Page 97 of The Secretary Volume II
On the other side of the mirrored glass, two attendants step toward the gurney, eyes on the machines.One of them says something under his breath.The other’s already reaching for the IV.
I don’t look again.
I’m already out the door.
No one comes right away, but they will.Someone always does.They’ll check the readings, check the dose.They’ll move her, or sedate her further, or ask questions they already know the answers to.
I slip into the hallway.
Not running.Walking.Walking like I’m expected somewhere else.Like I belong somewhere better.The corridor bends ahead of me.Right leads deeper.Left leads out.
I choose left.
A door at the end.Security glass.Keypad.Camera above it.My reflection flickers in the mirrored panel—pale, tight-faced, wrong.I press the first number I remember from before.
It blinks red.
Again.
Red.
Shit.
There are footsteps behind me now.Not fast.Not running.But coming.
I lean against the wall like I’m waiting for someone.Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.My heart is too loud.Too fast.My hands aren’t shaking but my legs want to bolt.
I hear the door at the far end open.The whisper of a coat.A voice.
Not Ellis.
Worse.
A helper.
“Hey,” he says, halfway casual.“Lose your babysitter?”
I don’t answer.I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat, even if I wanted to.
He’s walking toward me now.Calm.Curious.Like he doesn’t know—but he does.Helpers always know.
“Funny place for a field trip,” he says.
I don’t move.If I move, I’m caught.If I speak, I’m still caught.
He stops about six feet away.
“You weren’t cleared to leave,” he says lightly.“Which makes this either a miscommunication…or a violation.”
His voice isn’t cruel.That’s the worst part.It’s patient.Like this is just a hiccup, a minor misunderstanding.Something that happens all the time.
A small silence opens up between us.
He doesn’t fill it.
He doesn’t have to.
Behind him, two more helpers appear.One with a weapon.One with restraints.They’re not looking at him.
