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Feeling a little more at ease, I make my way to the receptionist’s desk and sign in. The small beta behind the glass offers me a warm smile. Most of the staff here are betas, asafer choice given their lack of pheromone emissions, general levelheadedness, and reduced hormonal fluctuations.
Am I a bit jealous? Yes, indeed.
“Good morning, Seraphina!” the friendly beta greets me.
I can’t quite recall her name, as it lingers at the edge of my memory. Thankfully, Lex steps up behind me. “Hello there, Melody. You look incredible today,” he says, winking.
“Ever the flirt, Alexander,” she replies, blushing. “All clear, you two can go in now. Thea is actually in the craft room today.”
Nervousness churns in my belly. The last thing my sister needs is access to scissors or even a needle. Pushing my worry aside, I force a smile and whisper, “Thanks.”
As soon as we’re out of earshot, Lex moves ahead, muttering, “I guarantee she’s up to something.”
“Agreed.” There’s a reason the craft room is usually off-limits to Thea. She’s truly insane in every sense of the word.
The halls are lined with yellow tiles and peeling paint, but right now, I hardly notice any of that as I navigate the first floor. The cafeteria lies straight ahead, and all the classes and the library are on this level. The patients sleep on the second floor, and the lower level houses the doctors’ offices, while all the activity rooms are in the center of the ground floor.
The craft room is just across from the library down the hall. Lex and I move in silence, his longer legs covering more ground. He glances back at me, and I can see the concern in his eyes, not wanting to leave me behind.
“Go,” I tell him, and he rushes around the corner. I slow my pace, uncertain what awaits us and whether I even want to find out. As I round the corner, and the absence of screams greets me, but it doesn’t bring relief, only heightened apprehension.
Pushing open the door to the craft room, I step inside. Yarn, needles, and long tables are scattered all around. Lex eases intoa chair beside Thea, who gazes at him with a new, unsettling expression. I’ve never seen her look at him like that.
Happy.
Swallowing my unease, I walk over and sit across from her. She looks... different. She colored her hair a jeweled purple streaked with black, making her pale face stand out and her freckles pop against the uncharacteristic purple hue. There are faint dark circles under her eyes, but her blue eyes sparkle with clarity as she turns to me.
“Seraphina!” she exclaims, jumping up and abandoning her sewing circle to envelop me in a hug. Her usual scent of spun sugar seems devoid of any toxins, almost like the Thea we grew up with. “You smell amazing.” She buries her head in my neck, and I glance over at Lex, who clenches his jaw.
We all carry scents reminiscent of sugar. Thea smells like spun sugar, Lex smells like caramel, and I smell like brown sugar.
Pulling back from the embrace, I look down at my sister. In just one week, she put on a few pounds, regaining some of what the past year took from her.
Unable to suppress my curiosity, I turn my attention to her sewing circle. “What are you making?” I ask, purposely injecting excitement into my voice. However, it doesn’t come naturally, especially considering the fact that needles make me uneasy, especially Thea holding a needle.
“It’s a curse word,” she says with childlike enthusiasm, tossing herself back over the table to proudly display her project, which indeed spells out the word “cunt.”
“Sure is,” I reply.
Fortunately, the doctor chooses that moment to walk in. “Seraphina and Alexander, may I speak with you two for a moment?” she requests, fully aware that we will, in fact, speak with her, because what on earth is going on?
I’m the first to pop up, and Thea doesn’t even notice as we walk over to the doctor. Dr. Isabella Blackwood is a beta woman in her late forties with a regal, commanding presence that matches her position. She stands tall with an air of confidence, her long, dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. Behind black-rimmed glasses, her hazel eyes hold a sharp intelligence and a hint of warmth.
Dr. Blackwood’s attire is professional yet stylish, a tailored suit that complements her figure and exudes authority. She moves with purpose, every step radiating competence and assurance. She doesn’t say a word as she ushers us into the hall and quietly shuts the door.
“Glad I caught you two,” she says, her voice measured and reassuring, as though she ran here to head us off. “We’ve started Thea on a new medication.”
I peer through the little window in the door, seeing Thea staring at me, unmoving. “I can see that,” I grumble. “Who gave you permission?” I don’t mean for it to sound harsh, but I can’t hold it back now that I said it.
“Seraphina,” Lex scolds me.
“No, no. She’s correct,” Dr. Blackwood says, pushing her glasses up. “We called your parents,” she says slowly. “They called us Monday morning to see how Thea was doing.”
My stomach nearly drops through my hoo-ha. I love my parents, but they also didn’t want anything to do with Thea and her crimes, so the fact that they suddenly want to be a part of her treatment pisses me off.
Dr. Blackwood rushes out, “Legally speaking, my hands are tied,” she says, knowing it’s just to appease us, her siblings, who have been here from the start. “They are her legal guardians. I apologize for not contacting you sooner.”
“What is she on?” Lex scrubs a hand down his face.
