My chest feels heavy, tight. It’s too late now. She’s putting something inside me. She never told me about it. She must have put it in Hilbert, too. And Ruth. And Pete. All of us. The same thing.

I feel around where the line goes into my arm. It’s covered in see-through tape, which I peel off. I close my eyes and pull the line out, as fast as I can.

Now I’m standing in the hall.

Now I’m walking.

Now I’m looking for her. Shelley.

Now I’m at the bottom of the staircase. I can hear talking coming from another room on the floor above. I don’t need to go down but up. I’m stepping carefully, hoping to remain silent, up the stairs.

There’s a door I’ve never seen leading into a room I’ve never been in. A bright, white, antiseptic light spills from the room. I hear them talking.

“We can’t stop it now.”

“I know that.” A man’s voice. Is there someone else here? Is it Jack?

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“I feel great.”

“You’re looking very well,” he says.

“It took longer than I thought it would,” she says.

I lean closer, trying to see more through the open door, but I can’t.

“I guess because she’s the last, I hoped it was going to be easier with Penny.”

“I did, too.”

“But ease isn’t why we’re here.”

Finally, I’m able to see more, only shadows, but I can tell what it is. It’s the shadows of more IV lines, moving along the floor like snakes, all together. I count, one—two—three—four lines.

I turn back and start down the stairs.

I walk. I walk as best I can. I sit and rest. I walk along the hallway some more.

I end up in the common room, the early-morning light, almost blue in color, not full sun yet. This has always been my favorite time of day because it doesn’t last. I would go to the park just for this magical hour. It’s so easy to miss. Everyone takes it for granted every single day they wake up. It’s only a moment. It’s magical, it’s beautiful.

I look out. I’ve never put my hand on these windows. I’ve never touched them.

I walk in between the barriers of the couch, side tables, and plants. I’m directly in front of the massive windows. When I’m this close to them, the dimensions feel even bigger than I thought they were. Taller and wider. I’ve never been so close to these windows. I feel smaller. It looks so cold out there. There are so many trees out there, so many that we’ll only ever be able to see a tiny part of the forest. A fraction.

A glimmer of light catches my eye, near the bottom of the window. I bend down. There’s a spot on the window that’s slightly brighter. I touch it. It doesn’t feel the way I’m expecting it will. It’s softer. I push my finger harder against it. It… gives. It moves slightly. Its resistance is elastic.