Natasha came again the next day, still asking questions Baker did not know how to answer. The female agent pressed him step by step, and Baker felt he was about to go insane.
Then came another long, boring round of psychotherapy—nothing more than filling out forms and answering questions. Schiller spouted feel-good platitudes anyone could look up on the Web. It did nothing to solve any of Baker's problems and wasted a great deal of his time.
At the same time, Baker could feel the so-called healing agent taking effect inside him. His arms and chest no longer hurt as much, but the side effects were gradually appearing as well. He constantly felt weak and drained.
Unable to eat or sleep properly while under enormous mental pressure, Baker became extremely frail in just a few days. His face was pale, his limbs weak, and even speaking took effort.
But worse than his physical weakness was his mental state. During the day, he had to endure the agents' questioning, and at night, he could barely get any sleep. He kept having nightmares, always dreaming that someone was chasing him, killing him over and over until he jolted awake. All that pain turned into irritability and rage, pushing him to the brink of a breakdown.
Finally, five days after his rescue, Baker could not take it anymore.
After five days of treatment, the wounds on his body had mostly healed. At least he could move now. He was still weak from the drug's side effects, but getting out of bed was no longer a problem.
So, on the fifth night, Baker quietly climbed out of bed and dug his phone out of the cabinet beside him. When he turned it on, he found that his account had been constantly posting updates about