The Vision by Jen Nadol

promised Petra.
    â€œNo, I know. I’m sorry,” I said again, feeling truly ashamed. What was I thinking? I was going to scare Demetria and get myself banned from visiting.
    â€œKeep your voice down or you’ll have to leave.” She went back to her table, shooting me one more dirty look. She scribbled something and I hoped it was only an answer to the crossword puzzle she’d been working on.
    Demetria seemed not to have noticed, back to staring at the wall.
    I leaned closer. “I think you can hear me, Demetria.” I kept my voice low and soft, trying to coax her out. “And if you understand me, if you know what I’m talking about, I can kind of see why you …” I glanced at her wrapped wrists. “Why you’re here. It can drive you …” No, don’t say crazy. “Um, well, it can make things hard. Really hard.”
    She didn’t look at me, but she blinked. A sign?
    â€œI need your help,” I told her. “If you know anything about it … please … I’m kind of on my own here.”
    She didn’t move and her eyes were still far away. In my heart I knew we were done. I glanced back at the nurse, wondering if it’d be okay to touch Demetria, just to get her attention, try one more time to make some kind of connection. That’s when I saw him. Zander Dasios. Standing by the window. I was sure of it this time.
    Immediately, he stepped out of view.
    I looked at Demetria—still out to lunch—then walked quickly to the doorway.
    â€œAll done?” the nurse asked.
    I shook my head. “Just need the ladies’ room.”
    I opened the door, my heart pounding at the thought of talking to Zander, but the hallway was empty.
    I looked left and right, trotted to one end, then the other. Deserted. I stopped at the nurses’ station.
    â€œThere was a guy here a minute ago. I saw him looking through the window in the lounge. Did he come back this way?”
    The lady at the desk looked up from a stack of paperwork. “Didn’t notice.”
    â€œHe didn’t check out?”
    â€œNo. But a lot of visitors don’t.”
    â€œWell, can you tell me when he checked in?”
    She frowned, but seeming eager to be rid of me, pulled out the log sheet, running her finger down it.
    â€œThe last visitor, before you, checked in at 3:06 p.m.”
    But it wasn’t him. The name next to her finger was Joe Liguori. Zander’s name was nowhere on the list.
    She saw me looking and closed the book. “Visitor information is confidential.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said. “Does everyone who comes up here have to sign in?”
    â€œEveryone,” she answered emphatically. I believed her. I’d never gotten more than two steps onto the floor before someone was asking if they could help me.
    I walked slowly back to the lounge, thinking how the brain works in funny ways, taking the unlikely scenario of Zander being here and turning it into the ridiculous. Because the first thing I’d thought—my insides doing a fluttery spin at the idea—was that Zander was here because he’d followed me.
    I was embarrassed it even crossed my mind. I mean, really. He’d decided the mental hospital was the perfect place to ask me out? Even though he’d never talked to me at school? Right. I shook my head.
    Demetria was being escorted out of the lounge when I returned.
    â€œVisiting time is over,” the nurse said.
    â€œBut I just ran to the bathroom.”
    â€œBathroom’s at the other end of the hall.”
    â€œOh. Yeah, well, I got lost.”
    She shook her head. “It’s time for her meds. You’ll have to come back another day.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, forcing myself not to argue. “Bye, Demetria. I’ll be back soon.”
    Out of habit, I texted Jack on the train ride home: “visited a friend at the hospital today. she’s