Page 29 of Juniper Unraveling

Sitting upright on the hospital bed, I try not to flinch, as Doctor Falkenrath dabs the alcohol onto the wound across my cheek. A sharp burn travels up my nose, squinting my eyes, and I curl my hands into tight fists until it fades.

“You say one of the boys did this to you?”

“Yes. I don’t know his name.”

“Then, you will eat in here from now on. I’ll find out who it was.”

It’d be a relief, if not for my brother, who I intend to visit again. “I’ll be all right.”

He pulls away the gauze and tips his head with a smirk. “I don’t doubt that.”

Casting my gaze toward my fidgeting hands, I clear my throat. “Doctor, I saw my brother today.” My mind races for the right words. Ones that won’t incite his stony responses. Ones that might appeal to the small bit of empathy he’s shown me in the last month. “He doesn’t look well.”

As I suspected, my words have no effect on his expression, which remains as unmoved as usual. Cold and detached. “Diseased?”

I shake my head, and the sting in my nose shoots to the rim of my eyes, threatening tears. “He’s dirty and smelled like pee. And I don’t think they’re feeding him enough.”

“And you expect me to do something about this?”

Just like the fist to my face, his words sink a harsh blow to my gut, yet they put it all in perspective, and it sounds almost foolish for me to think he could change anything. I shake my head and slide from the table, not saying another word about it.

“Doctor Davis is a very arrogant man. Approaching him is a very delicate dance of dominance, and I’m afraid I don’t enjoy playing those games.”

“But you would step in on my behalf? When he had a gun to my head?” The tone of the question is enough to have him telling me to skip supper tonight, but I don’t care. The tears have risen to my voice, and my eyes can hardly see through the blur. “Dying of starvation is slower, but no different. I think we’ve seen enough skeletons to know that.”

“Enough!” His bark echoes through the room, loud enough to climb my spine and shake my nerves. “Have I not been a gracious host to you?”

A brief flashback to the photograph he showed me on my first day stomps the argument cocked at the back of my throat. “You have. I meant no disrespect.”

Silence hangs on the air, and I busy myself by wiping down the countertops that hold syringe boxes, swabs and different sized gloves.

Even if Doctor Falkenrath can’t help me, it won’t do Abel any good if I’m thrown into the experimental wards and never seen again.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he says from behind, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the first ray of hope since I arrived here. “Here.”

I turn to see him holding out a piece of crumb cake wrapped in paper, one of his usual gifts that’s kept starvation off my bones in the last few weeks, and shake my head. They were appreciated before I got a look at my brother and realized how partial they were. “I don’t want it.”

“It’s for your brother,” he says, slapping the cake into my palm.

The offer surprises me, since he forbade me to take the extra food outside of the lab. Favoritism is not only frowned upon by the other boys, but by the guards, as well. He assured me each doctor has gifts for those who behaved well, and up until today, I assumed that was the reason I haven’t seen much of my brother. That he’d been tucked away in Doctor Davis’s lab, the same way Doctor F took me in. I should’ve known better.

“Be careful and don’t let anyone see it.”

I give a nod, and tamp down the appreciation that I know will make him uneasy. “I’ll be careful.”

* * *

I finish supper quickly and push through the doors to the yard, eyes scanning for the three boys who attacked me earlier. They’re nowhere in sight, and as much as that brings me some relief, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing them again. With milky white eyes and large black pupils that accuse me, while I gather their body parts in small jars.

The aggressive ones don’t last long here. They’re taken for observation and the kind of testing that keeps me awake at night.

I shuffle across the yard, to find Abel wearing a clean, white diaper. Dirt still coats his skin, but I don’t care. He isn’t crying, when he approaches the fence carrying a ragged-looking bunny beneath his arm, which he holds up for me to see. It’s not Sarai’s—that was probably the first thing they stole from him.

“Hey, you found a new toy?” I ask, noticing the red-stained tail hair sticking up in clumps, plastered in what must be the blood of the last child who owned it.

“Deebis give me him.” Davis.

“I have a gift for you, too,” I whisper, and push closer to the fence, glancing around for anyone who might see us. The guards in Abel’s yard stand off to the side, smoking cigarettes, and the ones on my side are occupied with a Rager that’s got caught up in the razor wire. The other boys don’t so much as look at me, and I have to assume that’s based on what happened with the ones who attacked me.