Page 9 of Borrowed

T hey didn’t tell me she was gone.

Not in words.

But I knew because her bed was stripped.

The mattress sat naked, sagging like a used mouth.

All the colors from her side of the room were gone.

No slippers. No dumb purple blanket. No chipped mug with cartoon cats.

Mila liked cats. I didn’t notice all the cat stuff until now. It was gone, just like Mila.

I stood in the doorway while the nurse, a new one with tight braids, humming under her breath like I was a toddler, patted me on the back. “Let’s get you settled for Group, Tabitha.”

“Tabby,” I wanted to say, but my lips stayed shut. They liked the long version. Made me sound less like a pet and more like a patient.

The others didn’t look at me.

Not the girl who tore the paper into smaller paper all day. Not the one who counted ceiling tiles with her mouth open like she could taste them. Not even the boy who cried over his pills. Especially not him.

They knew.

I crawled onto the rug and looked at the people. They were too clean. Everything smelled like bleach and mint. Mila’s chair was empty. But I could still feel the ghost of her warmth where she used to be. It made my stomach feel funny, like I swallowed cotton balls that were growing teeth.

I turned my face away to look at the quiet white walls and waited.

He came then.

Toby.

His weight beside me was strong, like a shadow swallowing the sun. His breath tickled the back of my neck. Cold. Familiar.

“You were good, Zusje. You said all the right things. Now we can have more play time.”

I nodded.

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

I didn’t.

Not really.

Mila liked cats.

She had been loud—too much of her. Always touching, laughing, talking about cats. But still…she was there. Now, she was not. I hated the ‘not’ more than I liked her.

He pushed into me, his cool body feeling closer. I felt his fingers drag across my ribs over the sterile, silent uniform they made me wear. The seams itched in a pattern, warning me. He didn’t make noise. Toby never did. He moved like fog—soft and everywhere.

“She took up too much space. Our room is just for us. No one needs to see what I do to you unless I want them to.”

“Mhmm,” I said. And the other patients looked at me.

“Now it’s just you and me again.”

“Like it used to be,” I whispered, quieter now so people would not watch.

“Exactly.”

Silence sat heavy between us. And I turned to face the talking boy—the one who cried before.

“I miss my friend. That’s what I miss today. My friend. Mila. She’s dead.”

Some of the other patients cried with the talking boy, and I watched their tears fall down on their paper clothes.

“We will miss her greatly, Jordie.” Nurse Smiley said. “But she’s always with us. Our love will keep her alive in our hearts.”

I smiled at Toby, looking at his face and agreeing with the words spoken.

“These people didn’t know Mila like us,” Toby said, possessively, dark like a snake coiled around their food. “Mila belongs to us now.”

I nodded. Mila did belong to us. I wanted to wear her like Toby, so she stayed inside us forever. But they took her away. I couldn’t let them take Toby again. He was a part of me. Without him, I’d be lost forever to the flames.