was not. Curious, Kamenev walked over.
It was the copper-haired girl. She was lying on top of her blanket, curled around a ragged stuffed bear. Kamenev looked up as Garin approached. In the dim light, the matron looked even more frail and wasted. Kamenev tapped the bear lightly.
“What’s this?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Garin looked down at the skinny four-year-old, already tall for her age. She was holding the bear tight, spoon fashion, her arms around its soft belly.
“It’s the only way she can sleep,” said Garin softly. She stifled a cough.
“An indulgence,” said Kamenev curtly. “Remove it.” He turned and walked back down the row toward the door. Garin hesitated, then leaned over and pulled the bear gently from the girl’s grasp. The girl’s eyes popped open. Startled, she blinked and looked up. Seeing the bear in Garin’s arms, she reached up with a whimper, tears pooling in her eyes. “No!Please!” she said softly. Garin leaned back down and brushed the copper curls away from the girl’s forehead.
“You have only yourself,” she whispered softly. “Nothing else.”
Garin held the scruffy stuffed animal tight to her chest and walked toward the doorway, where Kamenev stood in silhouette. She glanced back and saw the copper-haired girl trembling as she curled herself around her thin white pillow.
CHAPTER 5
Chicago
I DON’T UNDERSTAND how I managed to sleep, but I guess I did. For all I know, the water she gave me was drugged. When I opened my eyes, I instinctively felt around for my glasses. Then I remembered. Right. Crushed. The whole world was fuzzy, which made it even more terrifying.
It took me a few seconds to realize where I was, which was in some kind of cell in a rear corner of the loft. Cot up against one side. Metal stool bolted to the middle of the floor. Metal toilet against the back wall. Clear shower stall. And transparent Plexiglass all around. Maximum security. Zero privacy.
My suit and shoes were gone. I was wearing gym shorts and a Nike T-shirt. Had she actually undressed me while I was unconscious?? Jesus! I didn’t see or hear her anywhere. Was she gone? Did she leave me here to starve to death? Was she watching me right now on a camera? I squinted to make things a little sharper, but I couldn’t make out any movement.
I slipped out from under the blanket. My bladder felt like a water balloon. I stared at the toilet. Normally, there’s no way I could pee right out there in the open. But my body wasn’t giving me a choice. It was either that or wet my pants. I walked the two steps to the toilet and tugged the leg hole of my shorts aside. As the stream hit the bowl, I heard footsteps.
“Morning, Doctor.”
Shit!Her voice put a crimp in my flow. I hunched forward, doing my best to shelter my privates. I saw her shape pass by on the way to the kitchen.
“Don’t mind me,” she said. “Do what you need to do.”
I did my best to finish up, then tucked myself back in and flushed. She was heating a kettle, putting a teabag into a cup. “Sorry about the Hannibal Lecter setup,” she said. “Probably overkill. At least in your case.”
I pounded on the clear wall facing her and shouted. No words, just a guttural scream—at the top of my lungs.
“Speak normally, Doctor,” she said. “The cell is wired. I can hear you perfectly.”
This was insane! Sociopathic. She was going about her business like she was talking with a house guest. On the other hand, if she really wanted me dead, she’d had plenty of chances. Or maybe she was just drawing it out. Making me suffer. A sociopathanda sadist. What had I done to deserve this?? Whyme??
She poured her tea and carried her mug over to the front of my enclosure. She pulled up a rolling stool and sat down. She took a sip of her tea and tilted her head. Her face was blurry from where I stood, but I felt that she was looking at me like I was some kind of rare zoo specimen. She set her mug down on the floor and crossed her legs. She cleared her throat.
