He laughed out loud, and the bitter cackle caught me completely off guard. “You’re the hallucination. The rest of us are real.”

The weird parallel between his psychosis and Farrah’s chilled me from the inside out, but arguing with him would do no good.

“No way.” Scott shook his head, talking to the wall again. “He wants more. Something bigger.” He paused as the wall presumably answered, and the smile that crawled over Scott’s face then made me want to hold my breath and throw salt over my shoulder. “Now you’re talkin’.”

“Scott, who are you talking to?” I asked, creeped out to realize that whatever he was talking about was starting to make a weird kind of sense. Nothing I could quite understand, but definitely not lunacy.

“I don’t know!” he shouted, and I jumped, then glanced at the door, worried it would fly open and the room would be overrun with needle-bearing aides. “I’m not talking to you,” he insisted, a little quieter. “Because you’re not supposed to talk! Go away! Goawaygoawaygoawaygoaway!”

I opened my mouth, but before I could think of what to say, the door flew open and a large male aide—Charles, according to his name tag—burst into the room. I stood frozen, pulse racing so fast my vision was starting to blur. I’d been caught. I’d be arrested, and handcuffed, and driven to the police station in the back of the car.

“Okay, Scott, calm down…” Charles started, both hands outstretched, and I realized this was a familiar performance for them both. But when he saw me, the aide’s voice faltered, and I was pretty sure he was doubting his own sanity in the brief silence. Then, “Who are you? You’re not a resident.”

They never called us—er, them—patients. Always residents, like people resided at Lakeside by choice.

My hands opened and closed. I was starting to sweat, and my chest ached until I realized I wasn’t breathing. I opened my mouth and sucked in a deep breath, but that didn’t fix anything. Tod wasn’t back. I was still trapped.

“She’s not real,” Scott whispered, glancing from me to the aide, then back. “Make her go away.”

Charles scowled at me, part confusion, part anger. “You can’t be here. How did you even get in here?”

“I…” But that’s where my words ran out.

I could run, but I’d never get past Charles. He was big, and part of his job was restraining residents, when the need arose. And even if I got past him, I couldn’t get out of the locked ward.

Each breath came faster than the last, but I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t even slow them. There was only one way out, and I desperately didn’t want to take it. If hellions and assorted monsters hung out across the world barrier fromthe high school, I didn’t want to know what was lurking in the Netherworld version of a mental health facility. Insane hellions? Was there any other kind?

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the entire room and both of the other occupants. Pulse racing, I tried to think about death. To remember those I’d witnessed so that my wail for them would help me cross into the Netherworld.

But the only death I could think about was my own, and I can’t wail for myself.

“Security!” Charles shouted, and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, still trying.

A warm hand took a strong grip on mine, and I screamed and tried to jerk away. But he held tight. An instant later, the hum of the air conditioner faded into silence and my ears popped.

Then, suddenly the world felt warm and humid. Cicadas chirruped all around me, and that hand still held mine, its grip confident, but looser now.

“You okay?” Tod asked, and I opened my eyes to find him watching me, dark blond brows drawn low over blue eyes still brilliant in the setting sun. We were in the parking lot, by the trash bins, almost exactly where we’d stood half an hour earlier.

“That was… What was that?” I demanded, as my pulse finally began to slow.

“That was me taking some of the tarnish off this old armor.” He pretended to brush dust off the front of his shirt.

“You call that a rescue?”

Tod frowned. “You don’t?”

“That aide was about to haul me out of the room!” I pulled Lydia’s robe off in several angry movements, surprised to see that my hands were still shaking from the close call.

“It’s more fun when you’re almost caught.”

“That’s not almost. I was caught.” As evidenced by the remnants of panicked adrenaline still burning in my veins.

“Well, now you’re un-caught. And for the record, you’re the second chick I’ve snatched from the jaws of the mental health industry tonight.” His eyes shined in the dying light, and I couldn’t resist a small smile. Yes, I’d been caught and nearly suffered a fatal aneurysm from the shock—several days early, by my count—but it was over now, and I’d gotten what I needed.

“So, you what? Just blinked us both out of there? So that aide saw us disappear?”

Tod’s brows rose. “What kind of amateur do you think I am? He only saw you disappear. He never saw me at all.”

“That makes two of us. I was starting to worry about you.” I dropped Lydia’s robe on the sidewalk and headed for my car.

“Sorry.” Tod fell into step beside me. “It was a little more complicated than I expected.”

“But she’s okay?” I asked.