Page 20 of Her Wicked Plan

“I like that title.” She grins back. “What is it you might need?”

“When I met with Veronica, she was writing in her journal, but she froze with the pen on her paper. The ink bled through, and I was thinking about getting her a new one that isn’t damaged.”

“Isn’t that sweet of you? If you’d like, I can place an order for one. Just let me know which type you want to get her.” She offers as we continue past the communal bathrooms. My eyes scan the large open entrance before it ends, and we are met with a door on the left. “This door leads to the patient’s bedrooms.”

Now that we have stopped, I glance through the window on the door, seeing a long hall with doors on each side—nothing special. Edith gestures for me to follow her. We turn from the door and head down another hall, where a massive door greets us.

“I’m still surprised she writes in that thing.”

“Why’s that?” I question as I swipe my card.

“It was her previous doctor's idea. Veronica hated it. She told Dr. Davis there was no sense in writing her feelings in the journal.” Edith sighs. “She always has her nose in that thing now, writing about who knows what.”

My mind wanders, imagining the things she could write in there.

“Here we are!” Edith claps her hands together. “After you look around, let me know if you need anything else!”

“Thank you, Edith.”

“You are more than welcome, Dr. Madden.”

“Edith, seeing as you allow me to call you by your first name, you can call me Leo.”

A wide smile spreads on her face. “Okay, Leo.”

Edith walks away, leaving me standing outside my office door alone. The hall is silent since I am the only person inhabiting it. The door between my office and I is tall, standing a lot taller than me.

The shiny, dark wood looks pristine. Almost new. The handle is gold, vibrantly standing out against the dark color as if it has been recently polished. When my hand meets the knob, it twists easily, opening inwards and showcasing my office.

“Holy shit.” I curse under my breath.

Here, I thought the bedroom was too much. I thought I would have to sleep in a room like the patients, but it is well known now that they treat their staff differently.

My eyes aren’t sure where they want to focus first. The office itself is deep and wide, and bookshelves line the back wall, the same dark color as the door. Floor-to-ceiling shelves are filled with books of different sizes.

Right in the middle of the shelves is a huge window with a bench built into the wall and dark curtains wide open to see the view. The large oak desk in front of that is much bigger than the one I had in my old office.

Stepping inside to get a closer look, I shut the door behind me and walk straight to the desk. The tip of my finger trails over the smooth surface, which is cold to the touch.

My eyes catch sight of a silver laptop sitting neatly in the center. They even provided me with a computer. A laugh of disbelief leaves me as I struggle to comprehend how nice this place is.

Setting my briefcase on the desk, I turn toward the multiple books lining the shelves. Whereas most of the books are medical—old, bound in leather—some are in different languages that I can’t make out.

There is no dust on the books or shelves, meaning the doctor who had this space before me must have always kept it clean. While my finger runs along the spines, the window comes into view.

A lake sits back on the property, the fog from the rain earlier making it look creepy—like something out of a horror movie.

Pine trees surround the edge of the lake to create a wall of nature, and even though the pines are fluttering slightly in the wind, the water remains still.

Beyond the lake are woods full of massive pine trees mixed with big leaf maple trees. Leaves are wet with rain, and small patches of snow sit on the branches.

The scene before me looks like someone found a beautiful painting and somehow managed to pluck the scenery out, transfer it straight off the canvas, and place it here before me. While I stare at the trees, I notice no fences around the perimeter of the forest or the lake, which is surprising to me.

It makes me wonder if patients are allowed in this area or if there are designated spots where they can roam. My eyes linger on the trees lining the property, dissociating as whatever snow is left drifts off the trees.

This place might look scary on the outside, but the inside is anything but—besides the patients, that is. Maybe things will go better than I thought.

While my mind runs rampant with all the scenarios that could happen here, my phone beeps, causing my body to jump at the sudden disruption. Fishing out the phone from my pocket, I see a text from Myles.