I stood, cold and shivering as I stripped, with elusive truths whipping around my tattered mind. I knew what it was to drown then, for I nearly did. Plunged into the dirty water and held there, then yanked by my hair, sputtering and gasping, I was chilled enough to believe I’d never be warm again. “Say you’re not a pianist.”

“What?”

“Doctor’s orders. Say it—I am not a pianist.”

“I will not lie!”

Down under the icy water I went, hair floating around my face, until I forced my head above water again and drank in the air.

“Say it.”

“It’s not true.”

Down I plunged again, bubbles escaping my mouth, which had barely closed after my angry words. Seconds ticked. My heart thumped. Panic tightened. I tried to force my head up, but her wiry arm held it down. Finally she pulled me up, and I gagged and coughed on the sting of inhaled liquid.

“You’re making it harder on yourself, girl. Say it and I’ll be able to let you out.”

“How dare you—”

With a grunt she shoved me back under and held me there until I scrambled, clawing and scratching for air. I came up spitting mouthfuls of water. It was inside me too. Every cough tore through my lungs and made me need to cough more. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Say it, or I’ll hold you longer.”

“You’ll kill me!” I sputtered and gasped.

“People die all the time.” But a flicker of doubt shadowed her features. Perhaps she was new. Not fully evil, but one who followed orders. Just as controlled and confused as many of the patients here. The fight went out of me as I caught a few breaths of steady air.

“Well?”

She made to shove me down and I clamped onto the sides of the tub. “I’m not, I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“I’m not a pianist.” How odd those words tasted, dulling my very soul. Pulling me down into the pit of this place like mud around my ankles so I might never leave.

She narrowed her eyes. “Again. Louder.”

My whole body shook. “Please. A towel.”

“Louder. We need to know you mean it.” She wiped a bare arm across her forehead. “It’s for your own good.”

I was angry for her. For me too. This place was a trap. I sat straight and spoke from down low, and I felt those words even as I quaked, teeth chattering. “I am not a pianist.” Water dripped from my hair. Moments passed. Then she nodded and dropped a towel just outside the tub. Relief smoothed through her features, but I felt more twisted up than ever.