I look up. It’s Dr. Rayburn. His lab coat’s buttoned crookedly and his shirt’s poking out the zipper of his fly. He doesn’t answer. My belly fills up with liquid lead.

The gurney squeaks to a stop. When I’m able to lift my head, I see we’re parked in front of the elevator. The glowing red triangle on the control panel sends shivers down my spine. We’re going down. Down toward plan B.

“Don’t!” I scream, hoarsely. “You can’t do this!”

Dr. Rayburn pushes me into the elevator. When the door closes, I lean up, trying to catch his attention. His normally pale face is flushed. One corner of his mouth twitches nervously. He does not look like someone bent on destroying me. “You can’t do this,” I plead. “You’re not a monster.”

He swallows hard and shifts his gaze back to the changing numbers on the control panel. “It’s best if you, uh, don’t talk.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head, leaning forward until my wrists ache against the metal cuffs. “You can’t take me to plan B. Let me go! Please!”

He won’t meet my gaze. “Best if you don’t talk.”

With Rayburn I thought I had hope. Now hope has flown and what I’m left with is the stunning realization that my life is over. I’ll be turned into a living corpse, left to sleep out my days to the rhythm of a heart monitor, my only friends the ghosts of girls who could have been so much. And my mama. I’ll never save her. We’ll rot together in some basement lab while the rest of the world goes on.

“Janine Meemick,” I choke, sobbing. “Can you put me next to her?” At least we could be together. It’s the only thought that gives me a speck of comfort.

Dr. Rayburn looks at me and then flicks his eyes back to the numbers as they light up on the control panel.

Tears slide down my face, into my collar. I think of Auntie, Ethan, and Arn. I think of Bounty, who was someone’s dinner long ago. I think of Clay, whose fault this is. I’ll never see any of them again. Their faces swirl around. I try to remember every facet of their being, what they smelled like, what it felt like to touch them, how much they loved me. Maybe I can bring some of that with me into the darkness. Oh, God, this can’t be it, can it? I’m sobbing uncontrollably when the elevator doors slide open.

We exit the elevator and swing around a corner to a set of double doors. When he pushes me through, I wait for that rotten meat smell, but we enter an echoing warehouse instead. What’s going on?