Page 30 of If They Knew

“Whoa, I like what you've done with the place,” he says with a nod, looking around. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen this place.”

Mary turns around, smiling. “Thanks, Tyler. I did what I could to make people feel comfortable while they’re here.”

“He’s right, it does look really nice,” I say, looking out the window at the vast ocean that stretches for endless miles. I look away, not wanting to think about how far we have drifted.

“Enough with the small talk. Where are the patients you were telling us about?” Logan asks, walking around.

“They're over here.” Mary leads us toward the hallway that’s lined with doors that were originally for the massage rooms. “I put the patients in separate rooms to keep them contained in case what they had was contagious, but, like I said, I don’t believe it is. But given what happened to the first one, I wanted to be cautious.”

“Hey, who else knows about this?” Logan asks.

“Just a few people who help me around here and there,” she answers. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we need to keep this quiet,” Logan answers. “We don't want anyone else finding out about…whatever the hell this is. Everyone would lose their shit if word got out.”

“Finally something we can agree on,” Mary says, turning the knob to the first room.

“Should we put on a mask or something?” Kelly asks, her nose scrunched up like she just caught a whiff of something rancid.

“No, I don't think a mask is necessary. But, if you feel more comfortable staying outside the room, feel free to do so. I understand your caution.”

We stand together at the door housing one of the sick patients. As soon as it opens, my face contorts into the same expression as Kelly's. There's an overwhelming smell of days-old vomit, urine, and sour sweat that's so strong that I'm almost certain when I walk out of this room, the stench will be clinging to my clothing like nicotine from a small town dive bar.

“Holy fuck, that's awful,” Tyler murmurs. Kelly, standing next to him, elbows him in the side. Good thing because at this point, I’m ready to punch him in the throat if he doesn’t shut up. Everyone gathers around the sleeping patient, holding our noses to block out the stench. In the center of the room, a young woman lies asleep, her skin damp, and her hair clings to her face. She is completely unfazed by the commotion around her.

“This is Beatrice,” Mary says quietly.

“She isn’t contagious, right?” Logan asks.

“She has already told us the answer to that question.” My eyes are locked on Logan's. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it and turns around and walks over to Beatrice.

“Wake up,” Logan shouts, his hand reaching out to her shoulder. Mary intercepts and swats his hand away before he can touch her.

“Show some goddamn respect, Logan,” Mary snaps, her tone stern, making it clear how much she despises him. Mary walks over and gently tries to wake Beatrice.

“Beatrice, wake up, honey. Someone wants to talk to you.” Beatrice stirs but doesn’t fully wake. “Beatrice, honey, I need you to wake up for a minute,” Mary says, still gently nudging her. Beatrice groans and rolls over. She opens her eyes and sees Mary, then gives her a small smile, unaware that the rest of us are standing in the room. She lies there for a moment, her eyes fluttering to wake up. “Hey sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

Before Beatrice answers, she stretches and lets out a yawn and settles into the bed. I watch as she looks past Mary and notices me and the others standing in the room. But it’s not until her eyes land on Logan that she reacts. When she sees him, her entire body goes stiff and her eyes widen.

She sits up quickly and looks at Mary, panic clouding her face. “Thanks for taking care of me,” she says, running her fingers through her matted hair, staring down at the floor. “I'm feeling much better. I'm ready to go back to my room now.”

Beatrice tries her best to get out of bed, but Mary, looking just as confused as I feel by the sudden burst of energy, looks around at everyone, then back at Beatrice.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Mary says, her voice slow and calm. “If the symptoms are the same as your friend's, this is only temporary relief. I need to figure out how to stop whatever's making you sick before it gets worse.”

Beatrice begins to shift in the bed. “No, really, I'm fine. I’m feeling much better. Can I please go back to my room?” Beatrice is clearly getting more uncomfortable every time her eyes flick over to where Logan is standing.

There is no way I’m the only one who notices the sudden change in her attitude whenever her eyes meet Logan's. It’s as if she's afraid to speak with him in the room.

“Hey, I'm Theo, remember me?” I say softly, stepping in front of her and intentionally blocking her view of Logan. “If I remember correctly, you live in… Colorado or somewhere out west, and you have a dog you rescued?”

“Wow. How did you remember that?” asks Beatrice, her shoulders dropping and becoming a bit more relaxed.

“I love animals, and growing up, I was never allowed to have pets but I always said I’d rescue a puppy one day. That’s why I remembered you.” I quickly bring the conversation back to what I came here for, hoping I've gained a little of her trust. “Ok, so I’m just trying to figure out what happened here. It’s really important that we figure out what's going on so no one else gets sick. Can you tell me what happened?”

Her eyes lock onto mine like she's studying me. Then I watch her gaze shift past me to Logan. Instantly, her body tenses again. I sense she's about to clam up, so I shift on my feet a little to block her from seeing Logan and pulling her attention back to me. “Focus on me, Beatrice. Let’s pretend no one else is in the room and it’s just us.” Tears well up in her eyes. I reach down and grab her hand, trying to comfort her. She’s trembling and her palms are clammy. I know something is wrong. Very wrong, and it has to do with Logan.

“I need everyone to leave the room,” I say, never taking my eyes off Beatrice. “Except you, Mary. Please stay.”