I swallow hard, a mix of anger and grief exploding inside of my chest before it’s washed away. “What will happen to her?
This is cruel, even for The Program.”
“I assure you, it isn’t as terrible as you think—not for someone like her. We’ve perfected our techniques for a lobotomy. It’s not like it was back when they were first popular. Lobotomies were for the criminally insane. They were never meant to cure patients—
only to make them easier to manage. Here we have a purpose.
Dallas’s frontal lobe will be disconnected from the nerves that are sending her infected signals.” He folds his hands in front of him in a practiced doctorly move. “We will insert a metal rod behind her eye and sever the nerves. When it’s done, Dallas will have no physical scars, but she’ll no longer want to kill herself.”
“She won’t be able to think either,” I snap.
“Not true. We’re not cutting out pieces of her brain; we’re rerouting the wires. The result is a calmer, less violent person.
She won’t remember any of the horrible stuff she’s been through.
Her long-term memory will be gone. She’ll undergo extensive physical and speech therapy, and in three to six months, Dallas will be ready to experience life again.”
“Is that what will happen to me?” I ask, my voice weak.
“It depends on if you can help us, Sloane. Tell me, where is Michael Realm?”
His mouth is lying, while his eyes give me everything I need to know. There is no other therapy in this facility. I will end up just like the others.
“I don’t know where Realm is,” I say.
“What was the last thing he said to you?” he asks. “What was your last conversation about?”
The memory is being sought out, and unable to lie with the medication slipping through my veins, I answer. “We were on a bridge the day before the handlers came. Realm said he understood about me and James—that I’d always pick James over him. He promised that no matter what . . . he’d always choose me. But I didn’t want that.”
Dr. Beckett nods. “Do you expect to see Michael again?” he asks.
I swallow hard, trying to hold the words back, but I can’t.
“Yes. I expect him to rescue me.”
Beckett actually laughs. “That so? I assure you, that isn’t actually possible. But the fact that you believe it . . . That speaks volumes. Sloane, do you love Michael Realm?”
“Right now, I hate him.”
“But overall, despite how he’s lied and betrayed you . . . do you love Michael Realm?”
There’s the sting of tears in my eyes, a slight quiver to my bottom lip. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I do.”
“Then we won’t have to find him,” the doctor says, closing the file. “He’ll come for you. And we’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Six
WHEN I WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING, I HAVE A MEDication hangover. I don’t wait for it to wear off before I’m out of bed, pulling on a pair of clean scrubs. On the side table is a breakfast tray, but there’s no time to eat. They’re lobotomizing Dallas today. I have to find her—save her—before they do. I walk quickly down the hall, the room tilting in my mind and sending me into the wall several times as I try to adjust my balance. I have to remember the way to solitary, but the world is hazy.
“Sloane?” I turn and see Asa coming down the adjacent hall. “What are you doing out of your room?”
“I need to get to Dallas,” I say. “You have to help me save her.”
Asa shoots an alarmed look around the empty hall before jogging over to grab my arm, turning and leading me back toward my room. I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip.
“Let me go,” I call out, but he only quickens his pace.
“You’re hurting me.” When we get to my room, he slingshots me inside, making me stumble against the bed. He checks the hall once more before closing the door.
“Have you lost your mind?” he shouts, and then glances behind him at the door. Drawing the attention of the nurses or other handlers is the last thing Asa wants, and I test him by trying for the door again. He grabs me, pulling me to his side.
He doesn’t look down at me, only tips his head in my direction while he stares straight ahead.
“If you do this, Sloane, they will end you. There is no way out of solitary without Dr. Beckett’s approval.” His hazel eyes find mine. “And I’m guessing you don’t have that.”
“I can’t let them lobotomize her. You have to help me, Asa.” There’s a weakening in his posture, but he only shrugs. “I can’t,” he whispers. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t. Not without compromising myself.”
“Then what?” I ask. “What am I supposed to do? After Dallas, then it’ll be me. Will you wait then, too?”
“No, I made Realm a promise.”
“Why?” I ask, throwing up my hands. “What do you owe him that could be worth this much?”
Asa darts his gaze away, his cheeks growing flush. “Michael Realm saved my life once, and I owe him.”
“Maybe he was lying to you, too.”
Asa smiles at this, turning to me. “He was. He definitely was, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. I would have killed myself—I sure as hell wanted to. Realm was my only friend.
Real or not, he saved me. And this is how I’m paying him back.
He loves you, Sloane. For all his flaws, he loves you.”
“Too bad I don’t feel the same,” I respond. “Be sure to tell him that.”
Asa flinches when his phone vibrates. He pulls it out to check a message and then takes a step backward. “I have to go,” he says. “But I need you to stay away from Dallas. You have four days—you can’t let them take you to the surgeon before then. Do you understand me?”
“Like I can stop it.”
“Do what you can,” he offers. He slips out the door, but not before I noticed the way his skin paled, his muscles tensed.
Despite Asa’s warning, I can’t let it go. I can’t just leave Dallas helpless for them to stick a metal rod behind her eye and sever her life. There has to be something I can do.
My breathing is jagged and adrenaline starts to pulsate as a frantic thought takes over. Maybe I can fight our way out.
I scan the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon.
All I see are covered plates of food and the plastic spoon that sits on the side of the breakfast tray. I wish Nurse Kell would have left her knitting needles or something sharp. I’ll need a key card to get into solitary, and it’s obvious Asa isn’t just going to hand over his.