The visits from Kelsey were confusing. She was so nice and did whatever she could to help. She was gentle and empathetic. She hadn’t asked for what happened to her and was dealing with it the best she could. In return, I didn’t ask much about her past because it seemed to be pretty traumatic, especially for a young teenager still trying to process things.

I still felt so guilty for offending the one person who seemed genuinely willing to help us, even though over the next few days, she assured me there was no bad blood between us—no pun intended. She came back each day, which was comforting. But once she left, the tension between Mallory and me due to being alone again, returned, as did the waiting for the hospital to awake.

After Kelsey would leave, I’d reopen the curtains and watch the sun move far too quickly across the sky and sink behind the trees at the far end of the property. It was my only way of keeping general track of the time, which felt like countdowns to the gallows.

I couldn’t tell if Mallory was sleeping during these times, trying to sleep, or simply avoiding any extra contact with me. With everything else, I didn’t want to deal with her too—but that was the reason we were in here. The longer we put it off, the longer we’d be subjected to this.

Nurse Oleander entered the room one evening instead of Nurse Dalio, immediately sending shivers throughout my entire body. Everywhere that had felt her wrath began to tingle; my body may have healed, but it remembered.

“Calm down,” she said. “I’m not here for a snack, just to get your day started. Medicine?”

Mallory shook her head, but I was beginning to think it might be a good idea, even if it didn’t have painkillers included.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

Nurse Oleander produced a menacing smile that only affected the bottom half of her face and handed me the vial of purple liquid. I unscrewed the top and downed the contents in one gulp. It was sweet and thick, covering my throat all the way down.

“Are you sure you don’t want your dose?” she asked Mallory again, dropping the empty vial back into her pocket.

“I couldn’t be more sure,” Mallory said, her voice as challenging as ever.

Nurse Oleander shrugged. “It doesn’t help me any.”

Then the vicious nurse led us through the motions of the previous nights, from the cafeteria to the Common Room, where we were given time alone while the vampiric staff watched from the sidelines. I tried to forget they were there—knowing now what they were really there for. It wasn’t to keep us under control; one of them alone could have done that. It was more like browsing the buffet.

The difference this night was the drugs flowing through my system. My head became foggy and I felt myself slowing down, though I didn’t feel drowsy as I would have expected. I was awake but almost detached from my body, feeling less in control. My limbs felt so labored, I’d be even more useless than ever to put up a fight.

When Nurse Oleander walked us back to our room, she had to help keep me steady and not crash into every person we passed.

“You look like you’re drunk,” Mallory said, once we were locked in our room again, away from the company of the vampires.

“I don’t know…” I said. “I feel so weird.”

“Trying to forget what they do to you? Me—I want to remember every moment. I want to remain committed to killing every last one of them.”

“You do know that’s a hopeless cause,” I said. “We lose. That’s what we already know. That’s the constant.” I lay on my bed, barely able to lift my head from the pillow.

“The Society doesn’t know everything,” she said. “They know what happened, but they don’t know exactly what they can change.”

“They’re not all monsters.”

“The ones who fall for them are just as bad.”

“So, you’re giving me another strike?”

“It’s your choice,” Mallory said, hopping onto her bed.

“Yours too,” I said, feeling the words reverberating in midair. I felt like I was sinking into the bed—or the bed was enveloping me like quicksand. The good thing was that I wasn’t petrified of what was coming in that moment, though maybe numbing myself wasn’t the best idea.

Then the door opened and a tall man with short blonde hair stepped into the room wearing a doctor’s overcoat. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, took off his white coat, and hung it from the door latch. “I don’t have long, but I could use a little re-charge.”

He glanced at Mallory, with her knees huddled to her chest, then over at me, splayed out on my bed. After a moment’s debate, the doctor approached Mallory, then ran a hand down her calf.

“Don’t touch me!” she protested, jerking her legs to one side, then balled up her fist and punched him in the face.

The vampire didn’t attempt to dodge the blow, letting Mallory split her knuckles against his jaw.

“Someone didn’t take her medicine,” he said. “Did that accomplish what you’d hoped it would?”

Mallory didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to determine what—if any—recourse was possible. But before she made a decision to even move, he was on top of her, forcing her down to the mattress.

The doctor roared as his fangs elongated and sank into her neck. Again, her limbs flailed as she tried to fight him off, but they did nothing to stop, or even influence his assault. His grip clamped down on her upper arm so tightly, he seemed to be cutting off the blood flow to the rest of her arm. It was quickly turning white.

Mallory screamed, her head forced to one side and her eyes boring into mine with fear and rage, and desperation. I too could not look away and felt tears start to sting my eyes, at first from thinking I would be next, but then from empathy for what she was going through, despite who she was.

The doctor came up for air a minute later, a thin line of blood trickling down his chin. He placed a palm on her chest and pushed off her body. He wiped his chin with a handkerchief from his pocket, then glanced at me.

“Fortunately for you, that’s all the time I have right now,” he said, snatched his coat from the door latch, and left.

Mallory had hidden her face now, but it was clear she was crying. I fought to paddle my way out of the quicksand and spilled from my bed onto the floor. Then I stumbled over to her bed and lay down beside her, draping one arm over her. She didn’t acknowledge my presence and I had no words of comfort, but she didn’t push me away and continued to cry.