She’s so innocent and sweet that I try a smile. My face won’t allow it. The only way I want to see this hospital is in my rearview. Then I remember that my mother was supposed to be here.

“Yeah, show me around. I’m dying to see it.”

She pulls out a small rectangular device that looks like a miniature computer. With a swipe of her finger the screen flares to life. She waggles it in front of me. The screen shows a map of the hospital. She points at a green dot on the screen. “This is you.”

When I look up puzzled, she tries again, slowly like I’m a baby. “They’re tracking you. Here, let me show you.” She heaves herself out of the chair, waddles over and presses a finger to the back of my neck. The skin there aches.

“They implant a tracking device in here,” she says, pressing just below my hairline. “It embeds itself into the skin and runs off the thermal and kinesthetic energy of your body.” She notes my confused look and tries again. “They know where you are. All the time. So don’t mess around. If you dig that one out, they’ll just put a new one in. So don’t.”

Satisfied, she waddles to the little box on the wall. She pushes a button and the speaker crackles to life.

“Yes?” that nasal male voice asks. The chubby doc is listening to our conversation.

Betsy leans toward the speaker, her cheeks flushing red. “Dr. Rayburn, she agreed to take the tour. Can you send in a guard?”

In a few minutes, one of the guards walks in. He releases my restraints and replaces them with metal handcuffs. When he’s done, Betsy heads for the door. It buzzes and slides open.

Betsy claps her hands. “This is so exciting. Your first tour. Let’s start at the lounge.” She waddles out of the room and down the hall. I follow, feeling as though I’m walking into someone’s sick dream.

The halls are white, bare and sterile. They smell powerfully clean. A doctor in a white lab coat brushes past us without a second glance. Then a guard in his white jumpsuit. Apparently the three of us on our tour aren’t as much of a spectacle as I thought. I count the steps down the hall, memorize every metal door with the little window similar to mine. When I make my escape, I’ll need to know every detail.