I always said Aldo should’ve killed the babies when he killed their parents, but he never could quite bring himself to. This is the result. The babies grow up and become problems.
The doctor and I proceed to have a fascinating conversation where I learn all about the travels of Kiro, with Aldo paying for one stopgap measure after another, culminating in his paying for Kiro to be committed to an asylum for the criminally insane.
It seems we have people on payroll in the asylum. He doesn’t know who. It doesn’t matter. Kiro’s there.
I thank him and get a funds transfer going.
Kiro, strapped to a bed in a nuthouse.
Thank you, universe.
Chapter Ten
Ann
Iget backon the day shift and start running my rounds, but the usual trio of orderlies isn’t in the hall outside Patient 34’s room at the agreed-upon time, which is strange. I text one of the guys. He says they’re doing a simulation.
This puts me in a bind, because the guys on highly toxic cocktails need periodic checks according to state rules. If I break state rules, Nurse Zara could write me up.
But if I go in, I’d be breaking the institute rule about the three orderlies.
I decide to go in. State rules trump institute rules, that will be my defense. And it’s not like 34’s going to attack me.
I head in with my cart. “Hey,” I say softly, wanting anything—just a glance, even. To see that warmth in his eyes again. To know I didn’t dream our connection.
Nothing.
“The thousand-mile stare again. There’s a shocker.”
I feel such intense fondness for him. I’ve always admired people who decide on a direction and go for it against all odds. The rebels, the heretics, the true believers, the doomed warriors. Those are the people I love the most. The female warlord in Afghanistan. Unbelievable.
But with 34, it’s something deeper.
I start setting up the kit. “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that. You’re the kind of guy who, when he commits, he really commits, aren’t you?”
I tick off the boxes on my tablet and pull on my gloves.
His dusky whiskers almost qualify as a beard at this point. I rest my hand against his cheek, thinking I should find out who cuts his beard and hair and try to take over the job.
“Update, 34: the plot thickens. Massively. Congratulations, you’re more of an enigma than Easter Island.”
The sound of footsteps out in the hallway. I drop my hand and crane my neck around. Donny.Fuck.
“Why are you in here without proper guard, Nurse Saybrook?” He closes the door.
I sit up. “He needs his vitals checked on a regular schedule. State regs.”
Donny comes up next to me, too close.
“What are you doing?”
He flicks a finger onto 34’s cheek. “Diagnosis—vegetable.”
“What the fuck!” I push his arm away. “Stop it!” I say protectively.
And Donny sees it.Shit.
He grins and flicks 34’s cheekbone this time—hard—leaving a mark above the line of his beard.