I can’t stand the thought. She has to see me. I almost say something. I swear there’s a whisper of a question: what’s your name? On my lips.

I’m breaking rule number one, and I’ll pay for it. If Mr. Jay steps out of the bathroom behind me, he’ll take me back to the room we just left. He might even punish me in front of the girl, in the room with no cameras.

I don’t care. I can’t stop.

Water runs in the staff bathroom. I have a few more seconds. The girl stares back at me, completely still, not making a sound. I know she sees me, though. Her eyes get a little brighter. Her breathing is a little quicker.

She sees me.

My stomach lurches again and my head gets light. I’m forced to lean against the brick wall. It’s fucking freezing. Suddenly everything is freezing.

The bathroom door opens with a creak behind me and I stand up straight, holding back bile. I turn my head forward and let my face fall into an emotionless mask. I don’t move a muscle, as if I’ve been staring forward the entire time Mr. Jay has been in the bathroom.

I can feel her eyes burning into my skin.

My heart beats loud in my ears. Another few seconds stretch by. All I want to do is look back at her but I don’t.

One day. One day we’ll be out of here. But I don’t know if I can wait that long. If they’re doing to her what they do to me… They have to be stopped. She can’t turn into what I am. They can’t do that to her. I won’t let them.

HALEY

Present day

The woman who sits across from me in my office reminds me of something from school.

I can’t put my finger on who it was, exactly. For a long time, every name I learned there was burned into my brain. That’s what happens when you’re not allowed to get to know anyone else. Those pieces of information are precious and forbidden, so I held them close to my chest.

I remember very clearly how I felt about the things we weren’t allowed to have, like food and privacy and friendships. An opinion. A voice. Whenever I learned something about another student, I hoarded it. Unlike food, those facts couldn’t go bad.

Kelly. My patient’s name is Kelly. As far as I know, there was no Kelly at the school. I memorized every name after we got out. When the files were released, we saw everything unfold.

It’s not her name that reminds me. I think it’s the color of her hair—a dark, natural brunette. The way it’s parted not quite down the center and the softness of her curls.