Cole led Hazel to her room.

Skeletal in a dark ensemble with her nearly-bald head and skinny limbs exposed, he was disgusted to find himself a little fearful. She was a girl pared down, nothing but hard edges and sharp corners, the aura of danger enhanced by her implacably foul mood. He didn’t ask her about Fin.

All three patients who had spent the night in the ward had managed to get some sleep. Both Maya and Jasmine had somehow managed to rip their stitches at some point, but Orchid had fared so much better it made up for the minor inconveniences. She had regained feeling in her entire body and surprised him by bouncing over and onto (as if her whole body were carried by her bobbing head now) Maya’s cot, landing on a belly flop - while he was doing up the stitches on Maya’s wrist.

Maya had shrieked, but was unable to hide her good humor.

Orchid’s coloration was still abnormal and the indent going around her neck frequently spurted black fluid like a loose hydrant, but she was better. Infinitely better. Not dead, least. Oh, she had died, but now she was back.

Cole’s professional conscience told him that the trio weren’t ready for added stress. From what he’d heard, Hazel was the ringleader, the one who had most vehemently insisted on the suicide stunts. Her reintroduction might poison the peace which had just barely had time to settle.

His more daring self, who had been prevailing as of late, tossed Hazel into the cauldron with barely-concealed glee.

Hazel surveyed her lodgings with a critical eye.

“Been a while, bitches.”

All three patients (on their phones, he noticed) froze like she’d announced their executioner was here.

It was Orchid who unfroze and bounded up first, her limbs still not entirely in control - though Cole had the suspicion she exaggerated their extreme flopping motions. “I told you. I told everyone she’d call back.” Looming at her full height, she laid a clammy gray hand over Hazel’s head, which rolled down onto her shoulder.

“But you hardly called at all! You only really talked to Fin. What happened to him?” Maya cried. She couldn’t seem to decide if she wanted to peel out of her seat or not.

“Fin’s… he’s fine. He’s just more opportunistic than I thought,” Hazel muttered through grit teeth. “Actually, more of a wimp. He ran off somewhere. But he’s used to hiding. He’ll be fine - and he’ll be back.”

Jasmine finally scrambled up. Her eyes were wet with tears.

When Cole had announced Hazel planned to join them, Jasmine had been the one most stricken by the news - she’d set herself adrift, lost in her own thoughts, ever since.

Jasmine threw her arms around Hazel and began wailing. Orchid was blown back. Cole retreated to the hallway.

“You cut your hair! You look so different! I thought the guide got you!” Jasmine bawled through tears and a stuffed nose. “That he took your hands and feet and head had you trapped somewhere you couldn’t get out–”

“That’s so gross.” Hazel gave her a shove, but not hard enough to dislodge her. Jasmine had to do that herself. “And I met the guide. He’s fine.”

“You met him? And he just let you go? Did he do something to Fin?”

“No need to keep blabbering on about Fin,” Hazel said, again in a lower voice.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking – why didn’t you call or anything?”

Hazel looked at them all, deadpan. “I guess I wanted a taste of how you guys would act if I was gone. Since you didn’t really feel it, the time it was supposed to be real.”

Like he’d been hit with a bat, Cole was stunned into silence. But all three of the girls began clamoring about how upset they’d been, how lost and worried and incomplete; all said so effusively Cole couldn’t bring himself to intrude. The tears were flowing, and so was Orchid’s neck wound.

“You must have come up with the next step, if you decided to turn up,” Maya said, still the most objective of the group.

Hazel motioned them close and muttered something that Orchid seemed to find hilarious.

Jasmine’s hair bristled up. “The investigator who was here got suspended by his boss. I’ve been testing - I don’t think he’ll see the message.”

“He only follows four people, not even his assistant. I don’t think he’s very active,” Maya added.

“Then he and his partner can keep an eye out for a regular invite, like everyone else,” Hazel said.

“The guy with him is his assistant,” Orchid corrected her, sententiously.

“Let’s give him a clue. He wanted a picture for posterity, anyway.” Hazel slid out her phone and opened the camera.

“I think the picture’s to make sure you didn’t just run back into hiding,” Jasmine said. Playing with fire.

Hazel shot her a dirty look that would have taken Cole’s knees out from under him. Jasmine just shrugged it off. Hazel softened the look just barely, and shifted it to Cole. “You in?”

“You can’t leave him out,” Orchid said. “You’d just be talking to a bunch of body parts dumped on the floor if he hadn’t volunteered to put us back together.”

Back together. That’s right, the whole collective was here. But wait, Cole thought. That wasn’t true. It was so easy to forget the odd man out; the aesthetic black sheep. The reason for all the poisoning and chopping and hanging.

“Even Fin took a liking to him right off the bat. They talked for a-a-ages last night.”

So Orchid hadn’t been asleep the whole time.

With a hint of envy, Hazel squinted at Orchid, then at Cole again. “Fin was probably just happy to meet someone his own age.” (Cole smiled. Like they were children who’d met in kindergarten. Well, here he was peeking around the corner like a toddler afraid of the class.) “And it’s someone who wasn’t trying to kill him or make him testify to something that would kill him.”

Cole laughed.

“So,” Hazel said, “you can speak for yourself. In?”

“I’m in. Want me to take the picture?”

She held the phone to her chest. “No, idiot. Get behind me. If you’re in, you’re going to be in it.”