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Jordan grits his teeth. He’s got to try. He watches the way Ron loops Hannah’s arm around his neck, and he’s willing himself to try it, too, when Amy comes barreling down the hall and nearly shoves him out of the way. He watches as Amy grabs Hannah’s hand, ducks down and wraps Hannah’s arm around her shoulders.

Hannah’s feet are kicking wildly as they pull her down the hall. Her screams pierce his eardrums.

With a nurse on either side of her, Hannah is carried down the hall to the seclusion room. It’s a tiny space, with nothing in it but a vinyl mattress pushed into the corner. It looks like a jail cell.

“Let’s go, Hannah,” Ron says through gritted teeth. “You can do it.”

Hannah fights blindly. Chaotically. Jordan can barely stand to watch. It’s just too awful. He came to Belman to help people—not to stand by while they’re dragged screaming into a place they don’t want to be. Amy lets go as Ron slides around behind Hannah and picks her up around the waist. It’s an ugly struggle, but he gets her all the way in. Once she’s in the middle of the room, he releases her.

The next thing Jordan knows he’s hearing the click of the lock as Ron comes back out, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“So … she juststaysthere now?” Jordan asks. He’s shaking. They’re going to leave her in thatcage?

“Some patients like it,” Ron says. “They can’t scream in the TV room, but in there they can yell as much as they want to.” Heshrugs. “And they eventually calm down. I mean, what else is there to do in there?”

Through the tiny window, which is reinforced with chicken wire, Jordan watches Hannah fall to her knees on the mattress. Is she …praying?

Mitch, another RN, comes up beside them. “A bit of Haldol would make it all better.”

“Dr. Klein doesn’t want us to administer another chemical restraint unless absolutely necessary,” Ron says.

Mitch turns to Jordan. “Welcome to the loony bin,” he says. “Having fun yet?”

Jordan feels his shoulders slump. Even with the heavy door shut tight, he can hear when Hannah starts screaming again.

CHAPTER 12

My name is Hannah Dory, and I am a traitor and a thief.

It was just past dawn when the castle guards lowered the drawbridge and the gatehouse’s iron portcullis rose with a metallic shriek. The crowd of merchants and laborers waiting to enter surged forward. I slipped in at the back, behind a rickety hay cart and a pair of skinny, devil-eyed goats led by a boy no older than Conn.

Just keep your head down, I told myself,and the guards won’t even notice you.

This morning there were two of them, clad in mail and armed with daggers and pikes. Their cold eyes swept the crowd for beggars, pickpockets, and anyone who didn’t have proper business in the baron’s domain. Every few moments they called out, halting the line’s progress.

“State your business,” said the bearded guard to a man hunched under a basket of fabric.

The man tried to bow, even though he was halfway to the ground already. “Silks for the table, sir.”

The guard yanked out bolts of shimmering red and purple cloth like they were rags. Peering into the basket and seeing nothing out of order, he grunted and shoved the sullied cloth back into the man’s arms. “Go!”

The line moved forward again, and I shuffled along at its rear,keeping my eyes lowered. I heard the guards greet a merchant by name, then turn away an old beggar by threatening to throw him into the dry moat.

I was getting closer.

“Halt,” the nearest guard called to the driver of the rattling hay cart.

The whole line stopped as the baron’s men came forward. The bearded one grabbed the horse’s harness while the other stabbed into the hay with his weapon.

“Do they always do this?” I whispered to the woman nearest me.

She spat onto the ground. “Always got to search for sommat what shouldn’t be in there,” she said. “The baron don’t trust no one.”

I thought of the rope I’d coiled tightly around my waist, hidden beneath my kirtle. If the guards stoppedme—

I didn’t finish the thought, because someone shoved me from behind. The guards had found nothing; it was time to move again.

Keep your head down. You’re nothing and no one. You’re invisible.