Page 24 of Devoured

Something snapped. I stood up and drove my fist into her stomach as hard as I could.

The air rushed out of Marion. The orderlies still had her arms, so she couldn’t double over—just sagged in their grip, gasping. Then she started laughing. She seemed delighted like I’d finally given her what she wanted.

“There she is,”she wheezed. “There’s the woman who killed her husband.”

Nurse Sela appeared, face pinched with irritation. She looked at Marion, who was still laughing, then at me—blood on my face, drool sliding down my cheek.

“Solitary,”she said flatly. “Both of you. Now.”

They marched us to the isolation wing. Marion went willingly now, still grinning. They shoved us into cells next to each other—concrete walls between us but metal mesh near the ceiling that let sound carry through.

The door slammed. The lock clicked.

Then the darkness hit me like a punch to the chest. Complete. Total. There was not even a crack of light under the door.

I froze. My split lip throbbed. The cell had already felt small—but in the pitch black, it was a coffin.

“No,”I whispered. Then louder: “No, wait—”

I stumbled forward, hands outstretched, and hit the door harder than expected. There was no handle on this side. I felt along the edges for light. A gap. Anything. Nothing.

My chest started to tighten. That old panic from childhood began to rise, climbing up my throat like smoke.

I pressed my back to the door and tried to breathe slowly, but it was already getting away from me.

The darkness wasn’t empty. It was full. Full of things I couldn’t see. Couldn’t name. Just like those nights in foster care.

“Marion?”My voice came out small and scared. “Can you hear me?”

She didn’t answer.

I slid down until I hit the floor. The concrete was cold through the thin scrubs. I pulled my knees to my chest and made myself as small as possible.

But there was nowhere to hide from this kind of dark.

Chapter 9

I must have been in there for hours. Maybe I slept. Maybe I just floated in that space between awake and unconscious. Time didn’t exist in the dark.

Then Marion’s voice came through the wall. “Hey. You alive over there?”

“Yes.”My throat was dry, the word scraping out.

“Good.”Relief colored her voice. “I was starting to worry I might’ve actually broken you.”A pause. “Well—more broken.”

I touched my split lip. “Why did you do it?”

“Had to see if you were worth saving,”she said, and I could hear her shifting on the floor. “Had to know if there was still someone in there.”

“And?”

“Jury’s still out.”Her laugh was hollow. “But you’re talking to me, so that’s something.”

Silence stretched between us.

“I’m sorry about your lip,”her voice came through softer now. “That was... me having an episode. I get like that sometimes. Like there’s this noise in my head that just builds and builds until I have to let it out. Make somebody else hurt so I stop hurting. You ever feel like that?”

“Just felt it once,”I admitted quietly. More than I wanted to think about.