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“Can we see her?”

“No, man,” Wes says. “She’s locked down.”

“Where’s isolation?”

“You know the hall to the left of where we get our meds?”

I nod.

“Down there.”

I start considering ways to sneak in there to make sure she’s okay, but it all seems so distant, as if this is a horrible joke they play on the new kids here. I think back to yesterday, and she seemed fine. She was quiet and moody, but that’s how she always is. There was nothing out of the ordinary, so what the hell happened?

I can’t fathom the type of pain she must’ve been in for her to actually try killing herself.

“What did she even use?” I ask because everything in this place is so closely monitored. Hell, we can’t even be trusted with our own shampoo. The staff squirts a little into a paper cup for us so people don’t try to drink it.

“A screw from the light switch.”

“It’s so sad,” Jeremy murmurs, and I nod, completely disturbed by the visions playing in my mind.

I’m shocked that something like this could happen. I mean, I know it does, I hear about it on television, but this is way too real. It’s weird, but somehow, over this past week, I’ve been able to convince myself that I’m not locked away in a mental ward. In just seven short days, I’ve become so used to seeing Max’s feeding tube that I almost forgot it was there. Being stuck in a place like this, even for a short period of time, has made me sort of immune to all the oddities and the reasons these people are here. This is a brutal wake-up call.

“Marcus said that they’re moving group up this morning,” Wes tells us.

“To when?”

“I think right after outdoor exercise.”

Looking across the table to Harlow’s empty seat is haunting, sending a visceral chill straight through my chest, forcing my eyes down to my eggs.

“You okay?”

It’s a total sham when I nod at Wes.

I’m sucked inside a daze of festering self-reflection that does nothing but create regrets. It makes me sick to my stomach, and I wind up throwing away almost my entire breakfast before we head outside.

There’s a somberness hanging over this place today. Everyone knows about what happened last night, and they’re all gossiping about it. Little do they know that I’m the one to blame.

Jeremy tosses me the basketball, but I bounce it right back to him before turning over my shoulder and calling out, “Yo, Marcus.”

He steps away from Shanice as I walk over to him. “What is it?”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you go before you came out?”

“Didn’t have to,” I tell him, and when he hesitates to take me inside, I urge, “Come on, man. I’m pinching it off here.”

“Let’s go.” He sighs.

After we get inside, I’m in luck when he veers to the left to take me over to the bathroom by the med station.

“It’s a deuce, so it might take a while.”

“Didn’t need to know all that,” he says, unlocking the door and pushing it open for me.

As it slowly swings shut, I catch a glimpse of him walking off, and a trill of energy spirals through me. I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing or how I’m going to get down that hall, but I have to at least try.