Nobody talked to Lydia for the rest of the day. Nobody except Wren, that is, who acted like the outburst had never happened and was as upbeat as before. When class finished, Wren had to leave for training, but she did talk Lydia’s ear off for a few minutes about what she’d be doing and how Lydia could come and watch.
“No, thanks,” Lydia said. Wren shrugged and bid her farewell. Lydia was left alone as Wren and everyone else went to training or to mingle among themselves. Lydia was fine with that. She wanted to be alone. In her opinion, she already felt separate from the brainwashed mass in the Cave who believed it was possible to adapt to disabilities, the ones each of them exhibited.
Training had not yet been set up for Lydia, so she had the rest of the day free. She’d already seen as much of the Center as she wanted, and the sports fields held no current appeal. Lydia went to her room, put away her belongings, then searched for the stationery and envelopes Wren had mentioned. In the nightstand, she found a calendar. Lydia picked it up and lazily flipped through it until she reached the current date: August 29.
The bus collision had happened yesterday. Was it really only yesterday? It seemed like weeks to Lydia. So much had occurred, and she was trying to process all of it.
She propped the calendar against the wall, and dug through the rest of the nightstand drawer. A Bible? Thanks Gideon, but I brought my own. She set it aside. The Cave was beginning to resemble a hotel stocked with every amenity, rather than a government facility.
Lydia pulled the stationery and envelopes from the bottom of the stack. She dug into her backpack for a pencil. Lydia started her letter with: Dear Mom and Dad, I really miss you guys. She stopped. That was all she could think of. Writing that one line a million times would’ve summed up the entirety of what Lydia felt at that moment.
She buried her head in her arms and allowed tears to stain her letter. It’s not fair! she screamed mentally. It’s not fair!
A slow knock on the door announced a visitor. Lydia tried to speak, to tell the person to leave her alone, but a choked cry escaped her lips. So she pressed her head down farther into her arms, hoping whoever was there would go away.
No such luck for her. The door opened and she thumped herself for forgetting to lock it. She wiped away any tears and looked up at the visitor.
Arthur.
“Hello?”
“Go away,” Lydia said, baring her teeth at him. “I don’t want to talk to you!”
“I know,” he said. “But I wanted to apologize.”
“You should.” Lydia wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“But would you have come with me if I didn’t tell you people had been cured?” He had Lydia on this point. “I had to keep you from doing anything rash. Like throwing yourself in front of a plane.”
“I would’ve made it,” Lydia said. But deep down, she wasn’t sure.
Arthur frowned. “Anyway, I am sorry.”
“Fine,” Lydia turned around. “Now leave.”
“There’s something else. We have someone in the Center who you can talk to if you want. If you feel like you’re under pressure or simply want to vent, he can lend an ear.”
“A shrink?” Like I’ll go for that.
“A counselor,” Arthur corrected. He took a step closer, but backed away when Lydia growled. “I want to make sure you have everything you need.”
“Well, you’ve done your job. Now would you leave me alone?” Lydia said, returning her head to her arms.
“My job?” Arthur said, chancing to move forward once more. “Lydia, this isn’t just my job. This is my life. Everyone here is not part of the daily grind. They’re like family. Okay, poor choice of words. I apologize,” he said when Lydia glared at him. “So, a military unit. My point is, we’re all very close and care what happens to one another. It’s one of the few lessons I learned from the army that stuck with me, including to always wear fresh socks.” He chuckled and crouched down to her level.
At that Lydia let loose a laugh. It wasn’t funny in the slightest, but she found it to be. She covered it up with several coughs. Arthur dared to pat her shoulder, but she dipped herself away from him. “His name is Gary Reece. His office is down the hall from Dr. Barrett’s. Stop by his office and make an appointment. Chances are he’ll be able to see you at that very moment. Also, my office is always open, so feel free to drop by if you ever want to.” He paused and then added, “I’m still working on arranging a meeting with your parents. Last I heard from Kirk, everything is fine. In fact, he’s due to check in soon.”
A woman appeared at the door and called for Arthur. “Sir, it’s urgent.”
“I’ll see you later,” Arthur said. “Oh,” he turned before leaving. “We analyzed the pill.”
“And?”
“It was a tracking device. But we haven’t been able to determine if Rooke did, in fact, manufacture it. We’ll keep trying, although I doubt he left behind a signature or anything.”
“Alright,” she said.
Arthur left the room. When he did, Lydia shut the door and locked it. She returned to her letter. The tears hadn’t yet dried, so she took care with her writing so as not to tear the paper.