Page 105 of Bones

“Have you ever been diagnosed with anxiety?”

“I’ve never been diagnosed with anything. I’ve never even been to the doctor. Why do you ask?”

“Lennon said only one of those pills is a sleep aid. The rest are strong benzos.” She whistled. “And much higher quantities than someone your size needs.” She halted abruptly on the sidewalk outside of Novel Idea, her gaze rising from the screen to look at me. “He said if you were a normal human, you’d be dead. Did you never look them up?”

“I wasn’t allowed to have a phone or full internet access.”

“Whhaaaaaa…”

Together.

Together.

Togethertogethertogether.

Their voices warbled behind the refrain in my head before fading completely. Hazy edges of my sight brightened. Pushed in as a vision took over. Not of the future, but of the past.

Ryan talking to a doctor in the congregation at one of the smaller churches we’d attended after fleeing Arkansas. Condescendingly laughing at my fragile female disposition. Portraying me like I was overwrought, and he was the selfless man who shouldered the burden.

Then him with other doctors from our different churches or neighborhoods, each conversation the same. The longer I watched, the more the color faded. Everything slowed. Voices were dull and emotionless.

Pleasant, obedient smiles curved Ryan’s mouth, and it was echoed in my memories. It was my automatic smile.

The brighter colors.

Stronger emotions.

My disobedience.

The fog that’s lifted without my nightly regimen ofsleep meds.

The image rippled like a rock thrown into still water.

That time when I saw Ryan, he wasn’t artfully disheveled in his usual way—the curated persona that framed him as the cool everyman. He was just disheveled. Stressed. Angry.

Scared.

Overpowering me, he worked to shove those pills down my throat. To drug me back into submission.

A booming voice filled my head. Not Ryan or Past Gideon. It was my own voice, but different. Stronger.

It isn’t the future written as fact, but as a choose-your-own-adventure. Flip to page thirty or page ninety-two.

Which way it goes depends on…

Together.

Together.

Togethertogethertogether.

Together!

“You think there’ssome water around her we can throw at her? I can’t see shit down here.”

“There is, but it’s stagnant rainwater that’s leaked in and probably contains brain-eating parasites.”

“Eh, she can survive that. At least she wouldn’t be catatonic.” Someone harrumphed. “How can I be all powerful but not have night vision?”

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