Nora inclines her head. The air ducts faintly whoosh and the lights buzz, but otherwise, she hears nothing, and she says as much.

Ashley tries to bring her hands to her ears, but the chain on the cuffs stops them short. So she leans forward until she meets them, her palms crushed flat against the sides of her head. Her voice comes out as a damp sob when she says, “That doesn’t help.” She claps her hands against her ears again and again, and the chain rattles and chimes with the movement. “It doesn’t help!”

“Forget Albus Crotter for a moment. Let’s go back to Nat. How about you tell me—”

But before Nora can finish the thought, Ashley’s head slams into the table with a meaty thud. At first it appears she has fainted, but a second later she whips herself upright, her dreads tentacling the air. A rashy red mark begins to spread across her forehead.

“Ashley. Are you okay?”

Thud—her head drops again, this time with enough force to split her eyebrows open. For a moment bone peeks out from the two rough vertical slits. Then the blood gushes out, filling her eyes, tracking down her cheeks.

“Jesus Christ. Don’t.” Nora rises from her chair and hurries around the table. “Stop hurting yourself.” But she’s not fast enough.

Thud—Ashley’s face hits the table again, and there comes the sound of crunched cartilage. She swings her body back into an upright position. Her face is a mask of blood and her nose is bent sideways with a fleshy tear at the bridge.

“Ashley!” Nora grabs at her with one hand and bangs at the one-way mirror with the other. “Help! Jenkins!”

Thud. Splintered teeth mash through her lips.

Thud. Her jaw cracks.

Nora tries to hold her back but can’t. She is reminded of the other day when she opened the door of her car and a hard wind forced it from her hand. This feels like that. Elemental.

Thud.

The door crashes open and Jenkins rushes in and only then are they able to contain Ashley, who continues to rasp and dribble the words “No, no, no.”

5

Five Years Ago

The Green Man