I stewed over the drawings, taking notes. I would need to do some digging. I made myself a list.
Track down Emily Landing (if she’s alive)
Look through more of Essic’s files
Try to talk to 5B and get more out of him
Search missing kids’ databases
They were all long shots, I knew. Emily Landing could’ve moved away or even died, and if I could track her down, would she even talk to me? Sneaking down to the files and talking to 5B were both risky, especially with Anna’s disproving eyes watching closely. And the databases were like finding a needle in a haystack. I didn’t have real names of the kids, only crayon drawings and the haunting images seared in my brain. I didn’t know who they were, how old they were, or where they were from. Hell, I didn’t even know if they were actually even murdered or reported missing.
Resting my head on my hands, I looked at the clock. It was time to head for my shift. My eyes drooped at the thought, and my soul was weary. Still, I trudged toward the bathroom to slap on some concealer and make myself look presentable, professional, and calm. I needed to keep suspicions low if I was going to play detective. Exhaling, I strolled to my room, too tired to be edgy about what spectral images could be awaiting me.
I stomped toward my dresser, pulling out the cracked wooden drawer with the screech I’d come to recognize. But as I pawed through for my clothes, I paused, my hand gripping the edge of the drawer.
A piece of a satiny yellow dress sat atop the clothes. There were two alarming things about this swatch of fabric.
It was not mine.
It was caked in blood.
I backed away from the drawer, hitting my ankle on the bedframe as I covered my mouth to stifle the sob that was creeping in. Behind me, from the back corner of the bedroom came a high-pitched scream, the kind I’d heard the night before.
Flashes of light, of darkened memories I’d all but rid myself of came flooding back. I turned to confirm what I suspected. She stood there in her blood-soaked yellow dress, the red pigtails still high and the face still indistinct. It was a wash of flesh and blood, melted into a spherical shape. But the screech was distinctive. It was the same one as last night.
“Please, Please,” I shouted through sobs, but I didn’t even know what I was begging for. I grabbed my hair, twisting my fingers.
“Get a grip,” I said to myself, my eyes squeezed shut. It was just another of his kids, of 5B’s sins. Obviously.
Still, as I opened my eyes, relieved to see the being was gone, I couldn’t help but think as I hurriedly got ready and left: Why was yellow appearing when 5B hadn’t even drawn with that color yet?
The reality was too hard to face, so I shoved it along with so many things in my rotten life, to the bottom of a heap of forgotten memories.
The dead might speak, but someone has to listen in order for them to be heard. And in that moment, I was not giving the yellow girl a microphone.
Chapter Seventeen
Iraced to floor five as I tried to beat the clock. I didn’t need to be late for my shift on top of everything else. I painted on the rehearsed smile I’d examined in the rearview mirror before coming in. All was well. That’s what I needed Anna to believe at least. As I dashed to the desk to relieve Brett from his shift, Anna smiled from the A wing.
“Good morning, Jessica. How are you?” she asked sweetly. I tried to brush aside my wanting to analyze her words, her voice, her body language.
“Fine, thanks. How is everything on the floor?” I asked and then realized she was scheduled to start at the same time as me. “Er, sorry. You probably just got here, too.”
She kept the sweet smile plastered. “No, I got called in a little early tonight. We had some resident changes on our floor, so I came in to handle it.”
I perked my head up. “Did someone pass?” I asked, my stomach sinking. I hadn’t heard anything about anyone being eligible for release and, in truth, release was something that usually only came in death for the residents on our floor.
She shook her head. “No. 1A is being moved.”
“Moved where?” I thought of the middle-aged woman who was known as being a biter. According to Anna, she’d violently killed her entire family, including her children. She’d seen visions that told her to do it, landing her at Redwood for the past two years. She was a newbie, by our standards. I couldn’t imagine her moving to a lower security floor, though. Or anywhere, for that matter.
“Away. It doesn’t matter. But now we have an empty spot if we should need it. That’s a major concern, when some of the patients on lower floors act up and we’re all full up here. A real problem sometimes. Our top paying families don’t want their loved ones housed beside violent lunatics, after all.” She shrugged and busied her hands with paperwork.
I stared for a long moment, trying to take it all in. Her nonchalance about the woman moving was unsettling. I wanted more details but was afraid of asking, of looking too interested.
“Didn’t the state place her here?” I asked, realizing how it was odd she wouldn’t have started at a state-run facility to begin with. I’d assumed it had something
