“NOW, WHAT DO WE do with you two?” Dr. Anderson muses, towering over Scott and me. I’m stuck in my chair, eyes glued to the door Hannah was dragged through. A silly part of me keeps waiting for her to come back, any minute now. But I know she won’t. I know she’s gone. That my selfish need to rescue Logan has led Hannah to her end.
Well, the end of Hannah as we know her, if what Dr. Anderson says about this permanent procedure is true.
“You can let us go, no harm no foul,” Scott says, which draws an eye roll from Dr. Anderson. I want to roll my eyes too. Where was this bravado when it came to Hannah’s freedom? “It was just a suggestion.” He skitters back into his shell, looking down at his hands, picking idly at his nails.
“If only it were that easy… with everyone else, their parents signed away their say. We make the choices that are best to their recovery. But you two, since your parents are actively involved in the process, we don’t have that same freedom.” She’s pacing around the room like she’s trying to make a life changing decision, but I get the feeling that the decision is already made for her.
“You have no choice but to let us go, do you? You have to send us back to our parents.” I say, the truth coming clear for me. This should be an exciting revelation. Scott seems reassured by it, anyway, knowing that his father is likely not going to do anything too drastic to him.
But me. My mother. That’s a whole other story. I have no idea what she’ll want to do with me. She’s already agreed to this procedure more than once. Agreed to putting fake memories in my head as well, about my dad. I don’t have the same comfort in this solution as Scott does.
“You are the head of this program, but you don’t have the control over it, do you?” I ask again, and Dr. Anderson doesn’t correct me. “You don’t have to do it, you know. You don’t have to be a part of this if it’s gone beyond what you are comfortable with. There’s still a chance for you to let us go, to walk away, before it’s too late.”
Dr. Anderson frowns at me. For a minute, I think she might have sympathy for me. That maybe she won’t send me back into the lion’s den. But with a little shake of her head, she whistles again and two more guards step into the room.
“Take them back to the Academy. Let their parents deal with them as they wish.”
The guards step forward, yanking us from our chairs. I try to fight, wriggle free, but the hands clamped around my bicep is too firm, I can’t do anything but follow their lead.
We’re taken to an unmarked white van and tossed into the back. There are two rows of bench seats, perfectly designed to transport a number of students to an Institute to be brainwashed, perhaps.
It’s still dark out, we’ve been in the Institute for a good portion of the night. When the guard turns on the van, the clock tells me it’s just past 5 am. I haven’t been awake this early in… my entire life.
I wriggle in the seat to get into a more comfortable position. Scott is quiet beside me. His silence makes the absence of Hannah and Kayla louder. Guilt cuts into my chest, wrapping itself around my lungs. I can’t breathe.
I should have known better than to think my plan would work, that I could get us all in and out of that place. I put my friends in danger, begged them to help me knowing they wouldn’t say no. I’m so selfish and careless and a terrible friend.
And Logan didn’t even remember me. Of all things, that is what I think about. The crushing realization that he was permanently reset, that I was wiped from his mind forever. I wonder if Logan and Kayla made it out safely. I let this tiny hope nourish me because, from the way things seem, it’s the only hope I have left.
I run through the worst-case scenarios in my head. Will I be locked away in the basement and disappear into the stuff of legend, stories whispered between students as a warning? Maybe we will move to another town, start this entire process over again.
Either way, I see no positive outcome for me, no option that sees me going back to school on Monday. If there is even a school to go back to.
The school gates are closed as we pull up. I look out the window at the stone wall, the place that Kayla and Hannah wait for me every morning.
I think of Kayla's as she closed that door. It wasn't cruel, but it was isolating all the same. She saved herself. That's what people are wired to do, right? How can I be mad at her for that? And yet I am, because that door didn't just leave me behind. It cut off my future, the path that saw me get out of all of this in one piece. That saw me with Logan again.
The car pulls through the gates and up towards the back of the Academy. Tears burn at the edge of my eyes. The familiarity of defeat sinks into my shoulders, making them ache with a heaviness I haven't felt in years.
We're met by Headmaster Johnson and my mother. She’s standing a little behind him, her posture stiff and reserved, a hint of that resentment in her eye I've come to know so well. They're standing in front of the red door that Logan and I crashed through when we made our initial escape from the school basement. It's propped open by something, the staircase behind it dark and looming.
The guards get out first. I wait for my door to be yanked open and large, glove-covered hands to reach in and grab me. Drag me out. The other guard grabs Scott from the back seat. Headmaster Johnson seems pained to see Scott in this position, but my mother's expression is harder to read. I can't tell if she's surprised or if she even cares.
Headmaster Johnson steps forward. I think he's going to inspect his son, but he approaches me instead. "Alexandra, I'm sorry to see you here this morning. These... failures in the program, they are not something we are proud of here at the Academy."
"I'm not a failure," I spit out, wriggling my body a little. The guard holding me adjusts his grip slightly but firmly.
"Well, you're clearly not a success. This anger, this disobedience, none of this is what the program represents. We can't have you running around, triggering everyone's memories, resetting people's lives. There are protocols and rules for a reason, and you're jeopardizing everything we have all worked so hard for."
I snort. This is definitely not something to be proud of.
"You and your allies have successfully thrown an awfully expensive and frustrating wrench into our program. And in the process, caused a disturbance in the one place that could make it all better for you, make you forget any of this ever happened."
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This has nothing to do with me,” I offer, trying to stall.
“And yet you’ve led a group of vigilantes to break into a medical facility and risk seriously injuring many sick kids.”
I almost laugh at him calling everyone there sick. No matter what happened in their past, it doesn’t justify what they are doing to them now. “If anyone is sick, it’s not those kids. Besides, that wasn’t me.” I volley back, but his expression doesn’t change. He certainly doesn’t believe me.
“Alexandra, two of my guards brought you here. Dr. Anderson has already called ahead. We clearly know you were at the Institute.”
“Then why are you wasting my time talking about things you already know?” I spit, and Headmaster Johnson nearly throws his hands up in frustration. For a Headmaster of a school full of teenagers, he surely doesn’t have much patience for dealing with one. He collects himself and turns to face me again.
"How about we show each other a little more respect and tell the truth?"
"Does that go for all of us? If I tell you the truth, will you tell me the truth? All of you?" Headmaster Johnson nods quickly, but it's my mother I'm watching. It's her eyes that get a little sharper, untrusting.
I keep focused on her as I confess. “Fine, you’re right. I went to the Institute to rescue Logan. Because I know. I know everything. I know what you are doing to kids there, I know what you did to me.”
Headmaster Johnson was expecting this and doesn’t give me much of a reaction, but my mother’s body reacts on instinct. I see it, briefly she struggles for composure, crumbling a little bit.
I think about what Logan told me, how she came unraveled after the accident, and wonder whether this is how it starts. If she is thinking about that, too. Realizing that her stoic composure is slipping. Her true self, her true emotions, clawing at the cracks, ripping her thick skin away in pieces, desperate to get out.
Everyone is quiet for a moment, and the energy in the air shifts. My heart is racing, and yet, I’m steady. Every moment of the last few weeks has been leading up to this. Every moment of my life has been leading up to this.
There's something inside of me now, something powerful, something strong. It’s pushing me to finally pull myself away from the life that I wrapped safely around me. One that belittled me and kept me small. But one that I knew. That was always consistent. That I felt a sick sort of comfort in.
"I told you what you wanted to know. Now it's your turn." Headmaster Johnson is about to say something, but I cut him a look that shuts him right up. Instead, he takes a small step away. He crosses over to Scott and puts his hand on his son's shoulder, a little comfort. The kind of comfort I've never gotten from either of my parents.
My eyes are level on my mother. She shifts uncomfortably, waiting for my words.
"Tell me the truth, mother. For once in your life, tell me the truth about everything that's happened."
"Everything that has... I don't know what you mean?" she says, but I know she does. She is still trying to tease out exactly what I know. Hoping that she can still keep her distance from this, pretend that she has nothing to do with this.
"I know what really happened with the accident. That you were the one driving. About why you sent me to that Institute." My mother's knees give out a little and seeing it makes me stand a little taller. The more she shrinks in front of me, the bigger I can grow.
"Alexandra, I sent you there because I didn't want to lose you. You were going to die."
"No, I didn't need to be sent to a secret experimental facility to recover from a car accident. You sent me there because if I survived, you didn't want to lose me to the rest of the world that was out there waiting for me. You wanted to control me like you couldn't control my father. You were too scared to be left alone. Please, tell me the truth."
She swallows a sob. Part of me is overcome with relief, a small victory talking openly about all of this, about the Institute, about my mother's actions. I never would have had the courage to stand up to her before, to take back some control. But it's easy to do when you have nothing left.
She inhales deeply and holds it for a long time. I don't think she will answer; I don't think she will fold in on herself and speak honestly. But she does; she opens her mouth, and she looks at me a little sadly as she speaks.