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  "Huh," Kirsten says, as if she's not really bothered by my answer. "Well, I'm here because I killed lots of people. None of them were my brother, though. Anyway, moving on. Question two. Do you consider yourself to be a danger to those around you? I mean in general, not just in your current drugged-up, hyper-medicated state."

  I pause. "I don't know," I say, taking deep, slow breaths. The nausea is getting worse, as if I might vomit at any moment.

  "Good enough," Kirsten says. "Me, I consider myself a danger only to assholes. Third question. Do you believe in ghosts?"

  "What?" I ask, staring at her.

  "Do you believe in ghosts?"

  I take a few more deep breaths. This is the second time someone's asked me about ghosts since I got here. "I don't know," I say.

  "I do," she replies. "But I didn't when I got here."

  I feel my stomach start to settle a little. "Are there ghosts here?" I ask.

  "Hell yeah," she replies. "But don't worry, you won't see anything until the third night."

  "The third night?"

  "Yeah," she says. "It's the same for everyone when they arrive. The first two nights, they don't see or hear anything weird. Maybe it's the medication, maybe it's just the way things go. But then the third night, they always see something. It's the third night when it all begins."

  I sigh. "Okay," I say, realizing that Kirsten is clearly insane. When I said I'm not sure if I believe in ghosts, I was being polite, and I was keeping my mind open. The truth is, I don't believe in ghosts. I used to live in a big old house in Maine, where the previous owner had died after putting a shotgun in his mouth and pulling the trigger; if I didn't see a ghost while we were living there, I'm pretty sure there are no ghosts to be seen anywhere. People just get impressionable, and they start to imagine things. There's nothing out there. When you're dead, you're dead. I hope so, anyway.

  "You don't believe me," Kirsten says, "but that's okay. It doesn't matter a rat's ass whether you believe me or not. What happens, happens. Feel free to re-open this discussion again after your third night."

  "Did you see anything?" I ask.

  "I'm different," she says.

  "Why are you different?"

  "Just am. I'm Little Miss Different around here."

  "Why?" I ask again.

  There's silence for a moment. "You ask too many questions about things that are supposed to stay secret," she says eventually, a darker tone in her voice. "You want to be careful, or Nurse Winter might give you some special treatment."

  "Who?" I ask.

  "You'll find out. For now, just try to fit in."

  "I'll try," I say, smiling, and then suddenly it feels as if my stomach does an entire flip in my stomach. I try to hold everything in, but there's no way I can avoid vomiting. My chest convulses, and I spew a load of gray water straight across the room. It's the most painful sensation I've ever felt, as if all my stomach acid is pouring through my throat. When it's done, I drop from the bed and land on my knees, my mouth hanging open with little drops of liquid dripping from my lips.

  "Thanks," says Kirsten.

  I look up and see she's still sitting there, with her feet covered in my vomit, which has also splashed onto her bed and down the side of the wall. "Sorry," I mutter, but that's all I can manage. My heart is racing and it still feels like I might vomit again.

  I hear Kirsten shuffle over to the door. She presses a button on the intercom, waits for a moment, and then starts speaking. "I need to clean up," she says. "I got puked on, and you need to clean Annie too."

  I feel myself starting to zone out. My mouth hurts, and my stomach hurts, and I'm feeling really hot. I should feel bad about vomiting over Kirsten, but the truth is I can only focus on how wretched my body is right now. I know they said the drugs would make me ill, but I can't help thinking this is something different. This isn't right. Maybe they gave me too many drugs, or maybe they combined things wrongly, but no-one's supposed to feel like this. And finally, just when I think it's getting better, my stomach does that flip thing again and I vomit all over the floor, only this time it's not gray, watery acid. This time it's blood.

  Chapter Four

  When I wake up, I'm flat on my back in a darkened room. I seem to be on some kind of trolley, parked in the middle of the room, and the only light comes from a distant window that opens into a nurses' station. On the other side of the glass, there's a nurse reading a newspaper. Everything seems so calm and relaxed, as if all order has been restored to the world.

  I try to get up, but I find I'm strapped down to the trolley. Looking around, I see that there are other trolleys in the room but they're empty. It's then that I realize I'm hooked up to a drip, with some kind of clear liquid slowly being delivered via a vein in my right arm. I can't make out what the label on the bag says, but whatever it is, it seems to be working. My stomach feels a lot better. In fact, I feel better overall, and my head seems clearer. I guess they've given me more drugs, to counteract the effect of the first drugs.

  "Hello," I say, though my voice isn't very loud and I sound really rough.

  The nurse seems to hear me, and she stands up, entering the room via a small door at the side. She comes over to me, her shoes making a slapping sound with every step.

  "How are you feeling?" she asks, smiling down at me with a kind face.

  "Better," I say.

  "I'm Nurse Perry," she says, using the back of her hand to check the temperature of my forehead. "You can call me Hazel."

  "What happened?" I ask. "Am I okay?"

  "You're doing a lot better," she says. "I think we can remove these soon," she says, tugging a little at the thick leather restraints that are keeping me tied down. "They're for your own good. You had a couple of seizures and I was worried you'd fall off and hurt yourself. We'll wait a couple more hours just to make sure you're done with all that, and then we'll untie you. It's a shame these trolleys are so high off the ground, but..." Her voice trails off. "Never mind," she says. "The important thing is that you're back with us now."

  I look up at the bag that's attached to the drip. "What are you giving me?" I ask.

  "We're just keeping you hydrated," she says. "It's a formula that contains lots of nutrients. You lost a lot of fluid when you were ill. You had a very bad reaction to the Duodraxadine, but it's all under control now. The drug's almost out of your system, and I'm pretty sure you won't have any more complications."

  "I'm sorry," I say.

  "Why?" she asks. "Don't be silly. You're ill. It's natural that things go a little haywire at first. Duodraxadine isn't exactly a walk in the park. Most people have a bad reaction to it at first, though you were a little more severe than usual. Don't worry, though. It's all good now. You're out of danger, so it's all uphill from here, okay? I promise you, it won't get as bad as that again."

  "Thanks," I say. "I think I threw up all over my room-mate."

  "Don't worry about things that have already happened," she says. "Focus on the future. You're here to look ahead, not to keep dwelling on the past, okay?"

  "Okay," I say. I tug a little at the restraints. "So can I get up now?"

  "Not quite yet," Nurse Perry says. "Like I said, I want to keep you strapped down a little longer, just in case you have another seizure. I don't think you will, but better safe than sorry, right? Just a couple more hours and then I promise you'll be up and about." She checks her watch. "It's gone midnight," she says. "If all goes well, you can be discharged from the sick-bay in the morning and we can get you back to your room on the main ward."

  "How long have I been unconscious?" I ask.

  "About thirty-six hours," Nurse Perry says.

  "Seriously?" I say, shocked. I assumed it was just for a single day at most.

  She nods. "You've had quite a time since you got here, haven't you? You spent your first night passed out on your bed, and then you spent your second night unconscious in here."

  "So this is my third night?" I ask, thinking back to what Kirs
ten told me.

  "Sure is," Nurse Perry says, "but don't worry, it's going to get better. I'll make sure of that personally. Now you need to rest, so I'll just be through in the next room, and you can call out if you need anything, okay?"

  "Okay," I say.

  "But not too loud," she adds. "Don't start screaming and yelling. That's the one thing that Nurse Winter hates more than anything, and you really don't want to piss her off, do you?" Suddenly, she leans down and kisses me on the cheek. "Keep quiet, follow the rules, and it'll all be okay," she says softly, keeping her face close to mine. "Okay?"

  "Okay," I repeat.

  There's a pause, and then she leans closer and kisses me fully on the lips. There's no tongue, but it's a slow, weird kiss that definitely doesn't feel like the kind of kiss a nurse should give a patient. All I can do is wait as her wet lips brush against mine, and then she moves a hand onto my body, gently squeezing the fabric of my night-shirt against my right breast. The kiss lasts for about a minute before she slowly pulls back. "Try to get some sleep," she says quietly, wiping her lips with her hand. "It's natural that you're going to feel very tired right now. And..." She pauses. "I don't know if you've heard any stupid stories about what happens on the third night here. Just ignore it. There's nothing. It's mind games, the kind of thing people do to try to psych you out when you arrive. You're perfectly safe with me here. I'll just be through in that little room over there, okay?"

  As she turns and walks away, I take a deep breath. What the hell was that? Did my nurse just come on to me? I watch her disappear through the door, and moments later she takes up her position behind the glass again. I guess she was kind, to an extent, but there was also something kind of creepy about her. I pull at the restraints, but I'm tied down pretty firmly on this trolley. I guess I just have to wait out the night, and hope that Nurse Perry keeps her word and frees me in the morning.

  I look up at the bag of fluid that's still hooked up to my arm. To be honest, I'm still feeling pretty drowsy, so I guess it wouldn't hurt to get some sleep. I glance across the darkened room, seeing all the empty trolleys. It's a good job I don't believe in ghosts, or I'd be pretty freaked out right now.

  Chapter Five

  When I wake up the next morning, there's light streaming into the room through a window at the far end of the room, and I immediately see Nurse Perry standing behind the glass window, talking to Dr. Campbell. They seem to be having an urgent, animated discussion, as if something's wrong, but I decide it's too early to worry just yet. Nothing seems to have happened during the night, and I feel better than ever. They're probably discussing another patient. I don't know how big this hospital is, but I'm pretty sure there are plenty of other nut-jobs floating about, people who can cause real problems.

  Glancing in my direction, Nurse Perry sees that I'm awake. Smiling, she holds up a finger, which I guess means she'll be with me in a moment. I check to see if I'm still tied down, and I find that I am, so I decide to just wait it out. A couple more minutes like this won't hurt. I take a deep breath and, for the first time since I arrived here, there's not even a hint of nausea. I guess those drugs are finally out of my system, though I'm sure the sedatives and relaxants they're giving me are also at work. Still, it's the first time I've felt even vaguely normal since I arrived.

  "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Nurse Perry says as she enters the room, with Dr. Campbell right behind her. "How are you feeling this morning?"

  "Better," I say. I look up at the bag of nutrients and see that it's empty. "I feel much better."

  Dr. Campbell leans down and looks closely at my eyes. "There's no sign of disturbance," he says. "In fact, I'd say she looks completely normal." He peers a little closer. "Annie, do you feel alright in your head? Do you have pain of any kind?"

  "No," I say.

  This seems to bother Dr. Campbell, who turns away and grabs a chart from a nearby table. He reads some figures on a print-out. "What time was the disturbance?"

  "Just before 5am," Nurse Perry says, glancing at me with an uneasy look in her eyes. "It was all over within five minutes."

  "It doesn't matter how quickly it was over," says Dr. Campbell, clearly lost in thought. "What matters is that it happened at all." He leans over and tugs at the restraints around my wrists; it's as if he's checking that they're strong enough. "I'll need to speak to some colleagues before I make a decision. I also want to find out what Nurse Winter thinks."

  "Are you sure?" Nurse Perry asks. She glances around for a moment, as if she's worried about being overheard. "Is it wise to involve Nurse Winter at this stage?"

  "I have no choice," Dr. Campbell says with a shrug. "Imagine the consequences if there's a more serious incident further down the line and it comes out that I didn't raise any concerns."

  "I feel fine," I say, butting in. "I mean, I feel good. I think you can let me get up now."

  Dr. Campbell stares at me for a moment, clearly not convinced. "I'm not sure about that, Annie," he says. "From everything Nurse Kelly tells me, you had quite a troubled night."

  I frown. "I slept fine," I say.

  "Most of the night, yes," Dr. Campbell continues. "But this incident around 5am worries me a little."

  "What incident?" I ask.

  Dr. Campbell and Nurse Perry exchange a worried glance. "Don't you remember, Annie?" Dr. Campbell asks, stepping towards me again. He pulls out a small torch from his pocket and shines it into my eyes. "Don't you remember what happened?"

  "I woke up and talked to Nurse Perry for a few minutes," I say, squinting as the torchlight seems to burn into my retina. "Then I went back to sleep. That's not an incident, is it? I didn't do anything wrong."

  "No," says Dr. Campbell. "Not at that point. But a few hours later, you started screaming." He switches off the torch and turns back to Nurse Perry. "She looks fine."

  "I didn't scream," I say. "I slept through."

  Dr. Campbell sighs. "You don't remember, do you?" he asks.

  "Remember what?" I reply, testing the restraints again. I want to get up off this table, but I'm starting to think that they're considering leaving me here a bit longer. "I just slept."

  Nurse Perry steps towards me. "Annie," she says, "just after 5am, you woke up again. You started screaming, and when I calmed you down, you said that -" She pauses and looks over at Dr. Campbell, who shakes his head. "Well," she says, turning back to me and smiling, "you were disturbed, that's all."

  "What did I say?" I ask, starting to panic.

  Nurse Perry looks at Dr. Campbell again. This time, he shrugs, and Nurse Perry turns back to me. "You said there was someone standing over you. Someone standing by the trolley, watching you. You said you woke up and there was a kind of burned man standing there, and he vanished when you screamed and I ran through."

  "Watching me?" I ask. "I don't remember any of that."

  "Interesting," says Dr. Campbell. "You don't remember waking up at all between the time you spoke casually to Nurse Perry, and the time you woke up just now?"

  I shake my head.

  "She said there was a man standing over her," says Nurse Perry, still staring at me. "It sounded like -"

  "Let's stop this nonsense," says Dr. Campbell, interrupting her. "Let's just get on with the day, huh? It's a bright new morning and there's no need to dwell on things that may or may not have happened during the night. I'll confer with Nurse Winter before we decide what to do, but hopefully, Annie, we can have you up and about after lunch. How does that sound?"

  I stare at him. "I didn't scream in the night," I say, but it's pointless. I can tell that they both think I've just forgotten, and frankly, I suspect they're right. I just wish I could remember what scared me so much.

  "Nurse Perry," says Dr. Campbell, picking up some papers from a nearby table, "I'll be back in an hour or so. Perhaps you could clean Annie up and get her ready to go back onto the ward."

  "Yes, Doctor," says Nurse Perry.

  Once Dr. Campbell has left, Nurse Perry wheels my trolley t
hrough to another room, where she turns on a set of taps in a large metal bath. "Okay, Annie," she says, turning to me. "I'm going to bath you. If you cooperate, this can be over and done with pretty fast. If you struggle, I'll have to get the guards to come in, and it'll just be a horrible mess. Do you understand?"

  I look over at the bath, seeing steam rising up as it fills with water. "I guess," I say.

  Carefully, Nurse Perry switches my wrist shackles around so that instead of being tied to the trolley, I'm now handcuffed. Then she does the same to my ankles before sliding my legs over the edge.

  "You can stand up," she says.

  I slowly get to my feet. With my wrists and ankles bound tightly together, I feel like some kind of prisoner. As I stand there, Nurse Perry steps behind me and starts unbuttoning my night-dress, which has special openings on the sleeves so that it can be removed even while I'm handcuffed. Eventually she pulls the night-dress away, leaving me standing completely naked while the bath fills up.

  "You can get in now," says Nurse Kelly as she turns off the tap.

  I climb into the bath, finding that the water is almost too hot. Lowering myself down slowly, I sit as Nurse Kelly fetches some soap and drips some kind of gel onto a sponge.

  "Did I really scream in the night?" I ask.

  "Yes," she says, running the coarse, wet sponge over my back. "You sounded terrified."

  "What did I say?" I ask.

  She gets me to lift my arms up, and she runs the sponge under my armpits and then along to my elbows. "You said there was a man standing over you, staring at you. You said he was bleeding."

  I try to remember, but I can't. It's as if it didn't happen, but I guess there's no reason for anyone to lie. "What else did I say?"

  "Not a lot," she replies as she washes my hands. "I gave you a shot to sedate you, and you were knocked out pretty fast." She wets the sponge again, and applies more gel.

  "Are you sure there wasn't anyone there?" I ask, as she starts washing my neck and shoulders, eventually bringing the sponge down to wash my breasts. I wait for her to finish, but she seems to be taking her time. I feel a little uncomfortable with the way she's touching my body. Eventually she wipes the soap from my breasts and goes to load more gel onto the sponge. "Maybe there really was someone there," I say.