Finally, the girl puts her book down. She has gorgeous, amber eyes and long, dark brown curls. She is unnervingly pretty. She raises a thick, arched brow. But I still can’t read her. Like, at all. Sometimes people’s feelings are muddy, but this girl is like a brick wall.

“Yeah, I know what your name is because you told Teresa less than a minute ago,” she says sharply. But while she sounds annoyed, I can’t feel it. “And, you know, if that’s your way of tricking people into telling you their names, you should come up with a new strategy. Because that one is dumb.”

“Don’t mind Kelsey,” Ramona says. “She’s kind of . . . a bitch. It seems like she can’t help it.”

Kelsey’s eyebrows bunch. “Just because I don’t feel like playing doomed Nancy Drew with you assholes doesn’t mean I’m a bitch.” She readjusts herself on the couch and lifts her book again. “They have two days to do their stupid tests and observe us or whatever. At least that’s what my parents agreed to. And that’s it. We’re all just going to have to hope that they don’t implant some shit in us or poison us while we’re here.”

“They said no one with Ebola was ever actually in here,” Teresa says, sitting on the floor now and gripping her knees as she peers around. I am glad the collective static is at least keeping me from reading her. I’d be glad to never again feel what’s going on inside of her. “Do we think that’s true? Maybe they want to infect us on purpose or something. Like Kelsey said.”

“I did not say infect,” Kelsey mumbles. “I said poison.”

“Stop it,” Ramona says, rocking on her heels again. This time it’s three tugs at the bracelet and then three more. A little OCD maybe, but what I feel coming from her is more complicated. It’s mixed with rage, the kind that could make you bully somebody. “Why the fuck would you even bring up Ebola, Teresa?”

“Besides,” Becca points to the security guards. “They’d at least be wearing masks or something.”

“Right, good point,” Ramona breathes. “See, Teresa. Now shut the hell up.”

“What does Ebola have to do with anything?” I ask, and I don’t like how it is ringing a bell with what Dr. Haddox said earlier.

“This part of the hospital.” Becca motions to the room. “Remember when people in the US were getting Ebola a couple years ago? They built it to quarantine Ebola patients. Dr. Haddox told us they never ended up using it because people stopped getting sick.”

“Oh,” I say, and all of that would make sense.