The monks’ living quarters resembled an abandoned council office. The monastery had been active until the late 1980s and so the living quarters hadn’t been able to escape a safety door and carpet tile renovation. A corridor stretched out before them with doors on the one side leading to each monk’s room. Next to Thea was an old noticeboard, the sort that was covered by sliding Perspex that locked with a key. There was a lone notice left, reminding everyone of the fire evacuation route and a cluster of pins huddled in one corner, ready and waiting to never be used again. A fluorescent strip light hung at a drunken angle just above their heads.

As the security team went first, opening doors and flashing torchlight around, Ethan and Thea followed.

‘How’s Rosie?’ Ethan asked.

The carpet squelched under Thea’s feet and, when she touched it, the plaster on the wall felt springy and alive.

‘They say she’s doing well. There doesn’t seem to be any damage to her brain, at least, and her other injuries are healing.’

Still the machine beeped, still Rosie had not moved.

‘So? What’s Phase Two like?’ Thea whispered to Ethan.

‘Well, it’s like … sleep.’ He peered in through an open door. ‘I slept for the whole night. No nightmares, nothing. There was some wave music stuff at the start, or whales, or something.’

Thea stared into one of the rooms. A plant grew in through the window, its narrow leaves like fingers reaching up. The bed was still there but the slats were broken and jagged and black mould darkened the walls. It was a bare, miserable box. Maybe the monk who had lived here had been jolly and well-liked, maybe he’d told jokes to the other monks and believed in a just and fair God. Maybe, though, he had been cruel and twisted out of shape, maddened by the silence, thinking a loving God would forgive him no matter what he did.

Thea couldn’t get the tremor out of her voice: ‘Ethan, I didn’t sleep. Again. And I don’t feel terrible for it; in fact, I feel fine.’ She paused. ‘I can’t help thinking how Delores could just start testing on me whether I said I was leaving or not.’

Ethan remained silent but gently moved her hand away from her temple. She’d been scratching at the disc and the skin around it felt sore.

‘Don’t you just want to get these bloody things off sometimes?’ she said.

Ethan tapped his torch against his hand thoughtfully. ‘You know, a week or so ago, I’d have said yes. If you’d left then, I’d have gone with you. But today? After the night I’ve had. The sleep. I feel … God, I can’t explain it. I just don’t want to go back to how it was.’