I blink at him slowly, his sudden question taking me by surprise.
'Realize what?' I ask after a few seconds.
He rolls his eyes and writes something on a notepad.
'That there was no illness, no delusion. That the story we told you is a lie.'
I say nothing.
He lets out a chuckle. 'You think you're quite clever, don't you, Marguerite? But you aren’t. You have no idea what's going on.'
'Why don't you enlighten me, then?' I say through myclenched teeth, tilting my head at him, even though everything in me is telling me to get out of the chair and run from the room.
But there’s nowhere to go. Instead, I clasp the seat, making myself stay rooted to the spot.
'Your father?—’
‘He’s not my father!’ I snarl.
‘Your fatherhas offered me—' He shakes his head a little at his slip. 'OfferedThe Heatha sizable donation that will keep us open for many years to come.’
‘And what do you have to do for it?’
‘He simply wants you kept here, safe and sound, while he deals with some business. He sees now that you weren’t quite ready to leave us.'
I scoff loudly. ‘Spare me.'
Stoke’s lips turn downward, mocking me, I think. ‘And it’s likely you never will be.’
The threat is clear, and it makes my fingers splay out in my lap. I don’t bother to hide them.
'So, I’ll do what he asks,' he finishes, now ignoring me completely. ‘And if we can remind you of how a young lady ismeant to actat the same time, then all the better. Perhaps, if you are ever permitted to leave in the future, I can send you back better than when you returned to us. But you clearly aren’t equipped for life in the real world.’
I openly sneer at him.
'And when your father is ready?—'
'John Novelle isnotmy father,' I snap again.
Stoke rolls his eyes. 'It’s time to grow up, Marguerite. When it’s time for you to marry?—'
My eyes narrow. 'I'm not marrying. Joe Banderville is dead.'
'The groom’s name is immaterial. Your family hasalready decided that it will happen one way or another.’ Stoke smiles. 'This isn’t a debate. You don’t have a choice. The ceremony might even happen here, actually. And after it’s done, perhaps I’ll advise your new husband, in my capacity as your doctor, that you remain at The Heath indefinitely. It’s quite obvious from your outburst that you’re much too fragile to leave your home, my dear.'
‘This isn’t my home,’ I hiss.
‘Of course it is.’
My lip curls. 'I’m not going to play your games anymore, nor John Novelle’s.'
But Stoke doesn’t say anything more. He’s pressed the small red button on his desk. The door opens behind me, and two Blanks come in. One of them is the man I just hit.
'Take hold of her,' he says.
I stand up and futilely try to escape around them, but of course they catch me easily. Held firmly in their grips, I feel the jab of a needle in my arm.
‘You won’t get away with this!'
