Read Online The Brothers by Katie French - Free Book Online Page B

back her arm. Her face is twisted with rage. She slams Micha’s head down onto the tabletop with an awful thunk . “She’s nine months pregnant!” I yell. “Please, Sabrina!”
    Someone pulls me back. I stumble a few steps before getting my footing. The orderly who pulled me away grabs Sabrina’s arm and drags her off Micha. She falls over the bench seat, and lands bottom first on the tile. A yelp barks out of her mouth. The orderly jabs his arm forward. Is he going to punch her?
    A zap crackles through the air. Sabrina’s body stiffens, convulses. Her jaws snap with awful clacking sounds. Her muscles tighten and retract. She jerks like a fish on a line. Her eyes roll up behind her fluttering eyelids.
    He’s shocked her. It’s too awful to watch.
    And then it’s over. The orderly stands up, panting. He looks at Sabrina, prone on the floor. Then he looks at me.
    “Are we done here?” he asks me as if I’m in charge.
    I nod. “Yes.” Sabrina moans from the floor. “Can I take my friend back to our room?”
    He glances between Sabrina and Micha, blood trickling down her forehead. It’s just a scratch, but he furrows his eyebrows. “No. She’ll have to go up for review.”
    My heart sinks. If they find this transgression serious enough, Sabrina will get put out . She’s only had one live birth. Lord knows how the baby she carries now will survive being shocked.
    “She won’t cause any more trouble. I’ll make sure she—”
    “My baby,” Micha cries, holding her stomach, hunched over like she’s in labor. “There’s something wrong!”
    Anger floods the orderly’s face. He waves some nannies over to help Micha, grabs Sabrina under her arms, and drags her away.
    I stand, wringing my hands. They can’t take her. They can’t.
    An orderly steps between Sabrina and me. He’s tall and stern-faced. Now, I can’t see her anymore. “To your room,” he orders, pointing. “And stay away from these girls.” He nods toward Breanne and Micha, who are being tended to by a flock of nannies.
    I look at these girls, so smug.
    I stomp out of the cafeteria and down the hall. It isn’t the first time I’ve wished for boots with heavy-heeled soles. Stomping in slippers feels useless, like punching a pillow.
    The halls are quiet when I get to D. I’m hungry, but the empty feeling fits my mood. And the quiet of the hall is welcoming. My nerves are shot and it isn’t even ten am.
    I detour into the bathroom, splash water on my face, and rub off the coffee splatter as best I can. My gown is stained in a few spots, but nothing like Sabrina’s. She’ll need a whole new gown. It’ll probably be weeks before one will be handed down.
    When I lift up from the sink, my reflection stares at me. What does Dr. Houghtson see in me? The only person who ever thought I was worth something was Nanny Bell, and it wasn’t for my face.
    My fingers grip the cool metal sink frame and stare. My mother—her name was Veronica—died from pre-eclampsia when I was two. I wish I had a picture. Is the curve of my eyes the same? My complexion? Sometimes it feels like I have no parents, that I was built from the same concrete and tile as the hospital itself. The hospital is my parent. A cruel, uncaring one.
    I pat my face dry with a towel and plod to my room. There will be nothing to do there, but wait until Sabrina returns. If she returns.
    When I enter my room, the hairs on my arms stand up. Something’s not right. I don’t know how, but I can feel it. I whirl around and the door creaks.
    Dr. Houghtson clicks the door shut and seals us in together. When I see him, fear courses up my bones. I shuffle back toward my bed, but realize that’s the last place I want to be. I take a few steps back until I bump into the window.
    His smile, a greedy sort of happiness, sinks. “Why are you always backing away from me?” he asks, taking a step forward. “You know I would never hurt you.”
    It isn’t a question, and I don’t answer. I palm