[Opening — spoken word, female rapper smoky raspy voice] The television asks if I am still watching I press yes A small courtesy from the television Considering the evening The doctor's notebook is open His patient has stopped trying to explain There is room on that page for another answer The pen does not move Downstairs somebody tries the gate again Three pulls A pause Three more I write infected beside the time Then look at the word I have never heard this person speak I cannot see their face through the hedge I cross it out Write someone The gate moves again On the screen he turns a page Without looking up he reaches for the tray The patient follows his hand Whatever happens next One of them has already begun preparing for it Mom When you said it would start inside Did you mean the house The locks are where I left them The windows are closed Still I have a word on this page I do not remember choosing Someone I press harder beneath it The doctor says the man is getting worse His hand rests over the place he examined There is blood beneath his thumbnail The camera moves before I can see whose I rewind The camera moves again Excellent A second look at the same obstruction The black envelope is still beside his notes He has turned it face down That should make no difference to me I keep trying to read through the paper A message appears beneath the broadcast THE KING WILL RETURN Which king The message disappears The examination continues Something in that room is preparing to go home I turn toward the hallway The housekeeper has left the lights on My slippers are under the chair One upright One on its side I put them both on A perfectly ordinary thing to do Before deciding whether to answer a door Mom said my voice could end it The doctor keeps asking people to open their mouths Then explains why nothing coming out can be trusted I try the first word quietly Wait The man on the screen lifts his head A second later I know what a delay can do I know how badly I want that to mean something The notebook stays open on my knees I turn to a clean page Put the date above the first line [Ending — spoken word, female rapper smoky raspy voice, quietly recording her notes] I am beginning to feel the doctor is luring me Through the one thing I have never learned to leave alone A good story A starving journalist like myself Watching an unanswered question walk past the window How long before curiosity starts putting on its shoes To investigate this properly I may need to leave the mansion I underline may As though the pen can keep me here Would stepping outside expose me to the accusations Would another photograph become somebody else's evidence Can I investigate him Without becoming his next explanation Several imposters Several accusations meant to discredit me I have their words in different columns My name keeps turning up between them I rest the pen against the page And hear Cinder in my mind As clearly as the nights she used to sit beside my bed (This is your calling Lexi Zita You are royalty Look at your notes The imposters The accusations meant to discredit you Do not let them write the ending in your name The truth The cure Lexi He has been seeking you But now it is time to seek him The doctor himself has been infected The hands searching for the sickness Have stopped examining their own You are the only one who remains Be careful Use your skill The endgame is here Alpha and Omega)
