I was still shivering when Floyd stopped outside a sturdy looking door. The once white paint was flaking off of it and there was a lock which I assumed was slammed into place at night.
This was where I was going to be staying for the rest of my—
No. Carter would know what to do. He would have a plan for how to get out of this situation. I just had to see him.
After my appointment, The Warden had said. I would be able to see him after my appointment with Dr. Peterson. Then I would talk to the two brothers, and we would devise a way out of this.
He was Caspian Rogers, after all. There was nothing he couldn't do.
Floyd forced the door open and shoved me in.
The walls had surely been white at some point, but now they were more of a dusty beige, peeling in the corners. The floor was sticky, filthy wood.
The Warden had taken my slippers along with my gown, telling me I'd find new shoes waiting for me when I got to my room. As I stepped over the unclean floor, I grimaced and felt my stomach roll as I saw a foreign gooey substance puddling around my feet.
Every available space in the room was taken up by a bed. Wall to wall, every square inch was covered with cots.
The beds were packed so close together that I wasn't even sure how anyone could manage to get into them. They were situated so the head of one bed sat beside the foot of another, presumably so no one would be breathing into another person's mouth while they slept.
An abnormal, toxic smell circulated the air. A single window was cut into one of the walls, offering a small glimpse of the night sky—had it truly only been a day since I'd been paraded away from Lady Josephina's home?—but it was closed, doing nothing to get rid of the obnoxious odor.
And the noises...it was so loud in this single room, I half-expected the floor beneath my feet to tremble with the force of it. But the most terrifying thing about it was that none of the women were actually speaking to each other. They simply stared at one another absently and burst out with unnatural sounds.
I turned back around, meeting Floyd's eyes. I do not know why I thought if he saw my desperation it would change anything. But looking into that incredibly packed room, my body felt like it might literally revolt and take off in the opposite direction as fast as my feet would carry me.
"You may choose any unclaimed bed," was all he said before slamming the door shut behind him. Faintly, I heard the lock click shut as he deadbolted it.
I had to take several shallow breaths before I could see straight. The smell burned my nostrils and it took everything in me not to slam my palms against the door and plead to be released.
Giving myself one more moment, I started moving along the edges of the room, searching for an unclaimed bed.
Women in gowns identical to mine bounced on their mattresses, the springs groaning each time. Others simply sat and stared into oblivion, hardly blinking. Still more women cackled, their mouths gaping open and their eyes popped wide.
There, in the very corner, I saw an empty bed. The woman in the cot next to it was turned on her side, apparently already asleep. Perfect.
I shimmied through the tightly packed metal frames until I reached my bed. Climbing over the low footboard, I slipped under the frail sheets. The bed itself felt both hard and moist, like someone had been sweating excessively and no one had changed out the covers. I squeezed my eyes shut and clamped my mouth shut when I thought I felt something crawl over my foot.
