Page 14 of Her Wicked Plan

“He has a meeting this morning and asked me to introduce you to Ms. Rollins.” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “I’m sure you had a long drive and would like to relax.”

She walks down the hall with one last smile, leaving me alone.

It had only been ten minutes since Edith left me, and the speed I unpacked was probably a world record. I should have put things neatly in the drawers, but my nerves got the best of me.

The bedroom they set me up with is more than I expected. There is a nice queen-sized bed against the back wall in the middle of the deep blue paint.

A long dresser sits to the left of the bed, holding all the belongings I packed, while the tall armoire holds my button-ups and slacks—I don’t want them to get wrinkled and have the other doctors and nurses here think I’m unprofessional.

She mentioned she would take me to meet Veronica after I settled in. What I should have done was take my good old time.

I should have been getting to know my bedroom, maybe even inspecting every intricate detail while I was here, but I had to get this meeting over with. Then maybe I can go back to normal.

I freshen up in the bathroom, which I wasn’t expecting to be so nice. The stand-up shower with emerald-tiled walls and beautiful tiled flooring is paired with the same marble color on the vanity.

If I didn’t know I was at an asylum right now, I’d think I was at an extravagant hotel.

Splashing water over my face to cool myself down, I pick up a white cotton bath towel and pat my skin dry. My eyes lift to meet my reflection.

The five o’clock shadow has been shaved from my face; my hair is styled into a wavey mess on the top of my head, a single hair dangling on my forehead. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get it to stay with the rest of my hair.

Oh well, it’s the least of my worries.

Green eyes stare back at me through the mirror; if I can see the panic in my eyes, so will the patients. Inhaling a deep breath through my nose, I exhale long enough until all the air is out of my lungs.

“It’s going to be fine.” I remind myself before pushing off the counter and leaving my room.

The walk back to the lobby is easy to remember since I take a left out of my wing, and then the door to the lobby is on the right. When I go through, Edith is alone now; the two patients have gone elsewhere.

“That was quick!” Edith states when I round the corner and come into view.

“I unpacked most of my stuff. Figured I would get this meeting out of the way.” Shit, did that come out arrogant?

“Eager, are we?” She looks at me through her small, rimmed glasses.

“If I’m being honest, I’m pretty nervous.” I rub the palms of my hands together.

“You’ll be fine, Dear!” Edith waves off my worry. I wish it went away with her words, but it is still in my mind. Walking from behind the front desk, the old woman gestures for me to follow her.

Back out of the same door I had just come through, we passed the wing to the employees' rooms and continued straight. We turn left and then a sharp right, bringing more patients into my sight.

They are all standing around the hall, talking in groups. It’s almost like a scene in a school hallway, except everyone is wearing the same attire, only different colors.

On our right is a closed door with the words “cafeteria” plastered on the window. A couple more steps down the hall and we reach an open door.

“This is the common room. Veronica enjoys sitting in here most of the time,” Edith voices next to me. “I’m going to let you approach her alone. She doesn’t like to be crowded.” The woman's smile is sweet; positivity pours from her expression like she is trying to help me. “She’s right over there.”

I follow where her finger points and am met with a woman who can’t be much younger than I am. She is wearing gray sweats that cinch at the ankle with a white crew neck.

Her hair is full of wild curls, somehow maintained, given that she is locked up here.

Her pale skin appears delicate and flawless, and her body has no markings other than the freckles that litter her skin. She seems to be writing in a journal, her hand moving effortlessly across the paper, but she abruptly stops the movement.

It is almost like she can sense me staring at her; my breath hitches when her eyes leave the book to meet my gaze. Big, brown eyes glare back at me.

The freckles scattered over her arms also cover her cheeks and nose. We hold eye contact for a moment. As I let out a long, silent sigh, her face changes from a blank stare to a wicked grin.

CHAPTER 5