My days were spent working with patients, my mind always drifting to the mysterious woman who now refused to talk to me. My other patients, my more overly vocal patients, kept me occupied. There was one woman who believed she was doing the service of God by killing her entire book club.
It had been just a regular day, they were discussing a new erotica book, and she snapped, pulled out a gun, and shot each of them. She then continued to drink tea and finished the cupcakes splattered with blood. When the hostess’s husband returned from his guys’ night out, he walked in to find the woman sitting in the middle of the bodies reading the bible to them.
She was brought here after the judge declared her mentally insane. She said she was ridding the world of sinners. When I asked her if she’d ever read erotica before, she flushed, and it was all I needed to know. She felt guilty for her own indulgence and wanted to make others pay for it.
At least they spoke to me, and I could assess them. With Alyssa, I was lost.
My door opened suddenly, and she walked into my office unannounced, taking her usual seat at the window without looking at me. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I wish I knew what to say to get through to her. In all my years of working with patients with mental disorders, for the first time, I felt personally challenged.
Her life was within these walls, away from everyone and everything. Her daughter could not see her for her own safety. Alyssa hadn’t gotten so much as a letter since arriving at this hospital, but I’d heard about the hateful ones she received before she arrived. She was alone, constantly picked on by the other patients. She could only be kept in confinement for so long before they managed to get to her. She wasn’t popular. News got around fast—suburban husband killers are as bad as child killers in here—the bottom of the food chain. The fact she was a lawyer didn’t help despite the fact she practiced family law only.
The women saw her as a selfish, ungrateful bitch. Some were here because they’d snapped and killed out of desperation. Her not speaking didn’t improve her situation one bit. She was just a spoiled rich bitch to them.
But aside from her safety, there was also the truth. Maybe it’s those sad eyes. Maybe it was the fact I saw so much more than other people cared to. I didn’t know what it was, but I was adamant about saving this woman and getting her life back.
“Alyssa.” My voice broke the silence in the room. “Why won’t you talk to me?” She twisted her neck into an uncomfortable angle, causing it to creak, and I sighed. “You can trust me.”
She didn’t look at me. Instead, she started to rock back and forth, humming an unfamiliar tune.
“Your daughter needs you, Alyssa. She needs her mom.”
She didn’t budge. I walked to my desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “Maybe you can draw something, anything. Just tell me who you are.”
I thought she’d push it away, or worse, ignore me, but she took it and a pen and started to doodle. This was the most reaction I’d had from her in months, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
She drew various shapes, and I couldn’t seem to follow where she was going with it. Because, in all honesty, all that mattered was I’d managed to get her to do something besides sitting and staring out a window. I was worried she would never go beyond the window if she didn’t start to make progress and soon.
A woman like Alyssa shouldn’t be stuck in here. She should be out there in the world. I smiled at her, and she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
I connected with Alyssa Morgan in a way that transcended words. I believed irrevocably she was innocent.
That niggling feeling I was becoming too involved clawed at me.
Audrey used to tell me I felt everything too deeply. Maybe she was right, but looking at Alyssa, I wonder what life is without the sheer experience of it in its entirety. This was who I was. Having lost my parents at an early age, I tended to have a deeper appreciation for life and the people I cared about. I saw the pain etched on Alyssa’s face, and I felt it in my soul. She tried to wear a mask, but it was slowly falling.
Maybe, with my help, she’d finally drop it.
ChapterSeven
Alyssa
Day two hundred
I’m trapped within these walls, within my head, and she’s out there, but the longer I keep silent, the safer she is. My sister will make sure of that. She knows better than anyone what’s at stake here. But Luke is making my life more and more difficult. I donotunderstand his obsession with me. Why couldn’t he just treat me like all the other patients here? I belonged here amongst these people. I, too, didn’t have a grip on reality.
For a while, I had.
For a while, I was in control.
I looked at him, hunching over his desk. The man was more disheveled than ever. I wondered if I spoke, would that make a difference? If I led him in another direction, would he leave this witch hunt alone? I guess there was no time like the present to find out.
“I killed him,” I croaked, my voice sounding hoarse and foreign.
He looked up, not surprised at all. “I know that, Alyssa. There is no doubt you killed him. What plagues me and the justice system is why.”
I shook my head. It was difficult to concentrate with the medication they gave me.
“I just did.” I cocked my head to the side, trying to concentrate on his face.
