The bit about the lady whispering in Rox’s ear worried me. Hell, all of this worried me, but that part especially. It was the first piece of this strange puzzle that fit into place. Professor O’s experiments all seemed to deal with implanting consciousness into unconscious minds. The homunculus, the feral kids, the clones. It was like he was trying to identify the most receptive vessel for something new to inhabit. John B in that phony orphanage, echolocating into his roommates’ ears at night. Was he creating a pathway for something to enter? Something so powerful it had turned their insides to mush. I could see Rox’s damaged brain being a data set for Professor O to study – that sick bastard. One of John B’s new friends.

Despite her conviction to return, Cassie’s head began to sag after dinner, her eyes became bloodshot slits. I doubt she had slept much since Saturday night, and it had caught up with her, now that she had me to share the burden of stress. We showered together. I picked the twigs from her hair and massaged her body with soapy hands. I would have made love to her again if we weren’t so tired. I was relieved by the lack of bruising or other injuries. Just the cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs from stumbling through the brush. I pulled one of the towels from the window – fuck the teen wolf wannabes outside – and wrapped her tight. Carried her to bed and tucked her in under the covers, shushing her slurred complaints. She was asleep before I could turn off the light. Snoring softly by the time I got in on the other side. At home, we sleep so far apart it’s like we’re in different time zones. This small bed forced us to spoon, something we hadn’t done.… Something I’m not sure we’d ever done, come to think of it. I wouldn’t call our first encounters romantic. Then came the surprise of pregnancy. The obligation of marriage. The petty resentment that followed. The self-absorbed fight for a sobriety I never really wanted, but was required after what happened to Rox.

Her hair was damp against my face. Her body molded to mine in a state of complete acceptance and trust. All these years later, from that chance encounter that I hardly remember, to this night where we need each other to survive. What wars we’d fought together. Strength forged by the fires of our own friction. Our combustible love. And it’s on nights like these where you come clean, isn’t it? In the silent dark. Hidden from speculative eyes. Here’s where I make my confession, then. Retract my addict’s lie, the one I’ve told myself for seven years, and replace it with truth. That bitter fucking pill.

Rox didn’t fall from that crib.

Jesus, Jesus, be with me now.