Page 245 of The Night Shift
She shakes her head. “But you tried. I saw you.”
The room, the blood, the sound of my own breathing behind the surgical mask — it all floods back.
The chill I felt holding the scalpel. It wasn’t the air conditioning. It was her. I’d seen her name on the file. Seen her face too.
But, I hadn’t let myself connect the dots. Hadn’t let myself remember. Not until right now. It isn’t the first time my mind has tricked me this way. It’s a funny thing, the human brain. My therapist used to say that the mind can sometimes create an alternate reality — a false reality — to shield itself from trauma.
I go over every interaction I’ve had with Audrey. Every time she listened without judgment. Every time I told her things I’d never admitted out loud. That glittery blue purse showing up everywhere I went. The clothes that fit me so perfectly. They were mine. Every conversation we had, every time she vanished without warning only to reappear when I needed her the most. I hadn’t questioned it, because I knew. Iknew.
Not even that first night. When Theo had stumbled into me in the hallway, all confused, as I was apologizing to someone who wasn’t there. Someone he couldn’t see.
A chill travels up my spine. “I don’t understand…I-I thought I stopped seeing…when I started killing, I thought it stopped.”
Audrey says nothing.
I blink fast. My eyes sting. “How did it happen?” I ask. The question tastes stupid in my mouth. Like trying to reverse-engineer a nightmare.Is this going to happen again? Am I going to start seeing Aanya again?
I don’t want that. I don’t want to see her face in dark corners or half-dreams. I don’t want to be dragged back into that black hole of grief where utterly useless I watch the person I loved disappear into pieces I can’t gather. It was supposed to stop. I started killing and it was supposed to stop. Violence was supposed to cauterize my grief. But now Audrey is here. And Aanya’s name claws at the back of my throat like it’s next in line.
Then Theo’s.
The thought guts me.
Audrey shrugs. “I don’t really remember the specifics. I remember the pain. The fear. There were four men. I don’t knowtheir faces. I just wanted the pain to stop. And then it did. And I felt nothing. Just cold.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?”
“You weren’t ready.”
“You felt so real,” I say, voice raw and low. Like I’m touching a bruise and hoping it never blooms again.
Audrey smiles. Soft and sad. “Who’s to say I’m not?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says, even though the glimmer in her eyes tells me she wants to leave. “In another life, I think we would’ve been great friends.”
That makes me smile for the first time tonight. “That’s a nice thought.”
Silence. It stretches. Lingers.
“I should go now,” she says quietly.
My chest tightens. “Wait.” I hate how small I sound. “Will I not see you again?”
She tilts her head. “I get the feeling you won’t need to see me again. But if you ever want to, I guess I’m just a thought away.”
The wind slices through my sweat-soaked top. The parking lot is mostly empty except for the space between us. She starts to walk away. Towards nothing. Towards nowhere.
“Audrey?” I call.
She turns. Cigarette between her lips now. Smoke curling like a question mark around her face. “Yeah?”
“What do I do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I have to sit in that godforsaken waiting room again.”
