A Vault of Sins by Sarah Harian Page A

three minutes ago, her vitals are fine so far, and she’ll probably be able to make it down the stairs in about thirty minutes.”
    After Casey leaves, my brain finally kicks into gear, thoughts unraveling like a loose thread was tugged somewhere in my head. I remember passing out in the truck and the few minutes before that. The woman coming to my door.
    I return to the window, my eyes stinging with tears. The forest is thick and endless, just like inside the Compass Room. I can’t get away from the woods.
    “Where the hell am I?” Overwhelmed with uneasiness, I try to squirm out of the mountains of plush white covers surrounding me. I sit up and immediately understand why I’m being given a half-hour to wake up.
    “Ohh ohh, don’t do that!” Piper’s hands are like fluttery insects as she waves them in front of me. “The anesthetics won’t fully wear off for another twenty-four hours.”
    I relax against the fluffy pillows. “How long have I been out?”
    “Mmmm . . .” She checks her tablet on the nightstand. “Approximately forty-nine and a quarter hours.”
    “Jesus.” I press my hand to my forehead. “That was some swig.”
    “It’ll getcha, alright.” She straps a band around my arm to check my blood pressure. “Looks like you’re doing a-okay though. Hmm . . . a little high. You stressed out at all?” She elbows me in the shoulder like she’s trying to be funny. I wipe the drool from my chin and shut my eyes, ignoring her.
    Piper, my overseer, doesn’t let me budge for another hour, so I use the time to ask her questions. We’re in Northern Canada, about two hundred miles away from the nearest town. The thought makes me want to puke.
    I’m so sick of nature.
    She confirms my suspicion that she, and everyone else here, are hackers from Reprise. She’s a med and psych student, recruited by the hacktivists a year ago. “This is one of our many bases!” she tells me excitedly. She’s excited about everything.
    “A base in the middle of the Canadian wilderness? In the middle of a place that looks exactly like the Compass Room?”
    “Sorry about that. Unintentional, I assure you.”
    I think about Mom and how she’s taking my disappearance—if she’s freaking out. She’ll be heckled by authorities if she hasn’t already. I’m lucky I left her when I did; she’ll be able to be completely honest with the police. She hasn’t seen me in two months and won’t have to lie for me. I wonder if I’ll be able to send her a message while I’m up here to let her know I’m okay, but I don’t think that’s likely, since I wasn’t even allowed to take my phone.
    Finally, Piper lets me stand.
    It’s a slow process—first, the removal of the down comforter. I shift to the edge of the bed. Piper’s hovering like I’m a nine-month-old taking my first steps.
    I lift myself up and fall flat on my face.
    I try again and again, my legs bending like jelly with every attempt. It’s the first time I notice what I’m wearing because I’m floundering in it—an extra-large white t-shirt and black leggings. Someone changed me.
    Piper notices that I’m studying my clothes. “Don’t worry. It was just me who dressed you.”
    I scoff, attempting to heave myself up again. “It doesn’t matter. The whole world has seen me naked.” My body crumples. “Alright, Piper, I give up.”
    “She knows my name!” Piper shouts to no one. “I have to let you know, Evalyn, I am such a massive fan of yours.”
    I flail on the floor until I’m facing her. “You know, being a fan of a murderer is enough of a warrant for a psych evaluation.”
    She scoffs. “I’ll have you know, psychologists usually are fans of murderers. We’re fascinated by them.”
    “You one of those weirdos who writes fan-fiction?”
    “No! No, goodness no. But I read it. Of course I read it. I had to, you know. Part of my job.” I watch her upside-down as she studies me with a frown, twirling the end of her powder blue