TRIGGER WARNING: This story includes scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Chapter 30: Brianna
Where the hell are they keeping him?
Brianna squinted at the cryptic signs, trying to make sense of the maze they were in. Brad’s ward had to be nearby — but they seemed to be going in circles.
The staff were no help. They moved like ghosts with jobs — quick, silent, never meeting her eye. Like they didn’t even see her. Perhaps they had more important things to worry about than two visitors with no sense of direction.
“I’m sure we’ve been here already.” Mom scratched her head, looking as lost as Brianna felt. A team of doctors and nurses brushed past them, pushing a bed carrying a frail old man, who looked (and smelt) like he’d seen better days. Then they burst through the swinging double doors at the end of the corridor, muttering medical terms Brianna didn’t understand.
A wave of anxiety washed over her. Mom had said Irene had sounded pretty upset on the phone, but she hadn’t even bothered to ask how bad it was. What if he was in a coma? Or had a brain injury? Internal bleeding, or some other life-threatening injury?
Another question lingered in her mind, and Mom was probably wondering the same thing:
What if Noah had attacked Brad?
“I think we took a left here last time,” said Brianna, studying the layout of the corridor, the posters on the walls looking vaguely familiar. “Let’s try going right.”
They traipsed along yet another corridor, hoping that, at last, they had found Brad’s ward. The nurses ignored them (and the phone ringing on their desk) as Brianna studied the nameplates on every door. The faint smell of disinfectant mixed with floral air freshener hit her as she maneuvered round a cleaner exiting a storage cupboard, then she saw the name she was looking for: Brad Ames.
She reached for the door handle, but stopped, her hand shaking.
It had taken so long to find this door, but now she wasn’t sure she wanted to see what was behind it. What if it really was as bad as she feared? If Noah was involved, then it would be. He’d shown what he was capable of.
Mom placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here for you, sweetheart. No matter what.”
She took a deep breath, then nodded before Mom opened the door for her.
The room was dimly lit. The thinnest ray of sunlight filtered through the closed blinds, casting obscure shadows on the floor. Irene was leaning over Brad’s bed, holding a cup of water with a straw up to his mouth. She turned, giving Brianna a good look at him.
She gasped at the sight of him, a mixture of relief and anguish. He was sitting up, but barely moving, his face a mess of cuts and bruises, one of his eyes almost swollen shut. His arm hung lifeless in a sling across his stomach. Tubes and wires coiled from his hands, connecting him to a drip and various other monitors and machines, one of which beeped a steady rhythm. He’s alive though, that was all that mattered.
Irene smiled through her tears. “Brianna. How are you, Sweetheart? So good to see you. Look, Brad, you’ve got a visitor.”
Brad managed to look over with his good eye, his voice slurred. “Hey. Didn’t expect to see me… see you so soon.”
“Poor thing,” said Irene. “He’s on a lot of painkillers.”
Brianna approached the bed and squeezed his fingers. “You don’t look so good, big guy.”
“Oh this?” Brad winced as he forced a smile. “This is nothing. You should see the other guys.”
“Other guys?” Brianna’s heart hopped a little. “You know who did this?”
Irene answered for him. “Some horrible bastards from Eastbridge. He’d had run-ins with them before.”
“They live near Keara, never liked me dating her. Weren’t thrilled about me breaking up with her either, apparently.”
“Oh, I’d love to get my hands on them.” Irene gritted her teeth, gesturing with her hands. “I’d wring their f-fucking necks.”
So it wasn’t Noah. Why wasn’t she relieved, though? She was convinced it was him, that he was still somewhere close by — hoped, even. Maybe he had run away, like Dad had guessed.
Mom walked in and embraced Irene in a hug. “Why don’t we go grab a coffee? Give these two some time to chat.”
“Okay,” said Irene, sniffling. “I think there’s a vending machine down the corridor.”
“No, no. There’s a cute little café around the corner. I think you deserve a real coffee — my treat.”
Irene wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. “That’d be nice.”
As they left the room, Mom popped her head back in the door. “Just text me when you’re ready to leave,” she said, closing the door behind her.
Brianna turned back to Brad, looking in horror at his injuries again. “What the hell were you doing in Eastbridge?”
“I… was meeting someone.”
Brianna raised an eyebrow. “Who?” Brad didn’t have any friends in Eastbridge.
“This is awkward,” he said, his eyelid drooping as he looked away. “I had a date.”
“A date?” Her voice gave away her feelings. “With who?”
“Just a girl I met a while ago.”
He’s dating again already? So soon after breaking up with Keara? He didn’t hang around. “Well how did it go? Apart from, you know, getting jumped.”
“Why are you so interested?”
Brianna scoffed. “I’m not! Just making conversation, that’s all.”
“Yeah, conversation about my love life.” A little smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. “Just admit you still care.”
“In your dreams.” She smacked his thigh — gently.
“Plus you came driving down here to see me. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Brianna sighed. He knew her too well. “Of course I still care about you. Don’t look so pleased about it.”
“I’ll try not to. My face hurts if I smile too much.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. In spite of the mess he was in, Brad still had his sense of humor. “This changes nothing — you know that, right?”
He nodded slightly. “I know.”
Brianna squeezed his fingers again. “I’m so glad you’re okay, though.”
Chapter 31: Brianna
Brianna left when Brad fell asleep. She texted Mom to come pick her up and waited outside, shivering in the cool night air, watching goosepimples form on her arms as the rain pelted off the ground. It was a relief to be out of that stuffy hospital, shame Brad was still stuck there though. She’d come visit him again tomorrow, maybe bring him some ice-cream.
The hospital entrance was quiet. A lone ambulance pulled away from the parking bay, and the last visitor finished their cigarette before heading back inside. Mom would be here in a few minutes. Hopefully she’d managed to cheer Irene up a little.
She looked around, watching the odd car pass by, then something caught her eye.
Near the entrance stood a statue, a little girl sitting beside her mother, looking lovingly at the newborn baby her she held. Brianna pulled up her hood and moved closer, tracing her fingers across the wet, patinated ridges.
She’d been utterly fascinated with this statue as a child. Mom had brought her here after falling off her bike, and, after getting several stitches in her arm, she’d just stared at this statue for ages, convinced that she was the little girl. For a long time after that, she’d begged Mom for a little brother or—
“You fucking bitch.”
Brianna knew who it was, but when she turned, her blood ran cold.
Keara stood with her fists clenched, wearing a hospital gown. “Take a good look,” she screamed, gesturing to her bandaged, half-melted face. “Take a good fucking look at what you did to me!”
What I did to her? Brianna frowned — what had Noah told her that night? “Keara,” she said, holding her hands up. “I had nothing to do with the fire.”
“Shut-up! You think I don’t remember?” Her anger flickered, tears welling. “My life is fucking ruined because of you!”
“I’ve ruined your life?” Brianna shouted, incredulous. “Have you forgotten everything you’ve done to me in the past year? You made my life a fucking misery, and that was before the little haircut you gave me last—”
Keara screamed and lunged.
Brianna crashed to the ground. Before she could react, Keara was on her, punching lumps out of her face.
She tried to cover up as another blow smashed into her temple, the force bouncing her head off the concrete.
Her ears rang like a flashbang had gone off. Her vision blurred, but she had to fight back. She reached out with both hands, digging her fingernails deep into Keara’s scarred, leathery face.
Keara screamed as blood poured down Brianna’s fingers. Then, batting her hands away, Keara cracked her across the jaw.
Blackness. That’s all she could see.
Where was she?
What just happened?
It didn’t matter, because right now she couldn’t breathe.
Her eyes shot open. Keara sat on her chest, hands wrapped around her throat. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harvey!”
Panic consumed her. Mouth wide-open, she fought for even a sliver of air, but got none.
The pressure built in her head, her eyes ready to explode. I’m going to die.
Keara’s gritty expression faded out of focus, shadows crept over her, darker and darker, till she was out of sight…
Then Keara screamed.
Not at her.
At something else.
Brianna rolled to one side, coughing and spluttering. She could breathe again, and the air had never tasted so good.
But there was something going on beside her, scuffling on the ground, grunting in pain.
Brianna blinked her vision into focus. Someone had Keara.
It was Noah.
Keara thrashed and shouted as he dragged her to her feet. “Let go of me!”
Then he grabbed her gown with both hands, and shoved.
The statue gave a dull ring.
Keara’s hands fell weak at her sides, legs buckling, but Noah wasn’t done yet. He grabbed her by the head this time.
The statue rang again.
Then came a visceral crunch.
Noah let go, and Keara crumpled to the ground, a lifeless stare in her eyes.
He turned and smiled like he’d just bumped into her on the street. “Hi, stranger.”
Brianna was still catching her breath, watching blood drip from the little girl’s hands, splashing onto the ground beside Keara’s body. “What… what did you do?”
Noah picked her chair off the ground before helping her back into it. “I saved your life. No need to thank me though. It’s partly my fault — I should have made sure she died in the fire.”
Her brain swirled, filled with questions that struggled to find their way to her lips. “What are you even doing here?”
Noah crouched in front of her, brushing a hand down her cheek. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I should probably go. The police will be here eventually. Plus, I don’t think your mom will be too pleased to see me, now would she?”
She looked away, unable to bear his gaze. He knows I told them.
Noah kissed her on the forehead, before strolling away, leaving her alone beside the bloodbath.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He stopped and turned, giving her a coy smile. “Nowhere, really.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter 32: Jill
Jill closed her office door, dampening the sound of tormented, never-ceasing wails from Subject #26. She was so used to them now, that they barely registered, and even less so today, because something else was bothering her.
It had bothered her since last night — she’d worked even later than usual because of it.
When she’d got home, it had made her luxurious sofa feel like a concrete slab, her nightcap taste like vinegar. She couldn’t even concentrate on her favorite TV show, the one she’d looked forward to all week.
It was the reason for her sleepless night. She’d needed a second coffee to properly wake up this morning.
It was still on her mind when she’d got into work, so much so that she cancelled all her morning meetings.
One question had taken root, and it wouldn’t let go.
Who was Subject #27?
She’d seen it on the console, clear as day, but no other details were listed. The other fields for name, date of birth, treatment details were all a nonsensical jumble of letters and numbers.
Noah was the one who’d registered the new subject — stupid boy had left himself logged in. What had he been up to?
She’d headed back upstairs to her office, and, with a few clicks of her mouse, had accessed the surveillance footage for the whole building. She’d scrolled to the recordings from earlier that night, and double-clicked. Then her eyes had widened as her computer played that little uh-oh jingle and a pop-up window had displayed a message:
File Unavailable.
How convenient.
Of course, it could be nothing. Noah was an idiot — everyone except Arthur could see that. Maybe he’d just been playing scientist with one of the most sophisticated machines in the entire world.
No. Jill’s gut said there was more to it than that, and her gut was never wrong. One way or another, she’d get to the bottom of it.
She tapped her fingernails on her mahogany desk, waiting for Noah and his mentor, Arthur, to arrive. It had been ten minutes since she’d summoned them, and it took less than six minutes to get here from downstairs. Were they stalling? If so, it wouldn’t help for long. As soon as they walked through that door, and she studied the whites of their eyes, she’d know if they were hiding something.
Come to think of it, Arthur had seemed a little off last night. Tense, twitchy, couldn’t wait to get out of her office. Why had he been in such a hurry?
A gentle knock came from the other side of the door.
Jill cleared her throat and sat up straight. “Come in.”
Arthur stepped inside carefully, hand raised like she was pointing a gun at him. “Morning, Jill. Just me, I’m afraid… Noah called in sick.”
He’s lying, she thought. Maybe not about Noah, but he was definitely hiding something. His voice was softer; that insubordinate tone from the past few months was gone, worry lines crinkled his forehead.
“Sit down, Arthur.”
Arthur did as he was told, then looked up at Jill, his fearful eyes waiting for her to speak.
But she made him wait, staring him down, watching the lying son of a bitch squirm in his seat.
Soon, the silence became too much for him. “How about that rain this morning, huh?”
“I came downstairs to see you last night.”
“Really?” he asked, his light tone a poor attempt at sounding surprised. All he sounded was terrified.
Jill nodded. “About half an hour after we’d spoken. I felt like a few drinks after work, thought you might wanna join me.”
Arthur shrugged. “Must have just missed me. Next time maybe.”
“Maybe. What were you working on?”
“Oh, nothing exciting. Just catching up on some reports.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Reports eh? That seems like something you could have done from home. I thought you’d vowed to be home for dinner more often? Spend some quality time with the wife and daughter.”
Arthur crossed his legs, his hands clasped in his lap. “Yeah, I know, but what can I say? Old habits.”
“Indeed. So, these reports — was Noah helping you with them?”
Arthur blinked. “Noah?”
“Yes, Noah. He was here last night as well, was he not?”
“I don’t know, he might have been. But no, he wasn’t helping me.” Arthur moved to get out of his seat. “Jill, is this going to take much longer, because I have a lot of—”
“So you don’t know anything about Subject Twenty-Seven?”
If there had been any doubt in Jill’s mind that Arthur was lying, it vanished when she asked that question.
Suddenly, Arthur grew pale, like he was aging in front of her. He had the look of someone who’d just remembered they left the stove on, and now thick smoke was filling the room. “What? I don’t—”
“Don’t play stupid, Arthur. It doesn’t suit you. You and Noah were up to something last night, and you’re going to tell me what it was.”
“Jill, whatever this is, I don’t know anything about—”
“It’s Brianna, isn’t it?” Jill said, thinking back to what he’d said to her in this very office last week. How much longer are you going to make me watch her suffer?
Arthur’s lip trembled. “What?”
Jill grabbed her keyboard and smashed it off the desk repeatedly, plastic keys flying across the desk like shrapnel. “Subject Twenty-Fucking-Seven! You snuck her in here last night, didn’t you?”
Arthur shook his head. “No!”
“Got your little lapdog to help you. I saw the console, Arthur.”
“Jill—”
Jill shot to her feet, her chair crashing to the floor behind her. “Do you realize what you’ve done! I told you, I fucking ordered you to wait. I’d have helped you eventually — you know I would have. But no, Arthur knows best, as always. What do you think Marcus will do to us when he finds out? What do you think he’ll do to her? We’re fucked, Arthur. Fucked, because of you and your arrogance.”
The room swayed as she caught her breath, then that all-too-familiar feeling of her lungs not filling as they should came over her. She reached in her desk drawer and grabbing her inhaler, taking two quick puffs as she leaned on the desk. It would take more than that to calm her though.
Arthur sat unmoving, as if waiting for her soften just a little before he attempted to explain himself. “Can I speak now?”
Jill stared. This should be good.
“For the record,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “I don’t know who Subject Twenty-Seven is, but I can tell you that it’s not Brianna.
Jill scoffed. What a nerve he had, to keep lying when he’d been found out.
“I’ll admit, I’ve been tempted. It’s not easy, watching her struggle every day when I know I — we — could help her. But you’re right, it’s too soon. Some day though. And, I promise, I’ll come to you first, do it right.”
In spite of herself, Jill began to feel sorry for him. “Arthur, if you’re lying about this…”
“I swear,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “On my own life, on my daughter’s life, I’m telling the truth.”
Jill studied him. What was she supposed to think? For now, she’d have to take his word for it. The truth would come out sooner or later.
“I hope you are. For both our sakes.”
Author’s Note:
Before we start, let’s all take a moment to mourn the passing of Keara.
Lol, just kidding!
Last week’s cliffhanger was a bit of a red herring. You were led to believe Brad was in hospital because Noah attacked him — but that wasn’t the case. Still, the hospital scenes serve two important purposes:
To remind Brianna that she does still care about Brad (teenagers, am I right?)
To set the stage for Brianna, Keara, and Noah’s final showdown.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on Keara as a character. She’s pretty detestable, sure — but if you think back to just before the fire, we got a glimpse of how tragic her life really was. I have a feeling that, by the end of the story, you may see her very differently than you do now.
Then we had another Jill chapter — our first since Chapter 3 — which jumps back a few weeks to the day after Brianna’s procedure (way back in Chapters 6 and 7). Jill’s suspicions are growing, and Arthur is… well, being Arthur. As the reader, we know he’s lying when he says Brianna hasn’t had the procedure. But is that the only thing he’s lying about?
(Absolutely not — but you’ll have to wait a couple more weeks to find out what.)
If you enjoyed this, please like, comment, restack like your life depends on it.
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A creepy little story I wrote a while ago.
The Birthday Wish
Mom dimmed the lights before following Dad into the kitchen. Not that it made much difference; even the sun couldn’t brighten the dull, depressing dining room.
I’m just waiting for Brianna to unleash her shadow self and go full vengeance mode. Or better yet, realize vengeance is Noah’s love language and stop doubting the sweetness of it. Ideally both.
Brianna sighed. He knew her too well. “Of course I still care about you. Don’t look so pleased about it.”
“I’ll try not to. My face hurts if I smile too much.”
Brilliant dialogue!
Going back to Jill’s office had my suspicions bouncing around like a rubber ball. Excellent stuff. Yes Kiara’s life looked pretty sad - she did well to cover it up with her Queen Bitch’ act. And Aunt Jill sure has anger management issues! Sheesh!