CHAPTER 9

Thomas falls asleep, clearly exhausted by our conversation. I change the cloth on his forehead and sit by him in silence for a while before Clint and Jeff walk through the door. Clint is holding a tray with a cheeseburger and a salad.

'You hungry?' he asks with a grin. I gratefully nod my head and take the tray.

Jeff looks at Thomas. 'Did Tommy wake up?'

'Yeah,' I say with a nod. 'We talked for a while.'

'Did he talk about what he remembered?' Jeff eyes me suspiciously.

'Um…' I say, 'a little bit, yeah.' I figure Thomas doesn't want me to talk about everything he said. Most of it was personal between him and me anyway. 'Not much though, he couldn't say anything.'

Clint nods, a solemn look on his face. 'He's going to be different. They always are. Something about the Changing… it's insane. You didn't know him for more than two days, Grace, but he was always smiling, always joking around. He always knew what to say to make us laugh. I hope he doesn't lose that.'

I look at Thomas and suddenly I feel a wave of guilt. I've been so focused on what he was telling me, I nearly forgot how much pain he went through to remember. Then something jumps to my mind. When Newt was carrying him… he said something.

I… I had to.

What does that mean? He had to… what? Get Stung? No one in their right mind would do that on purpose. And yet… right before he fell asleep he mentioned he would figure out his real name when we got out of here. Not if, not maybe, but when. Did he choose that word on purpose, or am I reading too far into what he said?

Clint interrupts my thoughts. 'Grace, you look exhausted. How about you go get some sleep? Me and Jeff can keep an eye on Thomas for a while. If anything changes, one of us will come get you.'

I nod. I hate to admit it, but I am exhausted. Sleep sounds amazing right now. I finish my cheeseburger and salad, grab the empty tray, and make my way to the dining room to put it away.

When I get to the dining room, I notice Newt sitting in a corner, alone. I consider going to talk to him, but for some reason I can't. It's not my responsibility to make sure he's okay. He's the one over-reacting after all. He looks up and shoots me a glare, reenforcing my idea. I'm not going to talk to him. If he changes his mind, he can come talk to me. I place my tray on a table and walk away, back to my treehouse.

The Glade seems to glow in the sunset. The grass reflects beams of yellow and orange, as do the leaves on the trees. I look over to the Deadheads, which look even more eerie in the setting sun. I'm guessing it's around 8:30, which means I had talked to Thomas for at least an hour and a half. I think I'm getting good at reading the sun's position to figure out the time.

I climb my ladder, crawl onto the floor, stand up, and walk to the small wooden drawers that hold a few sets of clothes. I rummage through the drawers and try to find something to sleep in. I find a pair of sweatpants that are much too big for me, as well as an oversized blue shirt. Much like the other clothes I've worn since I got here, they are obviously made for a boy. I laugh at the thought.

I lay in my hammock and take a deep breath. It's only been three days. I feel like I've been here a lifetime. Today felt like it lasted years. I became a Medjack. I learned that two guys that I just met love me. And I might love both of them. I might have ruined everything with Newt. He can't even look at me. And Thomas… he remembers, whatever that means. I need him to tell me more.

The story he told me about us seems familiar, and I can feel my brain trying to process it, trying desperately to remember, but it can't. And all of a sudden, I don't even feel as though I own my name.

Grace.

The name feels like graffiti, ruining a beautiful mural. It's etched unnaturally into my brain, hiding my true name. My mind tries despairingly to scrape away the graffiti covering the truth, and yet I can't. No matter how hard I try, all I am is Grace.

Newt described that feeling of hopelessness he felt.

I know now what he meant.

I feel it too.

I'm laying on a white table, strapped by the wrists and ankles, unable to move.

A stern-looking woman stands over me, holding a clipboard. She scribbles something down and bites her lip.

'How odd,' she says, tapping the clipboard with her pen. 'Darling, do you remember what I just asked you?'

I try to nod, but realize there is a restraint across my head, preventing me from moving. I say, 'Yes. You asked about my mother. I told you, she is dead. She was killed by a man with a large gun. That man took me here.'

The woman looks at her clipboard again, and then turns to a man who is wearing spectacles and an identical white lab coat. I only catch a few words of what she says: 'highest dosage… still remembers… memories…'

Before I know it, I feel a surge of energy, coursing through me. I look out the window of the lab room and see Thomas. He's looking at me, wide-eyed, in horror.

Wait… what's his name?

Oh, yeah. Thomas. My best friend. My boyfriend.

Thomas.

The pain is gone, the energy that was surging through my veins has disappeared. All of a sudden I realize.

They're trying to wipe my memory.

Thomas… my boyfriend. My mother… who they took from me. My father… he left before I was born. I am an only child. I love helping people. I want to be a doctor when I grow up. I cannot let them take my memories away from me. I cling to all that I know, all that I hold dear.

Thomas. Mother. Doctor.

Thomas… Doctor…

I open my eyes.

'Hello, dear.' says a stern looking woman, holding a clipboard. 'Can you tell me about your mother?'

'My… mother?' I furrow my brow. 'I don't know… I can't…'

'It's okay, dear,' the woman says sweetly. 'Don't think too hard.' She looks at a bespectacled man in a lab coat that looks exactly like hers and nods.

Restraints around my wrists, ankles, and forehead open. I didn't even realize they were there.

'Sit up, Grace,' the woman says. Grace? Oh, yes. That's me. 'Dr. Phillips will take you to your room.' I glance at the window again. That boy… that black haired boy… he's still standing there, looking terrified. He's very good looking. What's his name again? Oh right. Thomas. My boyfriend. And I want to be a doctor.