Nightingale Page 15

  June wondered if Cassy had been right all along, that June’s insistence on finding out what had been happening at that cursed place, even if only to gather just enough information to protect herself and Eleanor and the rest of them, was going to be her death sentence in the end. She thought of all the times nurses would stare at her wherever and whenever she was trying to convince her new friends to wake up and smell the coffee.

  Maybe she’d done this to herself: death at last, after everything that she’d been through, after not growing up to do something great after all. She’d been so sure there was a relevant purpose for her in store, a destiny that now couldn’t be further away from becoming reality.

  My story, my story, I miss my story...

  They walked past many doors. More rooms? June thought, astounded. Were there patients in them that she’d never seen before in the other part of the hospital? Nurse Joya finally stopped in front of a door that was a different shade of gray than the others.

  “Here we are,” she announced, swinging the door open. June flinched, ready for anything, from the doctor to a surgical table to a monster with appendages coming out of the holes in its face.

  But it was only Robert after all.

  He sat behind a simple table in the middle of the bare room, his hair combed and gelled to the side like it always was. He wore his work suit and was fidgeting with the edge of the sleeve. When he saw June, his eyes lit up as if they were meeting at an ice cream shop or on a park bench. He stood and went to her, drawing her into a hug, holding her close. She could smell that he still wore the same aftershave.

  “Wow!” he exclaimed under his breath. “You sure have lost a good bit of weight! You look wonderful, darling.”

  June was absolutely goddamn speechless.

  “What—what are you doing here?” was all she could manage to stammer after he pulled away. It was really him, really Robert from the outside world, from her old life, standing there in front of her. June felt like she was in some sort of science fiction simulation. Why would the hospital allow them to speak when June could expose them?

  She looked back at Nurse Joya, who was watching with a thin grin. “You two have a good time catching up,” she said before closing the door. To their right, June saw an unusually large mirror built into the wall. She knew, instantly, that there were people behind it watching them both, listening in. It didn’t matter. She had to try, for herself and for Eleanor. This might be the only chance June would get during her time here—one last opportunity to rise up and meet her destiny like she’d always believed she would.

  “Robert,” June whispered after she’d sat down on the opposite side of the table. She didn’t know why he’d even come to see her after they’d last seen each other at that party, the night before her admission. She figured that she’d never see or hear from him again after everything that had happened. “There is something horribly wrong with this place.”

  “I know it’s nothing like living at home,” Robert re-assured her, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “But we’ve been happy to hear that you’ve made a little progress.”

  Progress.

  “I’ve only seen the doctor three times,” she emphasized under her breath, keeping strong eye contact with Robert, willing him not to look away. “The way they treat us in here, it’s like we’re animals. It’s not a legitimate hospital, Robert. It can’t be.”

  “Of course it is,” Robert said. “I know it’s been rough. You’ve been through...a lot, June. It was hard for me to understand at first, but what happened that night wasn’t your fault.”

  The party had taken place only three weeks or so after graduation, after the night June’s parents found out about the scholarship and she’d thrown a fit over Dad trying to grab her story from her suitcase. June had thought by then that her situation couldn’t ever possibly get any worse than it already was. But then it had.

  And everybody saw it happen.

  “Please,” June said, closing her eyes to try and stifle the memories that were now front and center. “We can talk about what happened later, and I do think we should, but please, please listen to me. Girls are dying.”

  “I know you’ve had some challenges,” Robert said sullenly. “I heard that another patient who you were close with committed suicide. Awful, just awful. You poor thing. Promise me you’ll never end up that way.”

  The room felt warmer than it had when she first came in. June wished she had left her sweater in her room.

  “Listen,” he kept on. “There’s something specific that I came here to tell you. Something to hold on to while you heal.”

  “What could you possibly tell me that will do any sort of good?” June said.

  He regarded her in an almost amused way, like she was a puppy who wanted a bone, or an adorable child throwing an unconvincing tantrum. Silly girl, his affectionate gaze said. Stupid girl.

  “I’m going to wait for you, June,” he said, raising his voice in just the slightest. “Despite it all, everything that’s happened... I still love you, and I don’t blame you for anything. I know you must still love me, too. We belong together, June. We need each other...”

  “Robert!” she cried, exasperated. “Please.”

  “And when you get out of here,” he continued, hurriedly, like he’d rehearsed this in his head and was desperate to get it all out, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I’m not going to get out of here, Robert.” The lump in her throat was making it hard to talk. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you, what you fail to understand. This isn’t the sort of place that helps people! They’re never going to let me out if you don’t do something. Have me forcibly removed, have my parents sign me out—surely they can do that, can’t they?”

  Get me out of here, get me out of here, get me out of here...

  “Oh, but...” Robert looked like he didn’t know what to say. “Um, they wouldn’t want to do that. Sign you out, I mean. You’re...not quite better yet. They told us about your progress, though, and that’s great. It really is.”

  “Better,” June repeated then exhaled, incredulous. “What does that even mean, you idiot? Did you hear me say that in all these weeks I’ve only seen a doctor three goddamn times?”

  “Your hysteria...” Robert knit his eyebrows together, and his mouth thinned. “It’s taken over you, completely. Your parents admitted that you had some sort of fit leading up to the party, some sort of breakdown over wanting to leave town for a writing retreat. We think it all may have been building up for quite some time, maybe even before that.”

  June thought of the period she’d been locked up in her room after her parents discovered her plan. She thought of how bad she’d felt, how bad she’d acted. It was natural to be so upset, she told herself for the millionth time. Nobody would have been able to handle such a situation with grace and dignity.

  “I don’t blame you for what happened,” he said again. “Even though you must think everyone does...”

  “Of course they do,” June shot back, rising a little bit but keeping her hands on the table. “I heard them all say it. I heard you say it, too.”

  June became hyperaware of the big two-way mirror. She realized with discomfort that she and Robert were talking about the very subject that Nurse Joya had seemed so desperate to know about during the sessions. June had tried to deny it before, but there had been something about what happened at the party that was a sign of something bigger.

  What a brain you have, June Hardie, the monster in the tunnel had said to her. What an absolute marvel!

  Was it possible that the hospital had set this visit up in order to get whatever it was they were looking for? Further, and a chill went up June’s back at the thought, what would they do once they had the information? Once they had no more use for her?

  She thought of Lauren. And Simpson.

  “Listen,” J
une said to Robert, changing her tune. “I’m really happy to hear that you’ll wait for me. I’m glad you reached out and arranged this visit in order to tell me that.”

  “Well.” Robert gave out a spiritless little chuckle. “It wasn’t me that arranged it, but I’m happy that the medical personnel did.”

  I knew it. “Shit,” June whispered.

  “They just thought you might like to hear that you could come back to us one day, June,” Robert said, oblivious as always. “You could come back to your family and me if you beat this thing—”

  The door behind June opened, and Nurse Joya stuck her head in. “Time’s up,” she said sweetly. “We need to move this along if you’re going to see your parents, too.”

  At one point in her life, June had wanted nothing more than to get away from Robert Dennings. And yet, when the nurse (she’s not a nurse) with the perfect blond bun and the red lips was ushering him out of the room, June wanted nothing more than to go with him.

  “Robert,” she cried out, breathless, “help me!”

  He gave her one last wink. “We’ll be together again soon, darling. Don’t you worry.”

  The door closed behind them and June was left alone in the room. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, saw how sweaty her face was, how wild her eyes. Trembling, she sat back down at the table and folded her hands over themselves in her lap. The emptiness weighed on her as she anticipated seeing her parents. What if it still wasn’t them? What if it was still the things from the kitchen that morning? No, that couldn’t be possible. She had to get out of here—she had to get out right away!

  What if the things in the kitchen that morning were them all along? What if you made a mistake?

  The more June thought about it, the more frantic she became, and the more she pushed herself to think her way around it until it made some sort of sense. She certainly had been going through a lot at the time. Robert’s words came back to haunt her: Your hysteria... It’s taken over you, completely. She’d never thought of herself as depressed, just miserable, which really on paper made it sound like she should have known. But even in her worst of times, she’d had things to keep her going, to give her joy and hope for better times. The stars. Her dreams.

  Her story.

  She had to stop herself from crying. Her parents were coming to see her. Maybe, within an hour, everything would be fine. Maybe she’d be out, maybe she’d be finding ways to get Eleanor out, and Adie and Cassy and Jessica. Had Simpson really died here? Had Lauren really been discharged? Nothing felt real anymore.

  The door opened again, and June’s heart caught in her throat. Nurse Joya stood to the side, propping the door open, grinning as June’s mother and father stepped into the room. Mom was wearing a white dress with a green belt that June had never seen before, and Dad was wearing slacks and a polo shirt. Neither of them made eye contact with June as they scuffled to their chairs and sat. Mom looked at Dad, nervously, and he gave her knee an assuring squeeze. The nurse backed out of the room and closed the door without a word.

  Then they both looked straight at June.

  “Hello,” Mom said, and June felt like something was off right away.

  You could just be having a reaction of some kind, she reminded herself. There’s no way your parents could have somehow been taken away and replaced with something else.

  “Hello,” June said, willing her lips not to quiver. “I miss you. Please take me home.”

  “June,” Dad said softly, so softly it could not have really been Dad. Dad never spoke softly; he only barked or yelled or stayed silent. “You know we can’t do that yet, honey.”

  “Why not?” June’s eyes welled, stinging. “I understand everything that I did wrong. How I made things hard for you two, how I was a difficult daughter, how I ruined everything. I can’t wait to make it up to you. Please, I can’t wait to be home and cook for you and help take care of your errands and—”

  “But honey,” Mom said, her mouth bright with an orangey lipstick that June detested. “You’re not well yet. The doctor told us all about it.”

  “The doctor doesn’t know anything.” June cast a side glance at the mirror, almost hoped the jerk was listening. “In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve only seen him three times.”

  “Oh, June,” Dad said, disappointment lacing his still-gentle voice. “You don’t have to lie to us anymore.”

  “Lie?”

  “You’ve always lied,” Mom explained, emoting with her hands. “You’ve always lied about yourself to us, about who you are and what you like. You lied about what you were going to be doing after graduation—well, you tried to anyway. You lied about feeling better. You lied about everything.” She cleared her throat, cast a sideways glance at the mirror on the wall. This was when June noticed that her eyes were blue instead of green. Her mother had green eyes. This woman had blue.

  “How are we to know who the real you is?” the Mom-thing went on. “Has any of it been authentic, dear?”

  “You’ve always struggled,” Dad said. “You’ve never been happy.”

  Her real parents had never believed that June’s mood was anything significant. They had always glossed over everything, even her breakdown the night of graduation. Any upset she’d ever had was something to be controlled and reeled in and crushed, period. These things were no more her parents than Robert was her husband.

  “Get me out of here,” June whispered. “Get me out of this hospital, and I’ll do whatever it is that you want.”

  “What we want, honey,” the thing in the white dress said, “is to help you get better, no matter what it takes. When you’re supposed to leave this place, you will.”

  “And Robert will be ready for you,” the thing in the slacks and polo shirt added with a gentle smile. “Just keep doing well, Junebug.”

  It took everything in June not to scream. She nodded, fidgeting with her hands under the table. “You know,” she said, licking her lips. “I don’t think I feel very well. I’m very tired.”

  “Don’t you want to know how everything is going at home?” Mom-thing demanded, a little shrilly. “You don’t seem happy to see us at all. They said you’d be happy to see us.”

  “I am,” June lied, and a tear fell down her face. She wiped it away as quickly as she could but knew they had seen it.

  The door reopened then, and Nurse Joya popped her head in with that maddening grin.

  “Time’s up.”

  the institution

  Instead of leading June back to her room after her parents were gone, Nurse Joya announced to June as they retraced the newly discovered hallway that her next appointment would take place immediately.

  “You seem to be very caught up on how little you’ve seen the doctor,” Joya remarked as they went through the recreation room. June saw Eleanor sitting in her usual spot with the others. When their eyes met, Eleanor looked like she could burst into tears of relief. Adie, Jessica, and Cassy all followed her gaze but didn’t betray any noticeable reactions at the sight of June. “So we went ahead and bumped you right up the schedule.”

  June mouthed I’m okay to Eleanor and followed the nurse, even though she didn’t feel very okay. Her parents still weren’t her parents. Robert didn’t seem to understand or notice anything. Nobody was going to help her get out of here—she’d have to do it all by herself somehow. She’d have to convince them. She’d have to.

  “We’re going to try something a little different today,” Joya remarked as they neared the massive wooden door. “I think you’ll like it.”

  June found that her knees were weak. What if they were going to lobotomize her? Her breath quickened as the door was opened to reveal the strangely patterned carpet and heavy furniture and wrinkled old man sitting behind the desk. The white wooden chair was in its place. Joya motioned for June to sit.

  “So, today,” the nurse said e
xcitedly, perching on the side of the desk, causing the skirt of her dress to ride up above her thighs, as the doctor stared ahead, expressionless. “We’re going to play a little game of sorts. It’s called the Talking Cure.”

  June waited silently for instructions. The idea of playing anything with these two was enough to make her chest tighten. She no longer knew how she could approach saying the right thing to get out: she felt too scared that they were never going to release her, and would cut into her brain enough to mess her up for good once she spilled whatever it was they were after.

  What if they’re after nothing except wellness? a strange voice suggested in June’s head. What if the vision in the tunnel was truly just a drug trip? Or—the voice got stranger, severely suggestive—what if you’re so unwell that you’ve been lying to yourself about everything that’s happened here, as well as everything that happened in the days before you arrived? What if this entire nightmare has been a horror show of your own making? What if none of it is real and you’re too far gone to ever be saved?

  June almost shook her head to get the voice to shut up. She didn’t recognize it; it wasn’t like her usual internal voice. She didn’t like it at all. It made her stomach feel funny, and her mind, too.

  “I’m going to say a word,” Joya said, and the doctor gave a faint smile. “And when I do, I need you to say whatever comes to your mind, immediately. Don’t hesitate, don’t think too much about it. Don’t be embarrassed. We’re not here to judge you, sweet pea, so please let us help you as much as we can by being honest.”

  “Okay,” June tried to say, but her voice cracked. The vulnerability and paranoia felt like they were pulling tiny threads from June’s body one at time, each causing her to fall apart just a little bit more. With this feeling came the knowledge that, at one point, a single one of those threads would become one thread too many, and would leave her split wide open and fallen to pieces on the floor.