Page 122 of Night Songs

The video ended, but neither of us moved or spoke. After a while, the case manager returned and handed Hess a Kleenex from the box on his desk. She dabbed her cheeks and asked, “What happened to her after she left?”

He frowned slightly. “We do everything we can to keep track of our patients, including assigning them a case manager. But this is a volatile, high-risk population, and they usually drop off the radar.” He pulled the file back and studied it. “In this instance, the case manager lost track of her almost immediately, and she never resurfaced in our system.”

After Hess asked a few more questions that led nowhere, we walked out into the parking lot, and the light stung my eyes. The air was too soupy to breathe. I took out my phone and looked at the time. It was almost six. According to my birth certificate, I was born at 9:03 p.m.

Three hours left.

When I stepped from the stairs, my shoe sank a few inches into the swamp of the asphalt before I yanked it back. I looked over at Hess, who was pacing back and forth on her phone in front of the building.

I tested the asphalt again, and it sucked my sneaker down like quicksand. I scanned around, mapping different routes away from the clinic that could avoid the asphalt-covered roads, but they surrounded us. There was no way out. I imagined staying in this same spot for the rest of my short life: sleeping, eating, peeing, dreaming on this hard, safe concrete stair.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and startled.

“Rhea? Are you all right?” Hess asked.

I was suddenly afraid that if I opened my mouth, my words wouldn’t make sense, so I nodded and grimaced as if I was too overwhelmed to speak.

Hess nodded sympathetically. “I called a friend in the Nashville Police Department about filing a missing person’s report. He said there are organizations we can contact to get the word out with her real name and a recent picture. If she’s out there, we’re going to find her.”

There was something about Hess’s face, the way she seemed so forceful and confident, that felt like she was acting out the part of a determined woman, like it was some elaborate performance.

I just couldn’t believe it; none of it felt real. “We don’t know that was her,” I said before I could stop myself.

Hess’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Of course that was her.”

“But how could she survive a plane crash? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Hess sighed. “I know it seems impossible, but I am certain that was her, honey. That was her voice. She even used her real name.”

Her tone was patronizing, as if she’d already decided I was insane.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m crazy,” I snapped.

Hess paled. “I’m sorry, that was not my intention.”

Even if it was her, I had no idea how she’d stopped the curse. “I just… I think I need to go for a walk. I need to clear my head.”

She took a step toward me. “I know this is overwhelming—I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it myself.” She took another step. “Why don’t we go back to the rental? We should eat something anyway.”

“No, I need to be alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She took another step, and I realized she could grab me if she reached out.

She’s going to take you somewhere. Maybe even back into that facility. This is not safe.

I took a few steps back. “What are you trying to do? I can take a walk if I want.”

Hess moved even closer. “Rhea, honey, I’m not trying to do anything. I’m with you. I’m on your side.”

Lies.

“Why would I believe anything you say? You’ve been lying our entire relationship.”

Go. Go now.

I turned to leave, and Hess grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Wait, Rhea, please—” But I yanked it away, leaping onto the asphalt and streaking across the parking lot, the muck sticking to my shoes. I made it to the grass on the other side without getting stuck, and then through another short stretch of asphalt to the other side of the street.

I heard Hess call out my name from behind, and I took a sharp left into a maze of tourist-filled streets. A crowd staggered toward me clutching boozy slushies with stacks of glinting plastic beads around their necks. I tried to make myself invisible, flattening my body against the side of a decaying brick building, but I needn’t have made the effort. Their eyes were glazed and unfocused as they passed.