Page 35 of Bound By Thorns

My head shot up. “Thirty hours?”

“Yes,” Stacey said, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s what you need. This will give your body and brain the time they need to reset, to stop spiraling.”

I stared at the syringe in his hand, unease bubbling in my chest. “What happens after?”

“After, we reassess,” he said, his voice steady. “This isn’t a cure. It’s a pause button, a way to give you the strength to start again. I’ll work with your psychiatrist on this. Dr. Mendoza, right?”

I nodded, swallowing hard, my mouth dry. “What if I don’t wake up?”

Stacey gave me a reassuring smile, his calm demeanor never wavering. “You will. I’ll monitor you while you’re under to make sure. But if you keep going like this, without sleep, the risk isn’t if you’ll wake up—it’s if you’ll break down completely.”

I hesitated, my fingers curling into fists. He was right, and I hated it. With a reluctant nod, I sat back and rolled up my sleeve.

“Good choice,” Stacey said quietly as he prepped the injection. He worked quickly, the cold sting of the alcohol wipe followed by the sharper sting of the needle.

“All done,” he said, stepping back. “It’ll take about ten minutes to kick in. Let’s get you back to your room.”

I nodded, already feeling the edges of my awareness start to blur. He walked beside me as I made my way back, steadying me when my steps faltered. By the time we reached my door, the weight in my body was undeniable, pressing down on me like gravity had doubled.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Stacey said as he opened the door for me.

I didn’t respond, too exhausted to argue. I sank onto my bed, my limbs heavy, my mind already slipping into the void.

For the first time in days, I surrendered completely. The darkness came fast and deep, swallowing me whole. And for once, I didn’t fight it.

FIFTEEN

Kaylan

Now.

I stared at this indistinct point. There was a thread loose in the sheet that was covering my mother’s corpse. Why was the thread loose? Maybe they don’t use the higher quality fabric for the dead. Why would they? These were probably recycled from when they’d seen better days.

My eyes swept toward the second cold locker that had my father’s tag on it. I wondered how they assigned the identification tags when the bodies were unclaimed with no next of kin to bother for them.

Wait.

Why wasn’t I the next of kin? Perhaps my parents removed me from their emergency details considering I had been gone for months without contact. How did the system work in that case? Perhaps there was some paperwork I’d need to file to get access to their information and assets. Not that my parents had any major wealth to begin with.

I stared at my father’s empty wrist. He used to wear the watch my mother gave him, every day, without fail. Where was it? Maybe in the bedside drawer on the right side of the bed. Wasn’t that my father’s side? I wondered if the watch still worked. It probably didn’t.

There was a CVS on the way back to my parents place. Maybe I could buy the button battery for his watch, make sure it worked.

How much do they cost?

“Excuse me?” The attendant looked at me confused.

Did I say that out loud?

“Nothing,” I cleared my throat. “Cremation. How much does it cost?”

He blinked, as if trying to make sense of my words.

“I’m not sure. But you can ask at the reception. They’ll connect you with someone who handles everything.”

I nodded.

Perfect!