And second…she was very, very pregnant.

Oh, wow. Questions flew through my mind so fast I couldn’t harness them. Was this Mr. Beck’s baby? If so, why had he tried again with Danica? Was one kid not enough? Was this one not a boy?

“Farrah?” I said, finally. “Are you Farrah Combs?”

“I used to be,” she said, her voice higher and sweeter than I’d expected.

I glanced at Tod, but he could only shrug.

“So…you’re not Farrah Combs now?” I asked, and she shook her head slowly. “Then who are you?”

“No one,” she said. “I’m not real.” Her brown eyes widened in sudden interest. “Are you real?”

“Yeah. For a few more days, anyway…” I said, and Tod’s hand squeezed mine again. “Farrah, can I talk to you about your baby?”

She shrugged and glanced at her round belly, barely covered by the T-shirt stretched over it. “He’s not real, either. Feels real, though.” She flinched and pressed one hand against her bulging stomach.

“Can you tell me who the father is?” I asked, and she shook her head solemnly. “Please, Farrah? It’s very important.”

“I can’t…” Her voice faded into a whisper on the last sound.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s real.” She barely breathed the words, and the tears standing in her eyes made my heart ache. “He’s still real, and I was real when he touched me, but he doesn’t touch me anymore. But I remember being real.” She looked at her book again and turned a page she couldn’t possibly have seen through her tears.

“Why do you think you’re not real, Farrah?” I asked, dropping into a squat next to her bed with Tod at my side.

“He told me. I’m not real, and this place isn’t real, so none of this matters. Soon it will all be over.”

Over? My stomach clenched around nothing, and anger on Farrah’s behalf blossomed like a fresh bruise on my soul.

“Are you sure you’re real?” she asked, and I could only nod, still trying to understand what she wasn’t really saying. “What about him?” She looked right at Tod and he gave her a small smile.

“Yes, Farrah, I’m real, too.”

Her frown was a child’s pout, innocently skeptical. “You ask a lot of questions for real people.”

“Yeah, I guess we do,” I said, though I had no idea what she meant. “Farrah, what can you tell me about your baby’s father? Can you tell me his name?”

She shook her head again, and long brown hair fell over her face, half hiding one brown eye. “The baby isn’t real,” she said. “So he doesn’t get a name, either.”

I stood, frustrated, and nearly jumped out of my own skin when cloth rustledbehind me.

“Hope you’re not expecting any of that to make sense,” a new voice said, and my grip on Tod’s hand tightened as I whirled around to find another resident in the doorway. Her bright blue eyes—shadowed by dark circles—seemed to watch the entire room at once, but never quite focused on us, and I realized she couldn’t see us. Maybe she couldn’t even hear us. But she clearly knew we were there.

“There’s no message in her madness.” The new girl stepped hesitantly into the room, like a blind woman afraid of running into a wall. “No hidden code. She’s been told she doesn’t exist, so she believes it.” She took another step forward and I almost felt sorry for her, wandering around in the dark. Figuratively. “I tried telling her she does exist, but since I’m evidently not real either, she doesn’t believe me. I don’t think she even hears me.”

“She can’t see or hear us,” Tod whispered, and I knew by his volume alone that he was unnerved. “How the hell does she know we’re here?”

“Maybe you’re not as good at this as you think you are,” I whispered, my gaze glued to the new girl. Who was starting to look vaguely, uncomfortably familiar.

He shook his head. “I’m every bit as good as I think I am.”

“If you’re going to hang out in my room, show yourself. Loitering unseen is rude, you know.”

I glanced at Tod and he shrugged, waiting for my opinion. And finally I nodded.

I knew the moment Farrah’s roommate saw us because she gave a startled little yip and kind of jumped back, bumping her hip against the shelves bolted to the wall. “Two of you. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Sorry,” I said, and the roommate’s gaze narrowed on me like my face was a puzzle she needed to solve.

“Thanks for…showing up. I was starting to think I really was losing it.”

“Are you sure you’re not?” Tod asked, and I elbowed him in the ribs. No fair making the residents doubt their own sanity. They got enough of that from the doctors.

“As sure as I am that you’re standing there,” the roommate said. Then she laughed at her own joke, and discomfort crawled over my skin. I hate nut-job humor like Emma hates blond jokes.

“How did you know we were here?” Tod asked, his grip tight around my hand, suspicious frown trained on the newcomer.

“Because Farrah doesn’t talk to herself. She doesn’t talk to anyone, actually. At least, no one the rest of us can see. And I’ve seen enough to know that just because I can’t see something doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” Her focus shifted to me again, and again she seemed to be looking for something in my eyes. “You don’t remember me do you?”