“You don’t really think we’re in any danger, do you, Amy?”

Even though Spider-Dan is safely back in his room, I can’t seem to stop shaking. I’ve been sitting on the couch in the patient

lounge for the last five minutes, unable to get myself to leave. I can’t stop hearing the words echoing in my ears:

Damon Sawyer wants to kill every single one of us tonight.

“Sawyer’s locked up in that seclusion room,” Cameron points out. “He’s in restraints.”

Is he though? I heard him slamming his body against the door, which I’m not sure he could have done if he was restrained.

“And even if he weren’t,” Cam adds, “there’s no way out of the room.

Not without the code.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Dr. Beck didn’t look worried.”

That’s not entirely true. When I suggested that Sawyer might have gotten out of his restraints, Dr. Beck looked decidedly concerned, although he seemed to be trying to hide it for our sakes. After all, one of the first things he told us when we got here was that the patient in the seclusion room was dangerous. He made a point of telling us to avoid the room for our own safety.

“Look,” Cam says. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

“Well, that’s a comfort,” I mutter. “Amy…”

“I don’t know why you keep acting like we’re great friends,” I say. “We weren’t friends before, and we’re not friends now.”

He considers my statement for a moment. “Listen,” he says. “I brought you something.”

He digs into the pocket of his scrub shirt, and to my total surprise, he comes up with a packet of Ring Dings. I can’t even believe it when I see them. Ring Dings are like my favorite sweet treat in the entire world. I have a rule that I can’t buy them for myself, since I would just gorge myself. I like them better than a chocolate soufflé or any kind of other fancy desserts. They’re like the perfect food—you’ve got the creamy center, the chocolate cake, and then the chocolate coating. What more do you need out of life?

I have to admit, the sight of those snack cakes does make me feel better. “You brought that for me?” I ask.

“Well, I saw you were going to be here with me tonight, and I know they’re your favorite…”

Cameron’s hair is falling slightly in his eyes again, and once again, I get the urge to push it away. That’s the sort of thing I used to do before he broke up with me for a test. It’s one of the first things I did before he kissed me for the first time.

It was at a party. Where else? One of those medical school parties, celebrating the end of yet another exam, with far too much alcohol. As opposed to college parties, by now we were all old enough to buy alcohol without a fake ID, so we always went a little nuts.

It took place the night of our big pathology exam. I had studied so hard for that exam, but this was one of the times it didn’t pay off. The exam was just so random. Our professor, Dr. Miller, asked questions along the lines of, “In the textbook, what did it say on page 121 paragraph three about the etiology of lung cancer?” That was an actual question on the test. How do you answer something like that? The only way is to look at the four choices, close your eyes, and point randomly to one of them.

So that night, I was utterly convinced I was going to fail and determined to get drunk enough to forget it.

I was only on my second beer of the night when I literally bumped into Cameron Berger while I was on my way to the bathroom. It was easy to bump into him, because he took up about ninety percent of the hallway.

I had never been friendly with Cameron. He hung out in a different crowd than I did. Weirdly, medical school reverted to high school social

patterns: there were the popular kids, the geeks, the stoners—you get the idea. Cam was one of the more popular kids in our class—very good- looking and had top grades and an easy kind of charm. He even had these white, perfectly straight teeth. It was almost maddening. Mostly, my friends and I made fun of him for being just a little too perfect. For trying just a little too hard.

But this time Cam had that same haunted look as a lot of the other kids at the party. The look of somebody who was pretty sure he had failed pathology. And he was somebody who really wanted that top grade. After all, how else was he going to match in an orthopedic surgery residency?

I raised my beer bottle. Screw Dr. Miller, I said, which was the official toast of the night.

He stared at me for a moment, then his face broke into a smile. And I realized for the first time that his teeth weren’t quite as perfect as I had thought. His second incisor on the left had a tiny chip on it, which he later told me was from a football tackle. Screw Dr. Miller, he said.

And thank God for grading on a curve, I added.

We hope, he said.

We hope, I agreed soberly.

For a moment, I almost felt like I needed to introduce myself, even though we had been classmates for an entire year in a class of only a hundred students. I hardly knew him, yet I knew him really well. I already knew he wanted to do ortho, he played college football, and he asked way too many questions in class about the professors’ research. I also knew he had a girlfriend in our class named Jess, although rumor had it, the two of them were on the rocks—and she had left the party half an hour earlier, claiming to be sick to her stomach.

But one thing I didn’t know about Cam and learned later that night was that he was a very good kisser. And also, after that last beer, he stopped drinking so that he would be sober enough to drive me home safely.

I didn’t expect to fall in love with him though. I thought after we made out that night, he would wake up in the morning, thinking to himself, Oh God, what did I do last night? I didn’t expect him to call me the next morning to see if I was feeling okay and ask if I felt up for having some dinner. When I asked him about Jess, he told me he had just officially broken up with her.

Because of me, apparently.

I definitely didn’t expect to date him for an entire year. And when he dumped me, I didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Even though it pains me, I put the Ring Dings down on the couch. “I don’t want this,” I say.

“Of course you do.”

“No, I don’t,” I snip at him. “I don’t want your Ring Dings. I don’t want your protection.” I grit my teeth. “Frankly, it would be perfectly fine with me if I didn’t see you ever again.”

Cam’s shoulders sag. “I know you’re mad…”

“I’m not mad,” I say. “You did the right thing. I mean, it’s not like we were going to get married someday. It’s good you ended it. Now you can have lots of hot sex this year with nurses.”

“Amy!” Cameron’s broad face turns pink. “That’s not what I want.” “Liar.”

He brushes the hair out of his own eyes. “What if I made a mistake?”

Is he serious about this? Because if he is, I really might lose it tonight. Yes, it sucked when he broke up with me. But it’s over. It’s done. I can’t start this up again. If for no other reason, because Gabby will legit kill me if she has to comfort me through another breakup with Cameron Berger.

“Cam, don’t do this,” I say.

“Why not?” He offers a lopsided smile. “You can’t say we weren’t good together.”

I am about to tell him exactly why getting back together would be a terrible mistake when I realize we’re no longer alone in the patient lounge. Unsurprisingly, a patient has wandered into the room. I look up and recognize Will Schoenfeld. The guy who hears voices telling him to kill people. Well, used to hear voices telling him to kill people.

Or so he says.

“Hey.” Will stares down at the two of us huddled together on the couch. “Is this room free? I was going to play the piano.”

“Uh…” Cam looks up at Will, who is already walking over to the piano in the corner of the room. “We should go back to the staff lounge. We can grab dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say, hoping Cam can’t hear my stomach growl as I say the words.

“You’re welcome to listen to me play,” Will says as he sits down at the piano bench. He cracks his knuckles, then he rests his fingers on the keys. A

second later, the sound of Mozart fills the room.

Cam gives me a look like he wants me to come with him, but I don’t budge from the couch. Thankfully, he doesn’t push me. I watch him stalk out of the room, his heavy footsteps accompanying the sound of music drifting from the piano.

“Any requests?” Will asks me.

“What you’re playing is fine.” I close my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. He’s really good. Almost professional level, but what do I know? “Are you practicing for anything in particular?”

Will grins at me. “Actually, I just came in because it sounded like you were trying to end that conversation.”

I can’t help it—I laugh. My first laugh the whole damn night. “So… what is he? Your ex-boyfriend?” he asks.

“That’s kind of a personal question…”

“Hmm. It feels like you asked me a lot of personal questions.” I close my eyes again. “That’s different.”

“Fine, you want me to shut up,” Will acknowledges good-naturedly. “Okay, I get it.”

He goes back to playing the piano, and it’s nice to zone out to the music. It’s sad that somebody with so much talent had their brain crap out on them like that. But isn’t that what they say? That people with incredible talent are more susceptible to mental illness? Or maybe I just made that up.

Whatever is going on in his brain, Will seems like a nice guy. He did rescue me from an uncomfortable conversation with Cameron. Maybe he could help me out with some of my other questions.

“Hey,” I say. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure. Shoot.”

“How dangerous is that patient in the seclusion room?”

Will’s fingers freeze on the keys. “You heard about that guy?”

“A little. His name is Damon Sawyer, right?” I study his face. “Did you know him?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “I’ve only been here a couple of days, and he mostly stayed in his own room.”

“But you knew he was in seclusion…”

He isn’t playing the piano anymore. He turns on the bench to look at me. “They stuck him in there last night. They told us all to stay in our rooms so I didn’t see the commotion, but I could hear it. We all could.”

“Hear what?”

Will’s Adam’s apple bobs. “He was screaming. Screaming that he was going to kill everyone here. It was pretty disturbing, to be honest.”

I would definitely agree with that assessment. “But he’s locked in seclusion now.”

“Right. They tied him up in restraints and everything.” I frown. “How do you know about that?”

“I could hear him screaming about it.” Will shakes his head. “I don’t know what he was doing that made them stick him in there, but the guy is obviously disturbed. Really disturbed.”

“So if he heard voices telling him to kill people, he would do it?” Will drops his eyes. “Yeah. I’d imagine so.”

A chill goes through me, and I hug myself, rubbing my upper arms with my hands. “Dr. Beck said he’s leaving tomorrow. They’re putting him somewhere more secure.”

“Good.”

Will stands up from the piano bench. All the humor seems to have disappeared from his face, and he is still avoiding my eyes. “I’m going to head back to my room. The meds… They really make me tired.”

“It’s worth it though, right?” He hesitates. “Yes. Of course.”

“Okay. Well, thanks for the music.”

“No problem.” He lingers for a moment at the piano, and he looks like he wants to tell me something. But then he shakes his head. “Good night, Amy.”

“Good night,” I say.

Although really, the night has just begun.