The Treatment (The Program #2)(67)

“Where was Michael Realm during this exchange? Casanova was there, but Michael wasn’t at the farm. Do you know where he went?”

“Maybe he killed himself,” I say bitterly. As the words meet the silence of the room, I immediately regret them. I don’t want Realm dead. I want him to tell me the doctor is lying about all this. I want him to bring me to James.

“I’m fully confident that Michael is still alive,” the doctor says. “But don’t worry; you’ll get your justice once we find him.

Now, when was the last time you saw him?”

“In the house. He and Cas got into an argument, and they took it outside. Then James and I went upstairs and . . .” I lift my eyes to Dr. Beckett, realizing I shouldn’t know that James is free. “How is James?” I ask, sounding concerned.

The doctor smiles. “He’s just fine, Sloane. He’s in a Program facility and being very cooperative from what I hear.

You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You only have to worry about yourself.”

“Don’t hurt him.” Dr. Beckett is caught in his own lie and he doesn’t even know it. I blink rapidly as if holding back tears.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

The doctor purses his lips like he’s having an attack of conscience.

“I’ll send word that you asked for him. Okay?” I nod, pretending to be grateful. I ease back in the chair and focus on the last days at the farmhouse. My conversation with James about babies, details that can’t possibly help Beckett find anyone, let alone my boyfriend.

Beckett writes something down in his notes, and he’s vis-ibly agitated. I’m reminded that I have only about six days until I’ll be lobotomized, unless I buy more time. That’s what Asa told me. “Maybe . . . ,” I start, not sure what I’m going to say next but knowing I have to do something. “Maybe I’m forgetting a clue,” I say. “To where Realm is. He might have told me something, but I can’t remember.”

The doctor glances up, removing his glasses and setting them on the desk. “There are medications that can help make the memories more vivid,” he says. “We can try them next time.” He’s distrustful, and I guess he’s wondering the real reason to why I’m suddenly such a model patient. I’m quick to offer a cover.

“If you find him,” I say, sounding braver than I feel. “I want to talk to him before you do”—I wave my hand—“whatever it is you’re planning on doing to him. And then I want to go home.”

Dr. Beckett nods condescendingly. “Or course, sweetheart.

You’ll still have to complete The Program, but after that you’ll be free to go.”

“Deal.”

The doctor doesn’t mention the lobotomy, not that I thought he would. But maybe part of me hoped he would just admit it. Then again, without the niceties, each day could dissolve into torture. I’ve seen Lacey, Arthur. I know what’s to come. Maybe it’s best to live in denial for as long as I can.

* * *

Doctor Beckett has me swallow a shiny red pill before leaving his office. I’m surprised when Asa isn’t waiting for me, but I’m already getting sleepy so I try to hurry down the hall. I pause on my way past the waiting room.

Lacey’s there, rocking gently as she stares out the window.

She seems better—at least a little more with it—than she did the other times I saw her. Before walking in, I cast a glance around the hallway, and when the coast is Kell-free, I walk in.

“I like your hair,” I say as my lamest and most nonthreatening opening statement ever. Lacey looks up and flashes her teeth.

“Thanks.” She doesn’t ask me to sit, but her posture tells me she isn’t opposed to the idea. I don’t remember what Lacey was like before The Program, but I have to believe she was always a badass. I wonder if that side of her will eventually come out again.

I sit on the stiff couch cushion, facing her chair, and she turns slightly as if curious to what I’ll say next. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “I’m Sloane,” I say.

She smiles softly, her eyes wide as they glance over at me.

In them I find no recognition, but they’re not dead. Not completely. I lean closer, checking again to make sure we’re not being watched.

“Your name is Lacey,” I whisper. “You’re Lacey Klamath and you’re from Oregon.”

Her smile fades, her brows pulling together as she fights to understand what I mean. She doesn’t know who she is—at all—but her personality is set. It’s not solely based on her memories. She’ll still be Lacey. Despite the panic that’s bubbling up at the thought of her never coming back, I’m trying to convince myself that she’s still Lacey.

“If I could get us out of here,” I say weakly, “would you come with me?”

Lacey’s eyes drift past me, and a hand grips my shoulder, nearly making me leap out of my skin. I turn and see Asa standing over me, his jaw set in anger.

“You must be tired, Miss Barstow,” he says coldly. “Let’s get you back to your room to rest.” He’s right; underneath this burst of adrenaline; my body is really medicated, ready to crash.

I glance at Lacey once more, but she’s turned away, back to rocking as she stares out the window.