Deviation (Clone Chronicles #2)(40)

I pull my door shut behind me with a quiet click and, one hand on the wall to keep my bearings, I go right—toward the back stairwell. These stairs lead to two things. The gym and Daniel’s cell.

My heartbeat is erratic as I contemplate all of the possibilities for someone from either location yelling in the middle of the night.

At the end of the hall, I push open the heavy door and go completely still against the doorframe, positive someone will come running at the sound the weighted hinges make. But no one does. The stairwell remains quiet. I force my eyes to adjust, blinking frantically at the sudden bright light. They must keep the lights on here, no matter the hour. Either that or someone has recently used this access point—and maybe will again at any moment. I hurry forward.

With each step down, my heartbeat thuds against my temple; the pain meds have worn off. My hands cling to the bannister until my knuckles turn white. I haven’t heard another sound since leaving my bedroom.

Maybe it was a dream.

A heavy thud shakes the walls, rising up from the floor below me and vibrating the stair underneath my feet. I press on, one foot then the other, gripping the railing and breathing heavily. My face feels too large on one side, as if the skin has been stretched and a tennis ball wedged underneath. The puffiness around my eye encroaches on my peripheral vision. I keep my head turned slightly right to compensate, wanting to see the doorway leading out to the lower floor the moment it comes into view. One more step. Another. Then a third.

I pass the landing that leads to the gym, hesitating only briefly as I consider searching for Josephine. In the end, I decide against it. Besides Linc, there isn’t anyone inside these walls I fully trust.

Finally, I step off the last stair and onto level ground again. I lean against the wall, winded and trying to see around the black dots that wink at me from the edges of my vision.

Above me, the door opens and someone enters the stairwell. My heart lurches straight up and into my throat. I fumble for the handle, fling the door open, and slip out, uncaring about the noise I make so long as I find a place to hide. The door swings shut behind me on automatic hinges, leaving me in the dimly lit hallway. It stretches right before curving away toward the cells. To the left is a short hall of what looks like storage closets.

I go left, trying knobs and hoping for an unlocked storage closet before whoever is in the stairwell reaches this floor. Three doors down, I turn and the knob gives. I push open the door and slip inside a dark room, guiding the latch closed as quietly as possible behind me. Just as the latch catches, I hear the stairwell door open and then shut again.

Then everything is silent.

I don’t dare move or even try to conceal myself. The complete blackness I stand in makes it impossible to know where to step. I stand where I am, just behind the door, and will the person to have gone the other way.

When I hear the knob turn, I jump and flatten myself against the wall. The door opens, brushing against my toes. A second later, the light clicks on, flooding the space. My vision swims in a sea of white light. I blink furiously, trying to bring the face into focus. Wisps of brown hair frame a pretty face.

“Raven?”

My panic dials back and my breath whooshes out. “Josephine,” I manage.

“What are you doing in here?” she asks. Her eyes settle on the right side of my face and then go wide. “Oh, darling. No one told me it was this bad. I’m so sorry.”

She pulls me into her shoulder, angling my face and pressing my unmarred cheek lightly against her in a hug. Her arms envelop me, one hand stroking my hair. I consider pulling away but it’s been so long since anyone touched me—anyone other than Linc and that’s different—that I let her. It feels … motherly. Or what I imagine motherly affection would be. Something inside me loosens and my eyes fill with tears.

We stand that way until she pulls back. Even then, she keeps a hand on my shoulder. With the other, she strokes my hair, careful to keep away from my swollen eye. “How are you feeling?” she asks. Her expression is awash with sympathy. I try to ignore it and the way she’s touching me. It’s too nice. If I let it, her caring will break me apart.

“My head hurts,” I admit. I don’t tell her how much or that the knot below my eye has begun pulsing to its own beat.

“I sent some pills up for you.” She frowns and glances at her watch. “I guess they’ve worn off by now.”

I don’t answer. She sighs and inspects my face again, this time with the trained eye of a medical professional. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come myself. He wouldn’t let me.”

I don’t bother to ask. We both know who she means. “Have you seen Linc?” I ask instead.

She shakes her head. “Not since this morning. Or, I guess I should say yesterday morning at this point. I didn’t realize it was so late. Is everything okay, Raven? What are you doing down here?”

“I heard a noise. It woke me up.”

The skin around her eyes tightens fractionally and I realize she knows about the noise. There’s something she isn’t telling me. “Josephine,” I say. “What was the noise?”

“Raven.” Her shoulders sag. “You should go back to bed.”

“What are you doing down here?” I try instead.

“I came to replenish some gauze and other supplies for my cabinet upstairs.” She picks up a box and tucks it under her arm. “And here it is. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”