1 Frank, the focus of my wife’s obsessive ambition, needed a guinea pig for his latest pharmaceutical study. So Eleanor, my wife, had me committed to a psychiatric facility. Right after I’d had major surgery. They subjected me to electroconvulsive therapy until I was a drooling, twitching wreck on the gurney. Through it all, she just covered Frank’s eyes, her voice dripping with disgust. “It’s filthy. Don’t look.” Frank’s experiment earned him a prestigious nomination. To celebrate, Eleanor set off a fireworks display that lit up the entire city. And on that brilliantly lit, bitterly cold winter night, my right leg, ravaged by necrosis from the excessive electrical shocks, was amputated. To cover his tracks, Frank arranged for me to be fitted with a prosthesis and threatened me, warning me never to tell Eleanor the truth. He told her my leg had just been “injured” during the experiment. Numbly, I packed my own severed right leg into a cryogenic container. In seven days, at Frank’s award ceremony, it would be delivered to Eleanor as a gift. … My eyes were red as I begged Alex, one of the orderlies, to do this for me. Since I’d been admitted, Alex was the only person who had shown me any kindness. He’d told me he had a brother who looked a lot like me. But he was no match for Frank’s influence; he couldn’t get me out of here. Seeing me clutch my prosthetic leg, my sobs tearing through my chest, he hesitated, then finally agreed. He had just taken the cryogenic box and turned to leave when he ran straight into Eleanor. The faint, coppery smell from the container made her wrinkle her nose. She watched the orderly disappear down the hall before lowering her hand. But it seemed nothing could dampen her spirits today. She radiated the triumph of a conquering hero. “Frank’s experiment was a resounding success,” she said, her voice bright, almost speaking to herself. “He’s finally achieved his dream.” She’d been staring out the window at the dazzling night sky ever since she walked in, not sparing me a single glance. It was only when she noticed my prolonged silence that her cool gaze finally swept over me. Her brow furrowed. “Leo, this is just a small favor Frank asked of you. You were just recovering at home with nothing to do anyway. Here, you can make some new friends and help him out immensely. There’s no need to look so miserable.” Let me think. The old woman who snuck into my room to harass me. The old man who tried to strangle me, accusing me of stealing his money. The man who kicked me to the ground, screaming that I’d stolen his woman. These were the “friends” Eleanor was talking about. Frank had been force-feeding me handfuls of experimental drugs, followed by round after round of electric shocks, which had caused the tissue in my right leg to die. The doctor who treated me said if I had gotten to a hospital sooner, amputation wouldn’t have been necessary. But I didn’t even have my freedom. How could I dare to hope for proper medical care? Seeing my red-rimmed eyes and my refusal to look at her, Eleanor stepped closer, ready to question me. “Leo—” She only got out half my name before her attention was completely captured by her phone lighting up. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the blissful expression on her face. In the twenty-odd minutes Eleanor spent in my room, she never once noticed that my right leg wasn’t real. Exhausted from the surgery, I was about to drift off to sleep when one of Frank’s lab assistants brought me my daily dose of pills. The thought of my empty trouser leg, the hollowness where my limb used to be, sent a surge of rage through me. I swept the pills onto the floor. The woman by the window flinched, then strode to my bedside. Without hesitation, she picked the tablets from the dusty floor and held them to my lips. Her voice was merciless. “This is part of Frank’s experiment. If you don’t take them, how is he supposed to write his report?” Tears streamed down my face as I turned my head away, but she clamped her fingers around my jaw, forcing my mouth open and shoving the bitter pills down my throat. Eleanor was about to say more, but she glanced at her vibrating phone, then turned and rushed out of the room, leaving her coat behind. I knew exactly why she was in such a hurry. I opened my social media feed. The first thing I saw was a picture of Frank with tissues stuffed up his nose, looking goofy and adorable. His caption read: Watched fireworks all night and came back with a cold. P.S. Taking an extra cold pill won't kill you, right? The comment section was filled with Eleanor’s frantic replies. You have a cold? Why didn't you say anything? You silly goose. We won't know if you're okay until you get checked out. I’m on my way. Eleanor didn’t come back that night. After midnight, I silently wished myself a happy birthday. I remember before all this, before the asylum, Eleanor had taken me for a check-up. The doctor had said my recovery from the stomach cancer surgery was going remarkably well. She had looked so thrilled. “The day you’re fully recovered is your birthday,” she’d said. “We have to celebrate properly.” But times had changed. Now, she was setting off city-wide fireworks for Frank, all to celebrate a nomination he hadn’t even won yet. The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, Alex brought me a tiny, palm-sized cupcake. “I remember you said today was your birthday, but… your leg…” He trailed off, but he still lit the single candle for me. These inhuman days had been made bearable only by his kindness. I closed my eyes and made a wish. Just as I was about to blow out the candle, a figure appeared in the doorway. Eleanor took in the scene, her brow twitching as if she’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right. It’s your birthday.” She fumbled in her coat pockets, flustered, searching for something she could pass off as a gift. But what she pulled out was a half-used box of condoms. Mortified, she shoved it back into her pocket. “That must be… someone’s idea of a joke,” she stammered. “I’ll get you a proper gift later.” I blew out the candle with a sharp puff of air. “Don’t bother.” My blunt refusal made her face darken instantly. She shoved her hands in her pockets, her patience gone. “Are you really going to be like this over a gift?” “When your father was critically ill, I was the one who paid for his treatment. And now you’re giving me attitude over some stupid birthday? Don’t you think you’re being a little unreasonable?” I just bit my lip, listening quietly. She was right. She had saved my family. I owed her a debt I could probably never repay. Even Alex, sitting beside me, couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and bumped Eleanor’s shoulder on his way out. The woman stumbled, her expression turning even uglier. She shot me a reproachful look and was about to leave when she ran into Frank, who was just arriving in his lab coat. Peeking out from under the collar of his white coat was the faint trace of a hickey. Eleanor’s anger seemed to evaporate. She rushed to his side, her voice softening. “I told you to rest at home. Why did you come here?” Frank let out a theatrical sneeze. “You kept me warm with your body last night,” he said, then added with a wave of his hand, “I’m much better now.” He suddenly remembered I was in the room and quickly composed himself, flashing me a smile. “I came today because we have an important experiment to run. I’ll need your cooperation, Leo.” A tremor of fear went through me. I looked at Eleanor, pleading with my eyes, shaking my head, begging her not to agree. But she just gave Frank a magnanimous smile. “Of course. He’s not doing anything else anyway.” In that moment, the guillotine that had been hanging over my head finally fell. Frank’s lips curved into a smile. He looked at me and added, “This one might hurt a little more, but you just have to bear it. You’ve cooperated so many times before, Leo. I’m sure you’ll do great.” A dark premonition crept over me. Eleanor had poured a fortune into funding Frank’s lab, letting him test his concoctions on living human beings, even using barbaric electroshock therapies. Every time something went wrong, Eleanor was there to clean up the mess. She seemed to enjoy it. But I never, ever thought she would let Frank torture me like this. I didn't fight back, because I owed her so much. But after this experiment, surely, my debt would be paid in full. Frank clapped his hands twice. A team of technicians filed into the room carrying various instruments. Once all the equipment was set up, Frank took Eleanor’s arm and whispered, “Eleanor, I’m a little worried. What if this experiment fails?” A flicker of emotion crossed her face. She squeezed his hand tenderly. “It won’t. Let’s step outside. We can have them bring us the data when they’re done.” Inside the room. I lay on the cold gurney, staring blankly at the ceiling as they strapped down my arms and legs. The lights blurred. My consciousness began to fade. As they increased the voltage, my body grew numb, but my mind remained sporadically, terrifyingly clear. Through the haze, I heard panicked voices, the clatter of metal. “Shit, what are you doing? You can’t even control the voltage!” Then came the violent, full-body convulsions. I vaguely heard someone shout: “Get him to the emergency room, now! We might still have time!” I didn’t even struggle. It felt like I’d been bludgeoned into unconsciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a new, unfamiliar room. Before I could speak, a man’s voice cut through the silence. “You really worked hard for this, Leo. Here’s a little something for your trouble.” Frank flashed me a mocking grin, pulled a single bill from his wallet, and placed it on my pillow. He turned just as Eleanor walked in. His sneer vanished, replaced by a look of contrition. He lowered his head. “It’s all my fault. I was being stupid, and I made Leo pass out. I’ve already apologized to him.” Eleanor glanced at me, then caressed Frank’s face with a doting expression. “It wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.” Then she paused, as if remembering something. She walked over to my bed. “The doctor said there was a problem with your leg. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” I remained silent. She had been too busy watching fireworks with Frank. I had sent her countless messages. She hadn't replied to a single one. Alex, who was standing beside me, was about to speak, but Frank shot him a threatening glare, stopping him cold. Then he turned to Eleanor. “It was my fault. There was an unexpected complication with the experiment, and I got so busy dealing with it that I forgot to tell you about Leo’s leg injury.” “How could it be your fault?” she cooed. “He’s fine now, so it doesn’t matter.” I, the person in question, hadn’t said a word, but Eleanor had already forgiven them on my behalf. To make sure Alex didn't say anything else, Frank steered him out of the room. Eleanor turned back to me, a hint of guilt in her eyes. “You’ve been cooped up for so long. I’ll take you out to a nice restaurant tonight. We’ll celebrate properly.” Without waiting for my answer, she dragged me to a boutique and bought me a suit. As I was changing, she saw the map of blue and purple bruises covering my back. The hand holding out the clothes paused for a fraction of a second. But in the end, she said nothing. She made an excuse and went outside to wait. Ha. She saw the state I was in, and she felt guilty? What a joke. Wasn’t this all her doing? At the restaurant, Eleanor’s eyes never left her phone. At one point, she excused herself to the restroom and was gone for over twenty minutes. When she came back, she finally remembered to ask the waiter for a menu. But she was completely distracted, randomly pointing at a line on the page. The waiter was baffled. She was pointing at the restaurant’s address. With a sigh, I took the menu and ordered for both of us. A little while later, just as the food arrived, Eleanor abruptly stood up and grabbed her coat. “Frank is being picked on at a party. I have to go, now.” She started to leave, then paused, her voice cold. “You should come too. It’ll be hard to get a cab at this hour.” In the car, Eleanor was completely absorbed in her phone, terrified of missing a message. We rushed to the location Frank had sent. The private room was anything but hostile; it was buzzing with laughter and music. The moment Frank saw me, the smile on his face vanished, but he quickly composed himself and looked down with a guilty expression. “I didn’t know you were with Eleanor, Leo. I only called her because I lost a game of truth or dare.” Eleanor, still catching her breath from rushing in, showed no sign of annoyance. “It’s not a big deal. We were just having dinner.” As she spoke, all eyes in the room turned to me. I dug my nails into my palms, wanting this farce to end. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” I turned to leave, but Frank called out. “Leo, my experiment isn’t finished yet. You can’t go home. You need to stay at the hospital a while longer.” A mocking voice piped up from the crowd. “So he’s Frank’s little lab rat. No wonder he’s covered in scars.” Someone else chimed in. “Scars are one thing, but a cripple in a suit that expensive? What a waste. It looks awful.” I kept my back to them, digging my thumbnail into the soft flesh of my hand, fighting down the bitter taste in my throat. Eleanor acted as if she hadn't heard a thing. She just backed Frank up. “Frank’s right. You can’t give up now. You should go back to the hospital.” I clenched my jaw and endured it. But before I could even leave the room, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Mr. Evans? Your father’s condition has taken a turn for the worse. If you can, you should come and see him one last time.” My world exploded. I tried to run, but two burly men who looked like bodyguards blocked my way. I struggled, but it was useless. I looked back at Eleanor, my eyes burning with desperation. Her face was a mask of displeasure. “Frank has worked so hard to get to this point. Do you really have to cause trouble at the last minute?” When I didn’t answer, she became resolute. “You are going back to the psychiatric facility tonight.” I couldn’t hold back any longer. “My father is dying!” I pleaded. “I have to see him!” For a moment, she seemed to soften, but then Frank tugged on her sleeve with a wounded expression. Her tone immediately hardened again. “There’s plenty of money in your father’s hospital account. What good would you do there?” she snapped. “Frank has been nominated. The awards ceremony is in a few days. Can’t you just be happy for him for once?” My throat closed up. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Her face was a canvas of impatience. She gave a slight nod. The bodyguards at the door seized me, dragged me outside, and unceremoniously threw me into the van that had been sent from the asylum. It was a long drive. I was locked back in that cold, dark room. It was there that I received the call from the hospital, the one that confirmed the worst. In that instant, my mind fractured. I was plunged into an abyss of ice. For the next few days, I was a walking corpse. I let Frank do whatever he wanted, no longer resisting. On the final day, Eleanor accompanied Frank to the awards ceremony, bathed in the flash of cameras. And I was finally free. I took the plane ticket Alex had bought for me, the heavy urn containing my father’s ashes, and my scarred, broken body, and I flew back to my hometown. As soon as I landed, my phone screen lit up with a long list of missed calls. All from Eleanor. After a moment’s thought, I sent a single text. Eleanor, I want a divorce. Then I blocked her number and disappeared into the bustling crowd. Back in my old, rundown neighborhood, I let out a long breath. I was home. I was halfway through unpacking when my phone rang. It was Alex. “The city’s news channels are going crazy…”
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