|Book 1: Curious Little Thing||Page 61: Nice People||
The background is dark bluish-green.
- Panel 1
Zane, his stitches covered with two white bandages placed in a cross shape, is looking forlornly out the window, his face reflected in the glass. Mercy is clinging to the back of his shirt collar. Iris walks up behind him and says "Sorry you seem to have had nothing but bad luck since you got here." Without turning towards her, Zane replies "Gosh, if only it was *just* bad luck."
- Panel 2.
Iris continues, "Dr. Angstrom hasn't told me a *thing* about what you're going through, so don't worry about that --" Zane, still looking out the window and looking dejected, says "Do you know what it's like to not... be able to trust your own *thoughts*? Or what you see with your own *eyes*?"
- Panel 3.
The reader sees the two as if we're looking at them from outside the building. They're both looking out the window, and they're in a brightly lit room. The rooms next to them on either side are both dark. Outside is a tall shrub planted close to the side of the building, and then, several feet out, the stone crosses and tombstones of a graveyard. Zane, still not looking at Iris, says "I can't even tell if that's a *graveyard* out this window or just a trick of the light." Iris replies "Oh, that's *absolutely* the old graveyard, if it makes you feel better." Zane says "... Nope."
- Panel 4.
Zane looks skeptical and says "We must be... fifteen miles away from the center of town. Why... Why is the hospital and a graveyard out *here*?" Mercy is clinging to his shoulder. Iris replies "Maybe it was a field hospital during the war. Or quarantined. There *are* good reasons."
- Panel 5.
Iris looks concerned and says "And I *don't* know what it's like to feel that way, but I hope you manage to solve it after you leave Broodhollow. I don't like to believe that bad things happen to nice people." Behind her is a hallway, with a wheelchair sitting empty in the hallway.
- Panel 6.
Zane looks at Iris, an uneasy look on his face, and says "I believe *different* things happen to *different* people, and that *which* thing happens to *whom* can be controlled by the number of times I check the deadbolt." She looks back at him, a concerned look on her face.
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