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And again.

And again.

They carry me down a narrow hallway. There are no lights here except for one midway down the tunnel. It flickers. The walls are dirt. I would have expected something more clinical-looking, but maybe this is their next renovation.

Finally, they bring me through the door and into that narrow stairwell.

We go into the operating room.

I try to look around, but I can’t see much without moving my head. I’m placed on one of the three tables in the middle. I think I make out Clayton in the corner, but I can’t be sure if it’s a body or not.

Now, I’m staring up at the blinding overhead lights.

“Don’t worry, Syd,” Everly says, looming over me with a Colgate smile. “You’ll be as good as new when you’re done. All this pain you’re experiencing now? It won’t exist anymore. None of this will exist. Isn’t that wonderful?”

But I don’t want to erase it. I don’t want to erase any of it.

“Should we strap her down?” Michael asks, putting on his surgical mask.

Everly disappears, and I hear a tap running. “If you want. David gave her a lot in that tea, didn’t you?”

“She won’t be moving,” comes David’s voice, and I realize he’s in the room with them.

I feel myself sinking further into the table.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know how to get out of this.

I don’t know how to free myself.

“We should put her under,” Michael says, the surprising voice of reason.

“We can’t,” Everly says. “It’s too dangerous with what she’s already consumed. We’ll have to operate on her as it is.”

No. God, someone, help me.

“Just because she’s sedated doesn’t mean she can’t feel pain,” Michael says gruffly.

“Well, look at you, dear husband. Finally having a calling of conscience. Has this been a dark night of the soul for you?”

“It’s just a little inhumane.”

“You could have grown a set of morals a long time ago, but you didn’t. It’s too late for you now. Pass me the razors. I feel like we don’t have the time to do this properly.”

“If you shave her hair, she’ll know. It’s why Sydney never caught on. There were no scars or marks.”

“Well, there is that one mark at the back of her head, but I’m sure she thought it was a mole or pimple. That’s the wonderful thing about the back of the head. If you have hair, you have no idea what’s going on back there.”

I think about the faint bump at the back. I always did think it was a mole of sorts, though it was sort of scabby. Is that where they had gone in?

“Razors, please,” Everly says testily. “It will be small. She’ll barely notice. Then we can start drilling.”

Oh my god. Oh my god.

I hear the razors being turned on.

I yell at myself to move.