Free Glow by Amy Kathleen Ryan Page A

foot of Waverly’s bed and was holding on to the railing with white knuckles. The nurse laughed and put her hand on Felicity’s shoulder. The girl seemed to wilt under her touch.
    “It’s time you got some sleep, Waverly.” Anne Mather nodded at the nurse, who went to a cabinet. From a drawer she pulled a vial and pierced its membrane with a needle.
    “What’s that? What are you doing?” Panic rose like acid in Waverly’s throat. She started to get up, but the nurse pushed the needle into a tube that ran into her arm. She hadn’t noticed it there, all this time.
    Were they keeping her drugged? Was that why Waverly felt so weak?
    “Sleep now, child,” Anne Mather murmured in her ear. “And when you’re well enough to help us with the other girls, we’ll take you off these medicines and you can join the group. Do you understand?”
    “So if I don’t help, you’ll keep me like this?” Waverly asked, her voice already muffled.
    No answer came, but she felt dry fingers stroking her cheek. Then they moved down her neck, cupping her larynx for one brief, terror-stricken moment.
    Waverly wanted to lift her arms to Felicity, beg the girl to stay with her, but her arms were so heavy. She saw the shadow of Anne Mather next to the nurse, and the two women spoke in whispers. What were they going to do to her once she was asleep and helpless, alone in the dark? She struggled to keep her eyes open, but they felt as though they were filling with sand, and soon they were too full, too heavy not to close. The smallest part of her wandered away into a corner deep inside herself.
    All sound and light disappeared, and finally she felt safe.

DORMITORY
     
    When Waverly opened her eyes, she saw the nurse, Magda, standing over her with a syringe. “What time is it?” Waverly said, her voice sluggish.
    “Okay, then,” Magda said brightly. “Do you want to join your friends, or do you want to sleep?”
    “I want to see my friends,” Waverly said. Her mouth was so dry, her lips stuck together.
    Magda put down the syringe and sat on the edge of Waverly’s bed. “Pastor Mather will be glad to hear that.”
    Waverly looked with longing at the water jug on the table next to her bed. Magda seemed to understand, and she heaved the jug up, wincing with the weight of it, and poured a glass of water for Waverly. The girl sat up and drank, then poured herself another glass, and another, before finally leaning back against her pillows. The water revived her incredibly. She even felt strong enough to make a demand. “I want to see the other girls right now.”
    “Pastor Mather will want to speak with you first.” Magda pressed a button on the table next to Waverly’s bed. “In the meantime, let’s get you bathed and dressed.”
    The woman drew a bath for Waverly, gave her a fluffy sponge and some soap that smelled of jasmine, and left the room. The warm water felt soothing against her stiff joints. Her entire right side was still very sore from the shock she’d gotten, but it was starting to feel like a healing soreness. Waverly had to keep her burned hand dry, so washing herself took extra time. Waverly lost herself in the fragrance of the soap, pretending she was home, that her mother might knock on the door any second to nag, “Waverly! Hurry up!” She wanted to hide in the bathroom forever, but she could sense someone on the other side of the door, waiting. So she got out and dried herself with a cotton towel, then slipped into the pink dress that was hanging on a hook in the corner. It was a little girl’s dress, quite unlike the hemp trousers Waverly was used to wearing. It was comfortable, even pretty, but it felt like a costume. It must have been borrowed from a girl aboard the New Horizon, though it looked newly sewn. Waverly combed her heavy wet hair away from her forehead, took a few deep breaths, and opened the bathroom door.
    Anne Mather was waiting for her, sitting on the chair next to the hospital bed, writing