Chapter Twenty-Two
“ D r. Wright.” Ezra is frozen in place, his mouth opening and shutting multiple times as he struggles to find words. “I can explain.”
“Go on, then,” she says. “Explain to me why you appear to be running an undocumented, unapproved experiment in one of my labs over the weekend. Involving an outsider who I’m quite sure is not approved to be in a subject’s room.”
She’s not looking at me, but I still feel the full weight of her judgment. Ezra’s face colors.
“This is for one of my subjects,” he says. “You don’t understand—”
“You’re right. I don’t. Because you didn’t give me a chance to understand it.” Dr. Wright folds her arms over her chest, fixing him with a full glower. “Did you really think you could get away with this? That I wouldn’t notice? I was willing to ignore to some of the discrepancies because I trusted you, and I thought you would come to me soon enough. But when I noticed that someone else used your keycard while you were in a meeting with me, and the cameras were shut off…” Dr. Wright finally glances at me. “Giving unauthorized access to a patient’s room is beyond the bounds of what I consider acceptable, Ezra, no matter how much trust I’ve placed in you.”
I go rigid. So does Ezra. But though he could easily blame the stolen keycard on me, he says nothing, his jaw set.
“Whatever this is, it’s over now. If I can’t trust you to handle your responsibility, then—”
“Dr. Wright—”
“It was me,” I blurt. “I stole his keycard. He didn’t know.”
Dr. Wright turns to me. “And who exactly are you?”
“Gwen Bailey,” I say. “I’m a ghost expert Ezra brought in for consultation.” I clench my hands at my sides. I can’t let Ezra take the fall for this. Even if it means never seeing Dorian again? a traitorous voice whispers in the back of my head, but I push it away. “He came here today to confront me because he realized I kept using his keycard to come here after hours. None of it was actually him.”
Dr. Wright scowls at me, and then at Ezra. “Whether that’s true or not, you’re responsible for the people you bring into our facility,” she says. “Consider yourself lucky that I’m not firing you on the spot. You disappoint me, Ezra.”
* * *
I’m numb as the security guard takes my ID card. My shoulders are slumped, my eyes on my shoes. I can’t even summon the energy to argue about it. What’s the point? It’s all over, anyway. It would’ve been over even if we hadn’t been caught by Ezra’s boss. Because Dorian will never be allowed to leave this place. He admitted that he killed my parents.
All I can think is: Why?
Dorian isn’t a fool. He may be scattered and out of his mind sometimes, but not enough that he’d be oblivious to what his admission of guilt meant. Even if it’s true, why admit it? The question plagues me as security escorts me off the premises of the MRF.
Ezra walks with me. “I have to come back to talk to Dr. Wright,” he mutters as we go, not meeting my eyes. “But I’ll drive you to your car first.”
We spend the ride in silence. When we finally reach my car, still waiting in front of the house we fled a few hours ago, we both sit for several long moments.
“You should go somewhere safe,” he says. “I’ll come back and deal with the house after…whatever happens.”
He still won’t meet my eyes. When I reach for his hand, seeking reassurance, he flinches away.
I recoil, shocked.
“Ezra,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says, looking away. There’s a hard set to his jaw that I’ve never seen before, and the tremble in his lower lip betrays him. I realize with a shock that he’s crying. “You were right. Everything you said before. I’m just…a coward, through and through.”
I stand frozen in shock. I said that? I had almost forgotten about the way I blacked out before I ended up in the cell with Dorian. I assumed I was acting like myself still, begging Ezra until he brought me to the MRF, but…
“I didn’t mean that,” I say, the excuse weak even to my own ears. “I wouldn’t even be here without you.”
“It’s not enough.” He covers his face, shoulders shaking. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough. I thought I could change things at the MRF if I did this right, but… Now I’ve failed Dorian like I’ve failed so many times before.” He sucks in a shaky breath and lowers his hand, looking at me through reddened eyes. “Did you…get the answer you needed, at least?”
I stare at him—lost, helpless, defeated. I don’t know what to say—how can I admit to him that we’ve been wrong this whole time? That Dorian is a killer and he will never be released as we hoped? So I say nothing.
He looks away. “Right,” he murmurs.
“So it’s over?” I ask, my voice quavering.
“You heard Dr. Wright. Maybe I can bring you in again, eventually. But…” He shrugs, looking lost.
Despair weighs on me. I know that won’t happen. Even if I do get approved as a consultant again, it will mean no more secret late-night sessions, no more sneaking around with the cameras off. Being honest with Dr. Wright about the nature of our activities would involve both of us telling the MRF the truth about our powers, which would be an enormous risk. Even if Dr. Wright is sympathetic enough not to lock us up on the spot, we can’t trust that it will be the same for all the higher-ups. But… “What about Dorian?” I ask. “We can’t just leave him.”
Ezra stares down at the steering wheel. “I’ll continue to look after him as best as I can. Like I did before.”
“But…” I shake my head, unable to form words. “But before, he was on the verge of disappearing. It’s going to happen again, isn’t it? Without me? You said it yourself. I’m his anchor to reality. Without me, it’ll just go back to the way it was. Or worse.”
“I’m sure I can arrange some visits,” he says. “Like I said, I’ll do the best I can, but…”
I stare at him. After all of this, he thinks I’ll accept going back to the occasional visit? Probably through the glass again? No. I won’t accept that. “You told me we were working toward freeing him,” I say, frustration welling up in my tone.
“We were. But now that the MRF is aware of what we’re doing, they’ll… He…” Ezra throws out his hands in a helpless gesture. “We still don’t know if it’s safe to set him free, Daisy. I saw his hands around your neck. That conversation didn’t go the way you hoped, did it?”
My lower lip trembles. I try to form an argument, but I’m not sure what to say. He’s right: Dorian attacked us both. He confessed to the murders. I still believe we’re missing something, but the evidence is stacking up against my old friend.
I don’t even have my own memories to rely on.
Frustrated tears come to my eyes, and I blink them away. “So you’re giving up on him.”
Ezra’s expression cracks. “No. Never. I’ll see what I can do for him. But if he’s going to be trapped forever, maybe it’s kinder to let him pass on, Daisy.”
I nod. But in my heart, I’m already steeling myself. I’ve lost Ezra, and I’ve lost Dorian, and any hope of the MRF’s help.
I’m in this alone. Maybe I always have been.