Wilder Girls(43)

She lifts up her clipboard, hands me a thin, bound book she’s been holding underneath. Navy, with gold embossed lettering. I recognize it. A Raxter yearbook. The last one we made before the Tox, the only year I had whole.

I fumble for the whiteboard.

How did you get that

   She doesn’t answer. Opens it, flicks through it slowly. “This was your first year at Raxter, yes? The year before the Tox?” I shrug. “You’re not in here very much.”

Don’t like pictures

“Oh, look. Here’s one.” She holds the book out to me, and I take it, rest it on my lap.

It’s me, Hetty, and Reese, sitting in a row on the couch in the main hall. Hetty’s facing me, telling a story or something, and Reese is perched on the arm of the couch behind me, in the middle of braiding my hair. She’s smiling—only a little, but it’s there—and I have my eyes closed, my head tipped back as I laugh. It could almost be Raxter the way it is now, but the couch is plush and full, and in the background a vase of Raxter Irises sits on the windowsill.

“Who are they? Your friends, I mean.”

I bend closer to the page. Hetty’s eyes are warm, wide with joy. I’d almost forgotten what she looked like with both of them working.

“That’s Hetty, right? Hetty Chapin? And that would be Reese Harker.”

I shut the book as the therapist leans in, tuck it under my whiteboard. Another of Paretta’s crew, asking questions about my friends they have no good reason to ask. I won’t let Hetty or Reese be the next girl in this bed.

Why do you want to know

She tilts her head as she sits back, folds her hands in her lap.

“You’re protective of them. I understand. It’s all right, though, Byatt. They’re safe. Miss Welch and your headmistress are taking care of them.”

   Something inside me snaps its jaws. I lunge out of bed. Too fast, head reeling. The therapist is watching, one hand on the call button at the end of my bed. For emergencies.

“Byatt,” she says, “I need you to sit back down.”

The world winnows down. Blurred, shifting, except for the pulse in her neck. I can see it beating. Blink and I’m braced over her. Blink and she’s pressing the call button and an alarm is blaring. Blink and my knee is wedged under her ribs, her forearm gripped tight in my hands, the suit ripped open. Blink and my nails bite through.

“Byatt!” somebody yells. “What are you doing?”

Somebody’s arms lock around my waist, and I’m hauled back, into the air. Slammed to the floor, head aching. The therapist is clutching her arm to her chest, blood streaming from it in ribbons. Marks, twin curves, buried deep in her wrist. My mouth is wet and sticking.

I start to smile, everything around me so bright and new, and then it’s gone, and I’m alone again. Someone’s hand comes down across my mouth. A prick in my shoulder, and then black.



* * *



—

The crack of a slap to my face, to bring me back. I gasp hard.

“Get her out, let’s go.”

Above me, light and flicker. I’m in my bed, my arms strapped to my sides again. My eyes are starting to clear, shapes turning to people, and Paretta’s is the first face that forms, leaning over me with a snarl.

   “Get her legs.”

Somebody presses down, binds my thighs together. I convulse, something in me thrashing desperately as the straps notch tighter. Another strap at my hips, another at my ankles. My wrists. And for the first time, one at my shoulders, and they’re reaching up to my forehead and my jaw.

I squirm, try to slide down so there’s more slack across my hips, and Paretta reaches down, slams me back onto the bed.

The strap hasn’t come down over my chin yet, and I throw my head from side to side. I’ll scream, I’ll do it, and it’ll hurt all of us, but better that than only me.

“Don’t let her talk!” Paretta shouts. Somebody behind me grabs my head in both hands, and then it’s Teddy, Teddy’s face, and he’s stroking my hair.

“It’s okay,” he says, over and over. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

It’s almost all right. But I know what to look for, and I can see it coming. The heat in his cheeks. The way, just for a second, he looks afraid.

It starts with a heave in his body. Rolling up through him, sweat breaking fresh on his forehead. And then a shiver that won’t stop, and he crumples over me, drool dripping down his chin. He rips off his mask, spits something out, and it lands on my chest. A chip of something white, shining. Bone.

   “Teddy. Oh my God.” Paretta is with him in a second, helping him stand, but his limbs are collapsing one by one.

“Teddy, can you hear me? Teddy!” And they’ve forgotten about me, they’ve left me on the bed with the restraints loose enough that I can twist over and see where he’s on the ground. Eyes all the way white now. Little tremors running through his body.

And then he’s on a gurney, and they’re taking him away, and me, I’m still here.





HETTY





CHAPTER 13


I wake to the sound of my name and Reese shaking me lightly. My skin is damp, sweat soaked through the back of my shirt, and my throat hurts, like I’ve been trying not to scream.