Barton and Nurse Harrington left; I’m not sure how much. I lie in bed watching the walls, wondering if I was ever going to get out of here. My mind was still racing with what happened. The overpowering urge that had forced me to go into the forest…the girl calling out to me…her spirit desperate with the need to be found… Dean had done his best to try and stop me, but the force calling out to me was too strong. And then when I found her, when my fingers closed around her skull, the vision had come to me of her death. I’d seen the same man Andrew had seen in his vision, the same man I’d seen in my dream. The moonlight had spilled down on the killer’s face, illuminating it enough so that I could just make out his features—especially inside the collar of his open cloak, where the dragon tattoo wound around his neck. Andrew hadn’t recognized the man, and neither had I. If he was on the staff or living as a patient in here, he was not someone I had come across. I wondered if there were patients being held in solitary rooms who never got out.
