Page 143 of Her Wicked Plan

“Clearly.” A laugh of disbelief leaves me. “Unfortunately for you, Scarlet, I don’t keep things from my best friend. Now, walk away and leave me alone.”

I watch a tear roll down her face before she turns and runs to her ward. If I don’t cross her path again while working here, I’d be okay with that.

Finally, stepping into my room, I lock the door behind me. The darkness consumes me; the light being off and the curtains being closed make the silence insanely suffocating. Is this how Veronica feels down there?

Cautiously, I find my way to the bed, slip off my shoes, and crawl in it to spend the rest of the day experiencing what Veronica does in solitary.

CHAPTER 38

Leo

“How have you been doing?” I ask Ruby.

We sit in the common room, where we have sessions. She fumbles with the deck of cards she was playing with before I arrived.

“Fine,” she answers. “This place could be worse.”

“That is something we can agree on,” I mutter the words, not realizing that they weren’t in my head. When I meet her gaze, she looks at me with confusion. “When I first came here, I expected this place to be like the asylums you see in the movies. White walls, white floors; bright, blinding lights.”

“Thank God it isn’t like that.” She chuckles. “Do you know all the headaches that would cause?”

I can’t help but smile. “A lot. Aside from the facility, how are you doing with the other patients?”

“You mean Veronica?”

“She is a patient, isn’t she?” I quirk an eyebrow. “And she was the only one that has been giving you an issue that I’m aware of, but we can talk about the other patients if you’d like.”

Ruby sets the deck of cards down, splitting them into a pile of three. “Veronica hasn’t messed with me again since she tried to kill me. Other patients have been kind. Well, as kind as a bunch of women in an insane asylum can be.”

“No one has been giving you a hard time?”

“Nope. I’ve made friends here.” She smiles as she splits the three piles of cards and adds another two to the lineup.

“I am glad to hear that.” I watch her fingers spread each card in the individual decks in a line. “Have you considered having any visitors?”

Her fingers stop, and then she circles the tip of her pointer around the Ace of Hearts. “I was thinking of asking if my mom could come up, but I doubt she would want to see me.”

“Were the two of you close?”

“Yes.”

“How did she feel about you coming here?”

Ruby slides the cards together to bring them back to one full deck. “She was sad, but I think she was scared more than anything. Not for me, but of me. She didn’t think I could kill someone.”

“You’re her daughter,” I point out. “No parent thinks their children are capable of doing something like that.”

“Do you have kids?” The question comes out of left field.

“Uh, no. I don’t,” I respond. “I have a nephew, though. He is six. Being around him, watching him grow up, and how carefree he is... it is hard to believe that he could one day do the same thing that you have done. That any of the other patients have done.”

“We were all innocent once,” Ruby states. “Do you think the way someone was brought up could influence how they turn out? Turn them into a killer or make them go crazy?”

“I definitely think it plays a role, but it depends on the person,” I state. “Someone could grow up in a nice, loving family and still turn to the bad parts that life offers. Killing, alcohol, drugs. That could be reversed, though, too. A person could grow up in the shittiest environment where their parents didn’t love them, didn’t care for them, and that child could turn their life around. To be anything other than their parents. They could make a beautiful life for themselves.”

“My parents loved me.”

“You say that in the past tense.”