Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 32

(Dilara's POV)

It's strange how I managed to stay quiet for this long.

How I kept everything locked up inside.

All the things I saw and heard and experienced.

But I was breaking.

I felt it. Every day, the pressure built.

I sat in the corner of the common room and watched Angel from across the room. She talked to Hande and laughed about something. I didn't hear the words, just the sound of her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. She didn't know.

I didn't think she did.

She didn't know what this place really was.

None of them did.

My fingers traced the edge of the book in my lap but I wasn't reading it. I was just thinking. My mind spun and replayed the same scenes over and over again. The treatments.

The things I saw Dr. Nixon do. The things she forced me to do.

At first it was helpful, but it graduated into borderline weird and just...off-putting.

I had stopped attending our "therapeutic" treatment sessions and even though she'd send multiple patients to call me, I avoided going. It's like ever since Dr. Joe came; she just became more intolerable. As if she wasn't doing stuff at her own volition.

My chest tightened and I felt the panic rise. But I shoved it back down and forced myself to breathe. I forced myself to stay calm.

I needed to talk to someone.

I needed to tell someone what was happening here.

My gaze locked onto Angel again and something in me snapped.

I stood up and the pressure of my secret pulled me toward her. My legs felt heavy with the burden I carried for too long.

"Angel," I said, and my voice was quieter than I meant it to be.

She looked up at me and her eyes were curious but warm. "Hey, Dilara. What's up?"

I hesitated and my heart pounded in my chest. What if she didn't believe me? What if she thought I was crazy? She was always the one questioning and interrogating me, and she was the most suspicious. Would she believe an ounce of what I had to say?

But I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"I need to talk to you," I blurted out and my voice shook. "It's about Dr. Nixon."

Angel's smile faded and she glanced at Hande who looked just as confused. "Okay, sure. Let's go somewhere private."

...

We slipped into the small study room at the back of the dorm. The walls were thin and the air felt heavy with the scent of cleaning products. Angel sat across from me and her eyes were wide with concern.

"Dilara, what's going on?" she asked gently.

I took a deep breath and my hands trembled in my lap.

"She's not what she seems," I started, and my words were barely above a whisper. "Dr. Nixon...her treatments aren't normal."

Angel leaned forward and her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen things," I said as my voice shook. "Things she's done to patients. Things she's done to me. At first, they were kinda edgy and kinda worked, but...but recently, she's gotten unhinged and so has the so-called treatments." I paused and swallowed the lump in my throat. "It's not just therapy. It's something else. Something darker."

hands clenched into fists. "What has she

closed my eyes and the memories flashed through my mind. The needles. The restraints. The

I whispered. "But it's not. She uses us and tests things on us. And I think there's more going on. I think she's

her face turned pale. "Why would they do that? What's

talk late at night behind closed

face for any sign that I was lying. But I wasn't.

determination. "We're going to figure this out, Dilara. We're going

but as she held my hand and squeezed it to reassure me,

...

(Angel's POV)

felt like a weight in my chest

couldn't stop thinking about

Dr.

And now, Hendrix.

here, something weird. I felt it in every corner of this place and in every forced smile from the staff

let this happen. I had to dig

the library. It was quiet and the only sound was the faint hum of the lights

my hands shook as I typed

at first, just basic medical records and generic

I found

of missing

but from others. Places where Dr.

in my chest as I read the names and the ages and the addresses. My hands trembled as I copied them down and

Name: Mary Ellen

- Age: 24

- Nationality: American

1035 Willow Lane,

- Status: Missing

- Name: Frederick Golding

- Age: 29

- Nationality: British

14 Kensington Street,

- Status: Missing

- Name: Ayana Patel

- Age: 22

- Nationality: Indian

Address: 47 Roshan

- Status: Missing

- Name: Javier Morales

- Age: 30

- Nationality: Spanish

Address: Calle de

- Status: Missing

- Name: Lena Feldstein

- Age: 25

- Nationality: German

Address: Mühlenstraße 3,

- Status: Missing

the files. Each name was a person, a life, taken by this

By him.

been doing this for years. He moved from one wellness center to another, covered his tracks, and left behind a trail of

treatment. It was about control. About something far more wicked than I ever

as my mind raced. Hendrix needed to know. I needed to

...

(Hendrix's POV)

felt like

muscle ached. My chest was tight. My head pounded with a relentless rhythm,