Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

I gotinto bed and stared at the ceiling. No one in this world knew that Layla called me Demilion. I had no friends, and I had no family, so Conrad calling me that made no sense. Between every scenario and every single thought rampaging through my mind, I couldn't sleep, though I knew I needed to. I didn't know what to do. Part of me didn't know if I could even believe myself. Why would the police allow a family to do something illegal? Charlotte was a huge, well-established city. Did I suffer from so much of my own trauma that I couldn't handle this?

Eventually the questions I couldn't answer ceased, and I fell into a deep sleep.

A slight buzz from the small alarm clock echoed and woke me. For the first time in a very long time, I felt well-rested. I didn't feel hungover or deliriously fatigued. I felt… better?

Peeling the soft blanket off my body, I had to find answers. I know without a doubt that Conrad and his parents knew far more about me than they let on. I needed to talk to the girls… the caged girls. I had to find out if they were here by their own free will to actually be helped for a drug addiction or if they were being tortured. I was leaning toward the second option, but I needed to know for sure. The more I thought about the caged girls, the more questions began to form. Why did they only eat all-white food? Why did they shave their heads? Why did everything have to be completely silent? What about the room full of wigs? No, this was wrong. I had to find a way out and not just for me, but for them, too.

I showered, shaved, brushed my short, blonde hair that I was still not used to, and slid into the white ensemble. Staring back at my reflection, I licked my thumb and brushed my thick brows into place. The door of my bedroom slid open, and Bradley was waiting right outside. Seeing his face had become oddly comforting to me now.

"Bradley." I sighed as I walked toward him.

"Demi…" He glanced up at the ceiling before moving two steps over and tugging me to the side. Throwing his arms around me, my eyes widened as he quickly hugged me and my body stiffened in shock.

"I'm glad you're alive. Can you stop being fucking reckless?" he said softly into my ear, his warm breath sending chills down my entire body.

Pulling away, I looked at him and smiled. "I thought you didn't like me."

"I don't." He rolled his eyes and pushed my cart toward me. But this time it wasn't cleaning supplies; it was his usual cart full of steel-covered meals.

"Wait? I'm not cleaning?"

"They want you to serve the food first, then we will pick up your cart so you can clean Dr. Ivory's office before our next tasks."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Help you."

"Fine." I pretended I had a say or a choice in what my role here was, but I didn't. I rolled the cart behind Bradley as we made our way to the Ossis wing.

"What does Ossis even mean?" I questioned.

"Bones."

My breathing hitched as Bradley continued to walk without stopping for a moment. I knew Dr. Ivory was an orthopedic surgeon, but why would he call a space in his house ‘the bone wing' if it was a floor of women they claimed to be helping.

There are questions you want to know the answers to, and others where you know that if you find the answer, you'll be worse off. This was a question I knew I had to push aside. I didn't have the mental strength to handle something more. This was already too much.

The first door slid open, and my heart immediately began to pound rapidly. The girl was laying on the small cot with headphones on.

"Is she listening to music?" I asked Bradley, but he immediately slammed his hand over my mouth and shook his head, implying I needed to stay quiet. I saw a small table that I was supposed to put the food on. Reaching into my cart, I uncovered the meal and saw the small cup of plain milk, white rice, and yogurt—all white.

Trudging slowly to the bedside table, I held my breath as I gently placed the food down. The girl was lying down with her eyes closed and her hands intertwined.

The silence in the icy room felt all the more frightening. I turned slowly but accidentally bumped into the table and knocked over the fork, which crashed onto the tile with a loud clang.

Gasping, Bradley's mouth dropped as I turned to pick it up, but just as I turned, I fell backward as the girl flung upright with her eyes wide and a smile spread across her face.

"Noise." She giggled excitedly as my shaking fingers trembled against the fork.

Before I could speak or even think, Bradley grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the room. The door slid shut and he pressed me against the wall.

"What the hell was that, Demi?" he seethed.

My entire body was covered in goosebumps as I trembled with the image of her pale face, hollow cheekbones, and dried lips curving into a delirious smile.

"What do you mean? You tell me what the hell that was? Why did she act like noise was so shocking? How does a colorless, soundless room have anything to do with withdrawal and coping with a drug addiction?"

"Demi, stop. You're spiraling again." Suddenly Bradley looked at his phone.

"I have to go back inside the room… damage control," he huffed as he read a lengthy message. "Go into the next room, but don't drop anything and don't make a sound. I'm serious, Demi. They're watching you."

Nodding slowly, I made my way down the hall and waited in front of the door, but it didn't open automatically.

"Use your badge," Bradley hissed with irritation. I looked down at the badge and glided it over, and it worked.

Slowly pushing the cart inside, I couldn't believe how frigid each room was. These girls were in short white gowns and mostly bald. They were thin and had a small blanket on each of their beds. There was no way the coldness in the room wasn't torture for them.

Carefully lifting the plate, I shook while I placed it on the table, making sure to back away slowly. But just as I moved from the meal, I stopped.

The girl sat up and stared at me. The bags under her eyes were deep and the bright green stood out strangely against her almost translucent skin.

"Hello," she rasped so softly, that if it weren't for the way her lips moved, I would have assumed I was hallucinating.

"Hey…" I whispered. Looking up at the ceiling, I saw the camera directly facing the young woman. Turning halfway, I pretended to busy myself with the cart.

"Are you okay?" My words shook as I tried to keep my lips still and keep my voice as low as humanly possible.

"Yes."

I looked at her with astonishment. "Really?" I breathed out as I flicked my eyes to the camera.

"Yes. It's safe." She grinned. But it wasn't a smile that was filled with joy; it was a forced, rehearsed smile. Her dry, cracked lips shriveled back into a frown, showing me, it was a mere fa?ade.

"Okay…" I looked into her eyes. Squinting, I could tell they were green-colored contacts. I left the room and went next door, repeating my actions. But this time, I was met with the woman who had mouthed the words, ‘Run.' I looked at her as she was sitting up, blankly staring at the opposing wall. And unlike the other women I had encountered, her hair was starting to grow back and I could see specks of soft brown.

Placing her food down, she didn't even flinch. She didn't have headphones on, so I knew she heard the slight noise that emitted from the plate grazing the table.

"Hello…" I whispered under my breath.

She didn't look at me. Walking closer, I leaned in and tapped her shoulder.

She didn't move.

She just sat there as if she were a statue and continued to stare at nothing.

The door slid open, and Bradley appeared. Jerking me away from the young woman, I could hear his breathing change. I quickly grabbed my cart and moved closer to the door, but then I froze as I watched Bradley linger behind.

What is he doing?

He bent over and dropped to his knees, sitting eye-level with the young woman. Oh my goodness, is he about to do something intimate with her? My stomach tossed as I blinked rapidly, knowing I'd intervene if he dared to touch her inappropriately.

But then he whispered, "I love you, sis. I'm so sorry. I tried everything. There's no way out of hell." His words shattered me, and the air from my lungs dissipated with the realization that Bradley was working here because of her.

His sister was one of the caged girls.