The hospital receptionist was the first person to not blink at Winter’s ragged appearance. She had seen far worse. Winter nodded at her as she passed, walking quickly, coat billowing behind her. She headed straight for River’s room.
Winter threw open the door with enough force to make Phoebe yelp in surprise. Phoebe spun around. “Winter?”
“Phoebe?” Winter crossed the room. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, I was just going to be in and out real quick. I didn’t want to disturb River, but there were some files left in here that I needed.” Phoebe held up the folder in her right hand. “Say, you didn’t see the Plague Saint on your way here, did you? He’s usually here by now.”
Oh. Right. Winter looked down. She was Winter Pierce, not the Plague Saint. “Uh, I—” Her hand slid into her pocket. Her fingers wrapped around the vial of plague cure. “I did see him, actually, but he was on his way to meet the mayor. He gave me this.” She held up the cure. “Said he made it last night and I had to get it to River right away. It’s an emergency.”
Phoebe stared at her blankly. “He gave it to…you? Not a nurse or doctor?”
Winter shrugged. “I must have been the first person he saw, and it’s for River anyway. I don’t see why it matters.”
“Well, hospital protocol, for starters.”
“Since when have you cared about following protocol?” Winter asked. “My brother’s going to die if I don’t get him this damn medicine!”
She immediately regretted raising her voice. Phoebe didn’t even look angry, she just looked…worried.
“I’m sorry,” Winter said, forcing some calm into her voice. “But he’s on the verge of death.” She walked to the IV stand and fiddled with the bag. Nothing she hadn’t done before. Just open the bottle, and—
“What are you doing?” Phoebe rushed to Winter’s side. “At least let me get a nurse—”
“Relax, I know what I’m doing.” Winter moved quickly, leaving Phoebe to watch with a stunned expression.
“How did you know how to do that?” Phoebe asked. She looked Winter up and down. “And are you okay? You look awful.”
“I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I had a croissant. And coffee.” Winter swung her bag around to her front to put the empty bottle back in.
Phoebe’s eyes widened. “Where did you get that bag?”
“Uh, it’s mine?”
“It looks exactly like the Plague Saint’s.” Phoebe folded her arms. “Seriously, what’s going on? Everyone I know is acting super weird. And by everyone, I mean you and my uncle and the Plague Saint. And apparently someone set a fire in our apartment building last night, on top of all that.”
“A fire? That’s crazy.” Winter zipped the bag up before Phoebe could see its contents. “I have to show you something.”
“What?”
“What part of that was unclear?” Winter headed for the door. Take Phoebe to the boat. Come back to check on River. Find the rest of the ingredients.
Phoebe jogged to catch up. “What do you have to show me?”
“You’ll see. I promise, you’re going to want to see this,” Winter told her. “It’s going to explain everything that’s been happening.”
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“Not really.”
They were nearly to the lobby. Phoebe looked around. “I can’t just leave! I’m in the middle of my shift—”
“You get a lunch break, don’t you?”
“It’s nine a.m.!”
It was already nine? “Breakfast break, then. Like I said, the Plague Saint’s going to be gone a while, anyway.”
Winter led Phoebe back the way she’d come. Phoebe’s worried demeanor worsened dramatically when they left the city and crossed the tree line.
“Winter…” she started when they reached the river.
“You said your uncle’s been acting weird, and I have answers.”
“Maybe weird wasn’t the right word,” Phoebe said. “He went to the city with his research and now he’s working with the mayor, which is great!”
No, it’s not. Winter stopped herself before she could say the words. She might be able to get more information first. “Did he tell you anything about what the mayor’s planning, specifically?”
“No, he hasn’t been home much the past few days. He gets back later than he used to. And he leaves early.”
They reached the boat faster than Winter expected. What a difference daylight made. For a moment she worried that Marcus might be at the boat, and she held up a hand to stop Phoebe from taking another step. She scanned the cabin windows for movement. Listened for sound. Nothing.
“Why is there a boat out here?” Phoebe asked.
“It’s your uncle’s.” Winter walked to the makeshift dock. “Come on.”
“What?”
“I said come on.”
Phoebe hesitated before following. “How did you even find this?”
Winter climbed the ladder. “Long story.” She grunted with the effort of pulling herself onto the deck. When Phoebe reached the top of the ladder, Winter held out a hand to help her up.
“I know you said you didn’t want to investigate anymore, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the weird deaths and the plague research,” Winter said. “I found a lot of stuff. I can’t explain it all right now, but I can show you this.”
They entered the cabin. Winter stood and watched with folded arms while Phoebe took it all in: the rats, the labeled vials of medicine and plague combinations, the petri dishes and microscopes and blood samples.
Once she was done looking around, Winter picked up one of the notebooks she’d left on the counter. “He used a really simple code. Just moved all the letters back one in the alphabet. It is pretty jarring at first glance, and a pain to translate, but I decoded all of these entries. See for yourself, its consistent.”
Phoebe’s brow furrowed as she took the notebook. Winter pulled the scrap pieces of paper she’d written the translations on from her bag and let Phoebe compare them. Minutes dragged by.
“How—” Phoebe looked up, eyes wide, confusion twisting her features. “How do you know he wrote this? That this is all his?”
Winter searched for an answer. She couldn’t explain to Phoebe that Marcus had been the Plague Saint, because that would force her to explain that he wasn’t anymore, and that she only knew that because she was the Saint now, and that was because she’d tried to kill him—
“I followed him,” Winter said. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I was at City Hall trying to get information on a new law I heard a rumor about, and he was there talking to the mayor. I overhead them saying something about white plague.”
Her explanation came off as frantic, but that was fine. She continued. “I was scared that might be what River has, so I followed him here and found the truth.” She nodded to the notebook. “White plague is real, and it’s because Marcus invented it.”
Phoebe closed the notebook and gingerly set it on the counter with shaking hands. Her eyes closed. “That—that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, it’s all in writing.” Winter gestured around the lab to the other notebooks scattered about, her proof undeniable. But her triumph faded when she saw the pain twisting Phoebe’s expression. Her shoulders sagged. “I—I’m sorry, Phoebe. I know he says he’s trying to help people, but—”
“I don’t get why he would do this.” Phoebe turned around. Her shoulders lifted as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would he want more people to die?”
Winter grimaced. She opened her mouth to offer up something, anything to make Phoebe feel better, but that was impossible.
Phoebe walked toward the rat cages and stopped in front of them, still not facing Winter, not even throwing a glance back. “There must be some sort of misunderstanding.”
“Phoebe, his journal entries were pretty clear.” Winter’s fists clenched at her sides. “I’m sorry, but he was poisoning people to test the plague.”
“Ow!” Phoebe yelped and yanked her hand back.
“What happened?” Winter asked.
Phoebe shook out her hand and turned around. “It’s nothing. I have to get out of here. I have to talk to him.”
“He’s just going to keep lying to you!” Winter exclaimed.
Phoebe shook her head and stormed past her. Winter reached out and grabbed her arm. “Phoebe, please, I’m trying to help you!”
“Winter, this is a lot, okay?” As Phoebe pulled her arm away, Winter noticed a drop of blood on her finger. Before she could press the matter further, Phoebe was out on the deck, grabbing the ladder.
Winter followed her to the shore. Phoebe finally stopped at the tree line, letting Winter catch up.
“Some of those vials were labeled as cures or medicine for the other plagues,” Phoebe said.
Winter nodded. “I think he’s had those for a while now.” She hadn’t even known there were true cures until she’d found the boat. How many more secrets was Marcus hiding?
“He told me he hadn’t been able to make anything stronger than the hospital drugs. Red-X and Blue-X and—” Phoebe cut off and squeezed her eyes shut.
“The notebook disagrees.”
Phoebe shook her head. “I—there has to be a reasonable explanation.” It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Winter.
Winter wanted to refute the statement, but a distant sound stopped her. Branches snapped. A voice rang out. Phoebe opened her mouth, and Winter held up a hand to silence her. “Stay here,” Winter whispered.
Winter walked to a tree that had branches hanging low enough for her to reach. She awkwardly pulled herself up and rose to as close to a standing position as she could manage. She peered around the trunk and surveyed the direction the sound had come from.
There was movement. People. City guards. What the hell were they doing out here? Winter didn’t want to wait for them to get close enough to find out. She slid out of the tree.
“We’re going to run,” she hissed to Phoebe. “I’m not getting arrested again.”
“Again?”
Oops. Whatever. Winter sprinted down the shoreline away from the approaching guards, watching the ground in front of her for tripping hazards. She glanced back occasionally to make sure Phoebe was following.
Once Winter felt it was safe, she took a sharp left and raced through the trees toward the city. Phoebe was lagging, so Winter slowed her pace, despite every part of her itching to move at full speed. As soon as she stopped, though, a wave of dizziness hit her. Oh, God. She stumbled to a nearby tree and leaned against it.
“Are you okay?” Phoebe asked.
“I’m fine.” Winter glanced to her right. They were almost back to the streets, and she couldn’t hear the guards anymore. She took a few more seconds to catch her breath before gesturing for Phoebe to follow. They walked the rest of the way.
Winter relaxed when the streets around them filled with people going about their day. She undoubtedly still looked as ragged as she had after waking up—maybe even more—but there were too many people around now for her to stick out as badly.
“Winter, I—I have to get back to work,” Phoebe stammered.
Winter stopped. “What about everything I just showed you?”
“I’ll stay up to talk to my uncle tonight. Get some rest, okay?” Phoebe started toward the hospital.
“Phoebe, wait!” Winter reached for her, but she was too slow. “He’s just going to lie to you more!” She jogged after Phoebe, but quickly fell behind.
Winter doubled over and pressed her hands against her legs, struggling for air. The world spun around her.
Phoebe was right. She needed rest. But she also needed to keep Marcus from lying to Phoebe, and check on River, and go to work as the Plague Saint, and…
Winter wandered to a nearby bench and sat down. Just a quick break. Then she could go after Phoebe. Phoebe. Was she really going to ignore all of the evidence Winter had shown her? It was as plain as could be.
If someone told Winter that a person she loved and trusted—River, maybe—was doing something horrible like this, would she be able to believe them? Even with proof?
Her fists clenched in her lap. She wanted to believe she would never deny hard evidence. Even if it hurt. But maybe she was wrong.
Or, maybe, she and Phoebe were just too different.