chapter 7

Azreal is following Lucas around, waiting to be told to do things. He has free will, it's just barely there. Naomi and Iris are in the art room. Naomi watches Iris paint again. It's been a week since the last test. Naomi and Iris are sharing their stories while Azreal and Lucas are sharing theirs.

"That's, dark. Are you doing better now?" Naomi asks. She's sitting next to Iris again, watching her paint.

"I think, but I'm not too sure," Iris responds. She has a blindfold over her eyes, as without them, she not only sees reality. But she also sees her drawings and paintings walking around. "What are you here for?" Iris asks.

"I was just a natural they say. I won every game I played. I was a 'prodigy.' They were interested in how my brain worked. They forced me to solve all these advanced and stressful problems, but one day, I could not take it anymore," Naomi says softly.

"And when I snapped, they called me broken, I was worthless to them," she added. Tears started to fall down her cheeks. She was an outcast for being smart, yet she never asked for it. The tests made her able to predict other's future actions, which she used to her advantage. She did not care what it would do to the other person if she gained something, she felt happy. But she was not happy, she was isolated. She did not care until this moment when Iris opened her eyes again.

Iris stops moving her brush. She sets it down on a cloth next to her and faces Naomi. She takes her blindfold off. She grabs Naomi's hands and looks into her eyes.

"Naomi," she whispers. "I have seen every color, every blend and mix. But out of all of them, you are my favorite one. Even if you did use us, we will not ever call you the things they did." She hugs Naomi. She could feel tears mixed with her hoodie, but it didn't bother her.

"Well, what's your story?" Azreal asks again. This time, he's asking Lucas. His voice was monotone, but Lucas could tell he was trying to show interest in their conversation.

"I took care of people, a lot of people. I just never had anyone to take care of me. So, when I needed to release emotions and couldn't, I bottled them up, which was a terrible idea. I ended up as the one having to be taken care of, but now I'm here, and here isn't so bad," Lucas says softly. It's as if he's been waiting to get it off his chest for a while now.

"Just order me to take care of you and I will," Azreal says. He's pained by his lack of emotions, but he still tries to make jokes.

"Thank you, Azreal, for being here for me throughout all of this," Lucas says as he lies across one of the couches in his activity room.

"Of course," Azreal replies. He starts to close his eyes, hoping to fall asleep. Lucas does the same. Just being near people causes him to feel their emotions as if it's his. He's more drained than he ever was before. Soon enough, both Azreal and Lucas fall asleep on the couches. The lights eventually turn off, forgetting that they're in the room.

"Marcus, it's now or never, I've gained the evidence and I'm about to go to the police station and tell them," Evelyn sternly tells Marcus. They're outside the hospital and are in front of Evelyn's car. There was a rule the assistant had told them. The rule was that they couldn't leave the hospital, and if they did, they wouldn't be allowed back in.

"We're outside now, this is risking our entire future and career. All of this for four people, is this really what you want Evelyn?" Marcus questions, full of anger.

"I'd rather go with my feelings and be right rather than let this continue just for a bit of fame or money. These are humans we're talking about Marcus, they're just like us," Evelyn refutes.

"If they were just like us, they wouldn't be the patients here!" Marcus yells. Rain begins to fall from the clouds, and after the rain, thunder. Evelyn enters her car and rolls down the passenger's window.

"Last chance Marcus. You either come with me, or you stay there when they storm the hospital," Evelyn threatens Marcus. It's her last resort to get him on her side. The rain begins to fall harder and faster. Marcus is slowly getting drenched. He stares at Evelyn, and she stares back at him.

"Fine, I'll go with you. This better not be a mistake, Evelyn," he gives in. He opens the door and sits in the passenger seat. Evelyn hands him a brown file holder, a few manilla folders are inside of it. Each folder holds information about the hospital. The most incriminating evidence they have is illegal drugs inside of the anesthesia they had given the patients.

"Thank you for coming with me, Marcus," Evelyn says softly.

"I'll always help you," Marcus replies.