I missed him the moment he stepped out of the room. I wondered how I’d ever left him in the first place. How had I made myself run from someone who brought me such comfort? Quinn and Bailey. The answer was obvious. The whole reason I was inside this prison was to break them out. I couldn’t forget that. I had to stay focused no matter how often my thoughts tried to creep toward Mason.

Dr. Morton had done nothing but check my vitals and stare at me for the better part of ten minutes. I didn’t mind putting off the blood draw, but after awhile the suspense was getting to me. I couldn’t stay quiet. “Why aren't you doing anything?”

“What do you mean?” He snapped out of his stare.

“You aren't drawing my blood.” I eyed him warily. “Dr. Tardale said you were here to draw my blood again. You asked Mason to leave so you could do it. Why are we just sitting here like this?”

“Oh.” He nodded. “I don’t need to do it.”

"But Tardale said the last sample was contaminated…” I hated that word because it implied there was something wrong with me or my blood, rather than this prison disguised as a hospital. I hated everything about this place from the cold floors, to the colorless walls. Even the lighting gave me a headache.

"We won't be here long enough for him to care, and you would be in for a life of hell if he ever got the results.” He glanced back toward the window. The curtain was blocking it. Had Mason left?

"What do you mean?"

He turned back to look at me. "What was Quinn like as a girl?"

"Excuse me?" I startled at the sudden conversation change.

"What was Quinn like?" He rocked back on his heels.

"Why do you care?" Why was he was asking about my sister when he’d just implied I wasn’t staying in Central for long?

"Because I do." He put his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “Please tell me.”

"She was happy. Or as happy as you can be. She had big dreams." It was strange to talk about Quinn as a child. That reality felt like a lifetime ago.

"What kind of dreams?" 

"I don't see how that matters." I tapped my fingers on the rail of the bed.

"I want to know."

And then it hit me, all at once like a shot to the heart. "You care for her."

He said nothing at first, only watched me, as if trying to decide whether he really had to answer. "I do."

I smiled despite myself. "That's why you aren't drawing my blood." There was always a reason for every behavior even if I didn’t understand. But this I understood. Doing something crazy because you cared for Quinn was something I knew all too well.

He looked down at where my hand rested on the blanket. "There is a plan."

"Bailey deserves a life." She deserved more than just a life. She deserved the best kind of life, but I knew living in a fantasy world wasn’t going to help anyone.

His eyes rose to meet my own. "She does. I will do what I can."

"Thank you." I felt tears sting my eyes. Crying? Now? Maybe it was everything I had bottled up deciding to come to the surface when the slightest bit of hope appeared.

"What about Mason?" Dr. Morton was an expert at conversation change.

"What about him?"

"You care for him."

"I do." I cared about him more than I even wanted to admit to myself. I’d opened myself up to him, and let my heart believe that a different ending was possible for me. Once I opened it, I couldn’t close it.

"As he does for you."

"He does." I knew it now without a question. He’d followed me, and not because he viewed me as his property. I was sure of that. At least with everything else going on, I didn’t have to doubt his motivations. But if it came down to me or Quinn and Bailey, I knew he’d save me, and that meant I couldn’t fully trust his actions.

"He would risk his life for you."

"I would risk my life for him." I would. But only after I knew Quinn and Bailey were safe. Bailey always had to come first. 

He leaned in close. "I want you to know you can trust me."

"Why does that matter?"

"For two reasons." He held up two fingers. "One, Quinn only trusts you."

I smiled. Did he really think so? I often doubted she trusted me at all. Too many years of playing little tricks on her made her doubt me sometimes—but apparently not when it counted. She knew when things were serious, I would always lead her the right way. I only hoped I could do that now. "And the other?"

"You'll understand later."

Later? I was tired of later. I was tired of everything. I looked at the window again; the curtain was still drawn. Mason was still gone. "Why did you send Mason out?"

"Because he needed to get something to Nevers."

"Who is he?" There were so many questions my head was spinning.

"Supposedly the father of all this." He held his arms out wide. Wearing white in the all white room he almost blended in.

"The father of all this? What does that mean?"

"If he is who Tardale thinks he is, he is far older than he looks."

I didn’t care about the man’s age. There were more important things at stake. "What did you give Mason?"

"Nothing we can do anything about now."  

"Is that really your answer?" I sighed.

“Fine, you want to know more? There were names. Names of those who cannot be moved.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned on me. “Of the other women here…”

“And children…”

My heart hurt. It was a deep hurt that had me holding on to the bed rail for support. I closed my eyes.

“But we will get them out. Not now. Later.”

It wasn’t good enough, but I would have to accept that answer for now. Because to fight would mean risking Bailey. Once she was safe, I could come back. I would come back. "So no blood work?"

"Not your blood.”

“Then whose blood?" I shuddered, wondering who would be the stand-in for me.

"A place holder."

"Who'd you take it from?" Anger and guilt racked through me.

"No one unwilling."

"That doesn't help."

"Look, Kayla.” He leaned over me so his face was mere inches from mine. It wasn’t in an intimate way but more out of desperation. “We need to get Bailey out of here. Let me do what I have to do to make that happen."

I nodded. I couldn't do anything else. We had to get Bailey out. "Are you from the system too?"

"By too do you mean like Mason?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"I am, but I don't remember every detail."

"Maybe one day you will." Life was full of ‘maybe one days’.

"Maybe one day." He looked off. "I need to check on some things. Be ready."

"I've been ready since the moment my sister and niece were taken away."

"You've been ready since long before that." He turned and strode out of the room.