I can’t believe it’s already Wednesday.

My throat doesn’t hurt as bad, I was told the wound on my hand has begun to heal, the birds are singing, the stinky flowers my mom brought died and were thrown out, and speaking of my mother, she’s on her way to visit me.

Which means none of those good things matter anymore.

This is going to be worst day of my life. I’ve got to confront her about this creepy doctor she’s been seeing behind my back. And she’ll probably tell me she loves him or something gross like that.

Like I said, worst day ever.

“Hey, dear.”

Speak of the devil.

Mom waltzes in and casually places her purse on my bedside table. Her hair is brushed and she’s wearing a necklace. And is that mascara? She never wears mascara. I have to wonder how long she’s been dressing up. Am I only noticing it now because I know about her mystery man? Oh jeez, this is serious, isn’t it? She’s even dressing up for this guy.

“I talked to Nana on the phone this morning. She’s still pretty ill, but she thinks she might be able to make it by in the next day or so. Isn’t that great?”

She’s so damn chipper. I can’t hide my disgust.

“What is it? Is there something on my face?”

“More like someone.”

She looks confused and opens her mouth to say something then clamps it shut and blushes. Profusely. She never blushes about anything. There’s no way this is my mom. She’s obviously a clone or something. We’ve traveled all over the world and met countless men and she’s never batted an eye at any of them. Why now? Why here?

“Oh. You’ve heard about Victor?”

God. Victor is a jerk name. She’s dating a jerk.

“Not heard, no. I had the misfortune of witnessing you rabbits going rabid.”

Her cheeks darken even more.

“Kara, that’s not polite-”

“What’s not polite is the way he was all over you like that. My god mom, have some respect!” My anger lashes out briefly, but I don’t care much right now. I have every right to be angry this time. “He made no secret to anyone what he was after, did he?”

Her Aura is angry now too.

“It’s not like that. You shouldn’t talk that way about him.”

“Well, he’s got you all wrapped around his finger now, doesn’t he? Who kisses like that so soon in a relationship then, mom? Here’s a hint, it’s not the prince of the story. It’s the frog.”

“We’ve been dating for almost a year.”

I don’t have a response to that, except: “…the fuck are you talking about, mom?”

“Language, Kara, please.”

I can feel more anger brewing, stronger and deeper than any I’ve felt so far. The tiny seed grows again, and I don’t trust myself not to say, or do, something I’ll regret later. I can’t believe this shit. I thought this was new. I thought she hadn’t found the right time to tell me about this new thing in her life. Maybe it started just before my accident so of course she couldn’t find the time… but a year? She’s been lying to me for a whole year?

That’s it. I need to leave.

“Don’t language me!”

I slide off my bed, pull on my sweater, grab my coat, and head towards the door. Chilly or not, a walk in the gardens will clear my head. I need to clear my head. I’m so mad it feels like my brain is splitting in half. I don’t want to hurt her.

“You’ve been going behind my back, lying, and dating this- this creep for a fucking year?”

“Don’t run off now just because things aren’t going your way.”

“My way? What part of my life is going my way, mom? I wanted to leave the second I got here. I hated this place, didn’t trust this place or its people. And while all I wanted to do was go somewhere else, you’ve been putting down roots?” And that’s putting it nicely.

“If you would just give Ashvale a chance, honey-”

“I gave it a chance, and I almost fucking died.”

She flinches and looks down at the ground and I leave my room. The worst part is the hypocrisy. While she’s been ragging on me about lying, she’s been lying to me for a whole year.

She also broke a promise. An important promise. Or at least, I thought it was important.

It was important to me.

When I was nine, I saw her talking to a man and made assumptions and got upset. I still missed dad back then. She told me if a new man ever came into her life, she would tell me. I’d be the first to know.

Such bullshit.

Lying bitch!

That’s it.

I’ve had it.

My anger gets the better of me and I turn back around. I find my mom slouched on my bed with her hands smoothing my sheets, a complicated look on her face. But my sympathy for her has been drained.

When she looks up and sees I’ve come back, she looks hopeful for a moment, until I open my mouth.

I need to get all of this off my chest or I’ll break.

“You told me I’d be the first to know. You promised. You lied. You said we would never go anywhere I didn’t want to go or stay anywhere I didn’t want to stay. That’s why I trusted you all these years, when we were moving around all the time and I couldn’t have any real friends. Because you promised me. But you lied. Everything was always a lie. You’re selfish. And your words are garbage. That’s probably why dad left you. Not that that seems to matter to you anymore.”

I turn to leave, and she stands as well.

“Kara-”

“Don’t follow me.” She freezes. “And don’t bother visiting again. I don’t want to see you. I wouldn’t want to take time away from your boy toy.”

And then I really leave.

She doesn’t follow. And I’m grateful.

Hooo… that felt good. I don’t know why I’ve been holding back; I don’t regret that at all.

It’s the first day this fall that’s gotten close to winter level cold. Hospitals are always a little chilly but at least the rooms are heated to some degree. My skin crawls the moment I’m out in the hall. It’s reminiscent of the sleeping curse the Ice Doctor cast. I still don’t know how that really worked. I’m most likely not using the proper names for anything, but that’s not my fault.

No one, not even my own mother, seems to like telling me things.

A fucking year. Holy hell. I was so caught up in all the Shifter shit, and so lost in my own head, I missed something so big. No wonder she didn’t want to leave last Christmas. It had already started by then.

I pull my coat on slowly. My body is still stiff, but I can tell it’s limbering up over time. The gardens are the opposite way of the food court, towards the back of the hospital, so I head that way.

Lillian frowns as I pass. I ended up telling her that my friends were pulling a prank and teasing me because they knew if there was a sale, I wouldn’t be able to go. She bought it for the most part. Told me I needed new friends. I agreed with her.

She is partially right. I’m keeping Chayla since she’s redeemed herself a bit. I still haven’t heard a peep from Jordan or René. But so be it. With everything going on, I don’t need people around I can’t trust.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

There’s been a horrible thought in my head ever since Chayla stopped by, but the other two were absent. There aren’t a lot of justifiable reasons to not visit a friend who almost died. It makes me wonder if they’re mixed up in this somehow. I don’t want to think like that, I keep telling myself there has to be something else. But what else could there be?

I’ve had a lot of time to replay everything that’s happened in my mind. David and Clifford were confused the whole time I lay dying. There was an official looking red envelope or something, indicating Clifford was supposed to do something, at that location, or at least specifically where David happened to be at that particular time. David even said he’d heard about me for some reason from someone earlier that day. That’s why he was there, in a place Shifters like him never go otherwise. A place where I was, where many people would know I would be.

Like it was all planned. Intricately.

Plans involve people. And I have no way of knowing which people. But anyone suspicious is on the list of maybes. Jordan and René fall into that category. As crazy as it seems, there aren’t any reasons not to put them on there.

And that’s terrifying.

I don’t go down to gardens much, they’re a little eerie. You would think that a hospital would want to cheer people up, right? Keep things bright and cheerful and stuff. That’s not the theme of the greenery I’m heading towards.

It’s got this huge weeping willow in the center and lots of dark rose bushes. Oh, and gargoyles. Actual ones. They’re these creepy mini dragons slash goblins and they’re all over the place. I think part of the reason I don’t go there is because of those things.

Now that I know nothing is what it seems, I have to wonder if they wake up at night. My window does rattle a lot in the wind...

I’ll have to deal with it though, because I need some fresh air and I don’t feel like talking to Detective Idiot at the main doors. So the only other option is the gardens.

It’s not far now. I’m walking past a hallway where all the doctor’s offices are here, when I shrink back around the corner. My heart is beating in my throat.

Why? There’s that creep who had his hands all over my mom. He’s walking into an office four doors down. Maybe it’s his? It’s gotta be. You can’t just saunter into a random doctor’s office, not even if you’re a doctor yourself. Those things are kept locked.

I don’t know much about this guy, but getting a better look now, I realize he’s the doctor my mom slapped when I was about to go under for surgery. I’m sure of it.

He has the same athletic build and mousy brown hair with long streaks of grey. He looks too fit to be a doctor. Too bulky. His lab coat is tight around the shoulders, and the thighs of his pants are tight too. And he’s tall, at least 6 feet, but probably a bit more. She slapped him twice actually now that I think about it. Seems they made up.

Wait a second, did he conduct my surgery? Well of course he did. Why else would he have been in full scrubs and mask? What the hell. If they’re together then that was clearly a conflict of interest. He shouldn’t have been allowed near me. What if he doesn’t like kids and thought, hey, instead of waiting a couple years till she’s in college maybe I’ll just let her die on the table? That’s why those conflict policies exist.

My mom let someone with a conflict of interest against me operate on me. Oh my god. Maybe she’s as tired of me as I am of her. Must be so disappointing for them both, that I lived. Now they can’t build their love nest. Fuckers.

There’s no way the nurses didn’t know about this either, yet no one said anything. Holy Jesus the Martyr, this hospital is failing so many regulations.

I don’t know what else to expect from Ashvale at this point, however. Everyone is crooked.

He leaves his office and, thankfully, heads down the hallway away from me. He takes long, quick strides. If I weren’t paying attention, I’d have missed him. He seems to be in some sort of rush. His steps are more erratic that fluid, which indicates some sort of stress or distraction.

Once he’s out of sight I hurry over to the door. It says Victor Volodin on it, in black on gold plating. Just like any other doctor’s office. But this isn’t any doctor. Before we came here my mom would have never lied to me about something like this. Maybe he’s like Ringleson, and evil. Whatever the case, he’s turned her against me somehow. Or he must have a terrible flaw. Why else would mom hide him away?

Hm, Volodin. Where did I see that before? Ah! Right, the files I snuck a look at from Lilian’s tablet. Both Doctor Riley and some Doctor V. Volodin were testing my blood. V. Volodin, Victor Volodin, so it was this guy.

No one’s around so I pull a bobby pin from my bangs and start working the lock. Don’t judge me, I swear on my life I originally learned this from a YouTube video for fun. It even saved my life once. But we won’t get into that. What matters is that I haven’t used it for evil. Well, not before now.

Not that I can really consider this evil. I have a right to answers, and if people won’t give them to me, I’ll take them for myself.

It doesn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would, and I easily slip inside, shutting the door as quietly as I can behind me. And of course, I don’t forget to lock it again. That would be a noob mistake.

His office is boring. That’s the first thing I notice. All his folders and papers and stacked perfectly. His chair is tucked into his desk neatly. He has his many certificates on the back wall, at eye level so it’s the first thing you see walking in. There’s a bunch of awards or something too, sitting on two shelves above and below the certificates.

Show off.

To each side of that arrogance are tall mahogany bookcases, the same kind of wood as the desk, stuffed with boring looking medical books.

There’s no bowl of candy, or family photos, no paintings of any kind on the walls, or anything that gives any clue to this man’s personality. Not even a rug. The only conclusion is this guy has no personality to show.

Or he’s deliberating hiding who he is. Yes, that must be it. He really is a creep.

Not only is he a creep but he’s an arrogant jerk, too. Wow. Mom really knows how to pick em’ doesn’t she?

I’m disappointed. Not only is there no evidence here to tell me anything, but my mom is dating a total loser. Does mom really think so little of herself that she would settle this low?

Dad might not have been perfect but at least he had substance. This room is dead. I’ve been inside a lot of the doctor’s offices here at some point, either saying hello or following my mom around until we could leave. They all had stuff. A weird rug, photos of their kids, abstract art, even boring landscapes…at least they had something.

Suddenly the door opens behind me with a loud click.

Oh, crap.

“Kara, what the heck are you doing in here?”

It’s Carlos, one of the janitors. He’d be friendlier to me under better circumstances.

I smile. “I should ask you the same question.” Keep it light.

He doesn’t look impressed. “I work here.”

“I should ask you a different question.”

He almost looks like he might laugh, but he shakes his head instead. “What are you snooping around in here for, missy?”

“Snooping? Oh, no, it’s my mom, she-” Okay how do I want to play this. “Uh, you’re aware that she and Victor are dating, right?”

He perks up a bit. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that a while ago. Is that why you’re here?”

While this is good for me, it’s not good for mom. I can’t believe the entire hospital is aware of this while I wasn’t. Even the janitor knew. Well, Carlos knows everything that goes on in here, but that’s not the point. The point is that the entire town probably knows, if she’s been piling on the PDA like that any time I’m not around. This just keeps getting worse.

So much for ‘you’ll be the first to know.’ Fucking liar.

“Yeah, he needed a file, and mom said she’d grab it, but then someone needed her, you know how it is, eh? He was just here, actually. You just missed him. How else would I have gotten in?”

He chuckles but still looks a little defensive. I turn to the pile of folders on Victor’s desk and pretend to be looking for something specific. That’s when I see it. A folder with my name on it. Literally. Not only is this awesome in general but it makes this situation a whole lot easier.

“See, this one. It’s about me, actually.” I show him the label with Kara Rosemary Lowe written on it. I wish people would stop including my middle name in shit. But whatever. “He wanted to go over it with us, but he’s tied up right now, too. That’s why he had to leave all of a sudden.”

Carlos nods.

“He said he’ll meet me back at my room. I promise I won’t read it without him. I mean, it’s not like I’d understand it anyway.” I force a laugh and look at the folder with fake confusion. I’m totally reading this when I get out of here. “You know he was my surgeon, right?”

Carlos is relaxed now. Whew. “Yeah, I heard he insisted on it, even. Didn’t trust no one else to do it.”

“Is that right?” What the hell. I was reaching there, but he really was my surgeon? I am not giving this place a good review when I leave. Mom be damned. “Well, he did a good job.” My neck scar is going to be atrocious and I’m blaming him. “He’s probably waiting for me, actually.”

He steps aside from the door.

“It was awesome bumping into you, though.”

“Yeah.” I’m about out the door with my prize when he holds me up again. “Hey Kara?”

“Um, yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re okay. You had a lot of us really worried.”

Okay now I feel a little bad. “Thanks, I appreciate the concern. I’m doing good now.”

I hurry out of there and stuff the folder into my jacket. As soon as I’m in the nearest bathroom stall I open it up. I need to get it back into Victor’s office after Carlos leaves, but before Doctor Creep gets back. I don’t want Carlos to get into trouble, he’s a chill dude.

Unfortunately, I’m disappointed for the second time today. Or third. My cream of wheat was subpar this morning so I guess fourth time would be most accurate. But anyway, you get it. I’m not impressed.

It’s all redacted. At least I think that’s what it’s called when they use black white-out on every line of text in a document. It’s what I’ve been calling it so that’s what it’s called. But this wasn’t done on a computer, like the files on Lillian’s tablet. The black lines are shiny and slightly sticky when I poke them. Which means Doctor Creep covered this stuff up himself. And he did so thoroughly. And recently. Only bits of pieces are left, and I get a pit in my stomach as I read what little text remains. A pit like the one I had all morning the day I died.

Kara Rosemary Lowe.

Name, boring.

Bloodborne Infection Identified as

Redacted shit.

Bloodborne Infection Identified as

More redacted shit.

Mutant Bite and Infection: Origin Identified as

Still more redacted shit.

Mutant Mauling and Infection: Origin Identified as

Even more redacted shit.

Stunted Healing---Festered Wound Causes, Same Origin, Identified as

A whole three paragraphs of redacted bullshit.

Undesirable Outcome Confirmed.

My blood runs cold. My hands bend the paper trying to keep the shaking to a minimum.

If this means what I think it means, then I’m dead. They’ve decided I’m truly Undesirable. But there’s still more.

Origin of Further Ailments Unknown. Future Complications Determined. Details as Follows.

This is followed by a lot more redactions. It covers the rest of this page and all the next one. And the third page. What further ailments do I have? What does future complications mean? And why couldn’t they identify these? Why do the complications need to be redacted? And why did it take two and half pages to detail all of that?

I know I don’t have time to mull this over right now, I need to get this document back onto Victor’s desk. Carlos is a fast worker. I know because whenever I’m here and mom’s too busy to leave I’ll sometimes follow him around and chat. He’s surely finished and left by now.

I stuff the file back into my coat and hurry back towards Victor’s office.

But I’m too late.

I pull myself back around the corner just in time. Victor is entering his office.

Oh dear.

What do I do now?