'I can do this.'

Lisa balked as she gazed at her reflection, sodden from where she had rinsed her weary eyes with a jolt of cold water. Palms gripping the basin tightly, she tapped a foot impatiently against the tile, ignoring the curious gaze of passing co-workers that jostled in and out of the stalls.

Though it had only been a few days, caring for Alessa had taken its toll on the girl, who had started using PTV more frequently, and at a higher dosage than was healthy. Now she finally realized why addicts were willing to sell their soul in exchange for drugs.

Entering that room was like being confined to an oubliette, smeared in loneliness and menace. Despite the dim light, there was no denying the strange pulsating made by the walls, as though it were a womb weeping the loss of a foetus; a body missing a soul.

Disturbing groans and mechanical noises resonated through her ears like a hellish orchestra tearing at her sanity. Nausea swelled in her gut, regardless of whether or not she had eaten, leaving the nurse heaving over the toilet bowl, undignified and afraid.

It often seemed as though the child was calling out to her, gasping low, struggling breaths that drifted through the air like whispers. Lisa couldn't make out the words, if they were words at all, no longer sure of anything, and confused by the warped reality that seemed to exist in that dark, confined space.

'It has to be the drug. I'm just seeing things, that's all.'

Nails tapping the white surface, she noted that her flesh looked more ashen than usual, as though the very essence of colour had been drained from her world.

A headache irritated her skull, reverberating back and forth like a collection of guitar strings strumming against her temples. With a sigh, she cupped her hands beneath the clear fluid, leaning in to gulp down the refreshing liquid.

It was simply impossible to fathom how the Gillespie girl was still alive, having believed the brittle creature would perish after the first twenty-four hours had passed. Sometimes she wondered whether to remove the life support, ending both the child's misery and her own.

As wicked as those thoughts were, Lisa didn't believe she could ever accomplish something so cruel. Besides, a sneaking suspicion told her that Alessa would still survive somehow. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was certainly some untold secret lurking beyond the veil Kaufman had placed over her eyes.

Returning to the eerily quiet foyer, Lisa paused upon hearing a woman's muffled voice resonating from beyond the director's office. Sneaking towards the growing noise, she lingered before the ominous wood, eavesdropping on their hushed conversation.

Dahlia had been coming to see the doctor quite regularly, often in regards to her ailing daughter. Though the man refused to divulge specific information, Lisa doubted that the unpleasant woman held any good intentions.

In her late thirties, the mother looked much older, with long unkempt hair that concealed her sly, hostile mien. An aura of distrust seemed to flow wherever she went, and the intern considered her an irritating and meddlesome person.

'How much longer is this going to continue?' The man's low growl questioned.

'Soon.' The Gillespie replied, sounding eager. 'I'm hoping to complete it soon.'

'Good, make sure you do. If someone were to find her down there...'

'Do not fret.' She interrupted, chuckling quietly to herself. 'Everything is going as planned. A new dawn is about to befall us, cleansing this smeared world of its sin.'

Kaufman scoffed. 'Nothing you say makes any sense. Regardless, I care little about your plans, so long as you are able to provide me with my payment.'

'In due time, doctor. All in due time.'

With that, the voices dissipated into humid air, an empty requiem leaving a hollow space where life had once been. Slumping against the wall, the teen tried to decipher the mysterious woman's words, bewildered and confused by each line that she spoke.

It wasn't difficult to discern that the older Gillespie was suspect in regards to the strange house fire, yet the girl refused to accept that a mother could do something so monstrous to her own flesh and blood. Just who was this woman?

Lisa didn't believe in the occult. She considered magic and witchcraft to be nothing more than silly fantasy. Her grandfather's tales had left her spellbound as an adolescent, but with adulthood came cynicism and doubt.

Now she was beginning to wonder whether such things were real. Perhaps some mystical incantation had allowed Alessa to continue living, long after others would have died? Shaking her head, the intern found it hard to believe such ludicrous nonsense, but there was no logical explanation.

Quickly fitting fractured pieces together, the young nurse was able to figure out that Kaufman was accepting money from Dahlia in exchange for keeping Alessa obscured inside the basement. How the owner of a tiny antique store was able to acquire such funds remained unknown, but the teen was certain Dahlia wasn't working alone.

Just what had she gotten herself into?

The abrupt rattle of a doorknob startled the intern, causing her to yelp when the door flew open, barely missing her as she skidded back to avoid injury. Shaking slightly, she spun and hurried off in the opposite direction, trying to avoid being seen.

Nose in the air as she walked, Dahlia strut towards the exit, behaving as though the entire world was soiled and stagnant beneath her feet. With nary a passing glance, she disappeared beyond the fog, silhouette fading in the hazy sheen.

Hiding behind a corner, the nurse watched as her boss stood in the doorway of his office, fists clenched and brow furrowed as he tried to contain his anger. It was obvious that the mother had ruffled him, something which very few people were capable of.

Taking a moment to calm herself, she smoothed out her uniform before plastering a content smile on her face, walking towards the man with feigned indifference as she obfuscated all knowledge about their confidential meeting.

'Something wrong?' She quizzed, doing her best to appear casual. 'You look upset.'

He grunted in response, turning to storm back inside his office. The door remained open, swinging slightly in the soft breeze that drifted from the street. Fidgeting hesitantly where she stood, Lisa jumped when the man barked at her.

'Well, are you coming in or aren't you!?'

Stepping into the humid space, she slammed the door more harshly than she would have usually done, irked by Kaufman's rude attitude. Leaning against the wood with her arms folded at the chest, she peered at him from beneath her fringe, watching as he yanked open a desk drawer to remove a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

Unscrewing the lid, he poured a little of the substance in each one, leaning back in his chair whilst carefully pushing the remaining glass towards her. It slid to a stop at the edge of the wood, sending drops of liquid splattering across the surface.

'You drink?' He queried, tapping the tip of his glass.

The girl shook her head. 'No.'

'You do now.' He replied, gesturing to the waiting seat.

Tentatively sitting down, she took her drink and examined it closely, tilting the glass just enough to sniff the golden brown fluid. A strong aroma tickled her nostrils, invading her senses and making the teen recoil.

It wasn't the most pleasant odour she had ever inhaled, but it certainly wasn't the worst. Alcohol was another forbidden fruit of her family, and despite both her mother and father indulging in it from time to time, she was prohibited from doing so.

'You're not going to try it?' He quizzed, curiously lifting a single eyebrow.

'I'm not supposed to...'

The man released a spiteful laugh. 'It can't be any worse than PTV.'

Lowering her gaze, the intern realized how silly her argument must have sounded. In truth, she was reluctant to try the brandy because of it's overpowering stench, rather than any loyalty to her parents. Lifting her shoulder in a lazy shrug, she gulped back the alcohol.

Spluttering at the flavour, her face contorted into an ugly scowl as she gagged on the taste, wiping her drenched lips with the back of her hand. With a bland expression, the director finished his own, placing the glass down on the ring of moisture that had formed.

'Did I forget to mention that it's quite strong?' He stated, pouring himself another shot. 'Try sipping at it next time.'

Frowning, the nurse took another, more cautious drink, able to swallow without coughing, but still not entirely enjoying the foul brew. This wasn't something she could grow accustomed to. Cupping the brandy in her lap, she had no intention of finishing it.

Kaufman downed another, moving to pour himself a third glass. His normally cool and controlled demeanour was slowly coming apart at the seams, plucked by the Gillespie's talons as she whittled down the director's patience.

It was apparent that he had underestimated his involvement in her scheme, and whatever she had planned, it seemed that Kaufman was now regretting his decision. Placing her almost empty cup on the desk, Lisa let both hands settle on her knees.

'You seem tense.'

He made a rude sound, swirling the amber fluid with a flick of his wrist. When he didn't reply, the intern shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The man never gave her a straight answer, and she found this frustrating.

Lifting her head to the ceiling, she closed her eyes and waited until he was ready to speak, knowing that there was some reason for him inviting her into his office. Being a private person, he only ever did so when there was important information to share.

'How is the girl?' He asked, in relation to Alessa.

'No change.' His employee remarked, bringing her gaze to him. 'I can't understand how she's still alive. It's not possible.'

'Do you believe in miracles?'

She shook her head. 'Miracles don't save lives.'

'Then perhaps you're just good at your job?'

Unamused by his reaction, the girl sighed loud enough to display her annoyance, turning to eye the bookcase to her left. Almost every item on the shelf pertained to something medical, as she would have expected from someone working in the field of medicine.

None of them were particularly interesting, but they served their purpose of making the room look professional. Most were gathered in dust, and it became apparent that the man was too lazy to keep his room clean. She smiled at the thought, unable to imagine him doing any sort of domestic chore.

'How much of our conversation did you hear?' Kaufman enquired, glancing slyly at her from above his glass. 'And don't pretend that you didn't listen.'

'What do you mean?' She struggled to keep her voice steady, heart pounding as she forced bright eyes to remain on his.

'You're not quiet.' He said, turning to face her. 'I saw you run when I opened the door. Now tell me, how much did you hear?'

Cursing her own curiosity, Lisa reluctantly confessed. 'Only a little, but I've no idea what she was talking about. It all seemed like gibberish.'

'As expected. That crazy woman talks in riddles.'

A brief quiet befell the pair, almost peaceful in the silence of his warm office. Letting herself slump where she sat, the woman tediously examined her nails, running fingertips over the chipped edges with dwindling interest.

'Was Dahlia here to see Alessa?' She finally asked, hoping the man would reveal more about their intriguing discussion. 'I bet she gets lonely down there, all by herself.'

'What Gillespie does is of no concern to you. The only thing you need to worry about is taking care of the girl.'

Deciding to ignore his warning tone, Lisa continued with her interrogation. 'Dahlia started the fire, didn't she?'

The man poured himself another drink, obviously unwilling to answer her question. Stubborn and persistent, she leaned forward until both her palms were pressed against the desk, determined to uncover the truth.

'Her own daughter! How can you justify and condone something so terrible? She's just a child, and you're being paid to keep her like that.' She spat, pointing at the floor to indicate the basement.

'What are you going to do, call the police?' He suggested, nonchalantly raising a hand. Lisa hesitated, dejectedly bowing her head in defeat. Satisfied, the doctor leaned back in the leather of his chair, soft fabric yielding beneath his weight. 'We all do unpleasant things sometimes. You're not exactly a paragon of perfection.'

'But...' She began, losing her courage when he threw her a glare.

'Listen to me. Even if Dahlia did start that fire, you have no proof to support the accusation. All we can do is keep Alessa comfortable, and do our best to treat her accordingly.'

'I guess.' She shrugged, uncertainty creeping into her voice.

He was right. Going to the police would have a devastating effect on not only her career, but also her personal life. There was nothing to suggest the woman was guilty beyond speculation, and no sane person would ever believe her crazy anecdotes of magic and witchcraft. She hardly believed them herself.

And what of this "occult?" If Gillespie's ramblings held any truth, then how could Lisa be sure that members of the police weren't also affiliated with her? How could she be sure Kaufman wasn't a zealot, worshipping whatever idol it was that those people adored?

Deflated from her efforts, and emotionally drained from the weeks events, the teenager got up to leave, not even waiting for the man's permission. She needed some time alone, solitude away from the beep and whine of noisy equipment.

'Leaving so soon?' He asked, rhetorically.

'I've got work to do.'

'Of course.' Putting the remaining brandy back in the drawer, Kaufman checked his watch. 'Miss Garland, are you free this afternoon?'

'Excuse me?' She paused, hand brushing the doorknob.

'Riverside Motel isn't far. They have a lovely suite there. Lots of flowers and hearts. Very romantic. Would you care to join me?'

Dumbfounded, the nurse let her mouth hang open for a moment, mien contorting into an expression of bewilderment. 'That's sudden. What happened to your surly exterior?'

'You're welcome to say no.'

'I don't need anymore PTV.'

He smiled. 'This isn't an exchange. It's merely two people letting off steam.'

It was appealing, even if she didn't want to admit it. Her stiff shoulders betrayed her tension, and she could tell from the director's body language that he was also aching. It would be nice, she thought, to have something other than Alessa on her mind.

'What's wrong with the other motel?'

'I like to keep things interesting. Unless you'd prefer the company of that grim hole?'

Before she decided to change her mind, and in no rush to hurry back to the glum bedrooms of Haerbay Inn, the young woman gave him a small nod, body yearning for his touch despite her mind's protests. In the end, her demands outweighed her sense.

'What time do we meet?'

Tilting his head to one side, the director clasped his hands together, examining her. 'What time is your break?'