Doctor Bradley smiled at Ryan and shrugged.

The chance was gone. She was going to open up to him, wasn't she? Spill the beans? And that Pedra had to spoil it! For fuck's sake!

The offender handed her tablet to Bradley, who ignored the offering. She was red faced and panting.

"D..." Gulp down air. "D... Doc..."

"Peddy, unless you want that stutter to be permanent, I suggest you get yourself under control. Sort yourself out, girl!"

Pedra nodded with a frantic jiggle of her head. She stood up straight, as if to attention, and sucked in a hefty dollop of air. As she exhaled in a controlled manner, she brought her hands down in front of her.

And focus.

"S..." Another, smaller gasp, followed by a shudder to dispel her unprofessionalism. "Sorry, Doc. You need to see this."

"Excuse me, Missy, but who are you to tell me what I should see?" Bradley berated her assistant.

Ryan felt he would have told her to stick her job up her arse sideways if he'd been treated like that, and couldn't understand why Pedra took it. Maybe it paid well, and she received a bonus for every insult.

"Apologies, Doc," said Pedra, blushing. "I would never dare."

"So, what are you telling me? Can't you see I'm busy with this?"

Bradley indicated Ryan, emphasising the 'this.' She thought highly of him, then.

"He told me to show you."

Ryan saw the doctor's face suddenly tense. Her jaw set and her eyes seemed to pale, and he wondered if Medusa has slithered in. She cleared her throat.

"Show me."

Pedra was handing the tablet over again, but Bradley snatched it off her.

So, Dr Fiona Bradley wasn't the top dog? Even she answered to someone, and she was either afraid of or hated him. Or both. There was something more, too. What, Ryan couldn't tell. Another emotion had shadowed her face before it turned to stone.

Interesting.

Her finger swiped across the screen a couple of times, then he saw her eyes move across the screen, reading something. She swiped again, back this time, and double tapped. After a few seconds, her arm fell to her side and she let go of the gadget. It was a casual, deliberate drop, rather than an accidental release. Pedra's hand shot out to catch it before it hit the floor. She glared at the doctor, who had stepped towards Ryan.

"Wipe that look off your face, Peddy dearest, or I will."

Pedra blinked and straightened. She licked, then bit at the bottom lip, reprimanded unexpectedly by someone who wasn't even looking at her.

"Who is she, Ryan?" Bradley asked.

"What? Who?"

He realised who she meant as he was asking. He continued his sentence anyway. It was a double-edged response. Who was Bradley talking about? Who was she at all?

"The girl you were telling Jarvis about. Who is she?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

It was a mistake, he knew. Don't piss the woman off. Too late. The slap echoed in the room and inside his head. It hurt like a fucker, too.

"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that," she said.

He thought about pleading ignorance again, just to wind the bitch up. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that hand again, nor did he wish to hear the quiet snigger from the twins beside him.

"I don't know."

He drew his head back as her hand was raised a second time, hard enough to slam it against the wall behind him. He swore and blinked away the pain. Bradley lowered her hand, its mission carried out by the building itself on her behalf.

"I really don't," he said, his voice strained.

"Then why would you mention her?"

"She... I..."

What did he say? The girl was an impossibility, yet she was real. They must know her. Oh, was she Bradley's daughter?

He started again.

"I don't know who she is. It's weird. She's weird."

"In what way?"

"I don't know. She came out of nowhere. Talking to me in that forever fucking darkness. She was just... weird!"

"Go on," Bradley folded her arms, obviously feigning patience.

"She kept telling me it's not safe. I broke out to try and find her."

"And to find a way out, of course."

"No! Well... well, yes. But it was her. She went from just speaking to me to screaming at me. Then she was everywhere!" He looked away from her, staring instead at the floor. "I must have just been dreaming."

"Well, you must have been, mustn't you?" asked Bradley. "A random girl is wandering between your little houses, chatting away when you know that's not allowed. Then she goes from just talking to screaming? And you think we wouldn't be aware? You think we wouldn't do anything about it?"

Ryan nodded. Of course they would. Muppet.

"So, what was her name again?"

"Clara. Her name was Clara."

"Do you know any Claras then? Does she remind you of anyone?"

"Well, no. I mean, I don't know."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"Because you stole my fucking memories!"

He strained forward, letting the chest band take his weight, yelling at her. Jarvis and Kravitz appeared and pushed him back by his shoulders.

"Let him go, it's fine. I shouldn't have goaded him like that."

The twins moved and Bradley took their place. She was close enough for him to smell her perfume and feel her breath.

"I apologise, Ryan." Her voice was soothing, and the apology sounded sincere. "My bad. I like to play, and I get carried away. Ask Peddy, here. Except don't. You don't speak to her. Not ever. But forget all that. I just want to help you. In doing so, you can help us, too."

"How? I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"I know, and I'm sorry. It's necessary, I'm afraid."

Ryan sighed. She wasn't going to tell him anything.

"Look," she said. "How about we start again, eh? Draw a line and move on with a fresh start. How does that sound?"

"I'd like that," he said. What other choice did he have? Until an opening presented itself again, he'd have to play along. Until some information was revealed, he'd have to be the dutiful prisoner. Keep calm and carry on like a good boy.

"Good," Bradley said, beaming. "Excellent, in fact. Then, that's what we're going to do."

"Thank you."

"No, Ryan, dear. Thank you." She clapped her hands excitedly. "Do you know how we do that here?"

"No, how?"

"Pick a number between one and ten."

Huh?

"Sorry?"

"Pick a number between one and ten. It's that simple."

A number was in his head instantly, as was a terrible image he'd forgotten about.

"Six," he said.

"Oh, perfect." Bradley raised her hand. In it, she held a surgeon's scalpel. "Clean up on aisle six!"

Ryan saw the blade, but didn't know how to respond. It was too unexpected. Too surreal. Then it didn't matter.

As casually as she had dropped the tablet, she drew the knife across his throat.

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