Page 45 of Her Wicked Plan

When was the last meal I ate?

The cafeteria was almost empty, with only a few girls taking up space at the tables. I take a sandwich from the chef and a soda before leaving.

On my way through the hall, a piano sounded from the common room, causing me to stop in my tracks. The song sounds familiar but is hard to place with how out of tune the instrument is.

Walking backward, I crane my neck and glance to see Eliza sitting on the wooden bench, playing beautifully. My gaze stays on her for a moment, watching from afar how her fingers move smoothly over the black and ivory keys. Then my attention gets dragged to the mess of curls sitting in her normal spot.

She was writing at some point but now has her fingers rubbing her temple with a tight jaw. Her chest rises and falls with annoyance. The sight of her irritation pulls a laugh from me.

Shaking my head, I step into the room as Eliza continues playing, and Veronica attempts to calm herself down. Approaching her quietly, I rest my hand on her shoulder, which startles her.

Veronica’s hands drop to her lap, her round eyes finding my hand, and I watch as her jaw tightens even more. When her hard gaze finally meets mine, she relaxes a bit, knowing I’m the one touching her.

“Make. It. Stop.” She demands.

“She’s playing very well.”

“The piano sounds like it's fucking dying.” She states. “They need to get someone in here to fix it, or I swear one of these days, I will smash it to pieces.”

“With what?” I question, knowing damn well there really isn’t anything for her to use.

Her eyes squint at me. “I’ll get creative.”

“You will do no such thing,” I warn her, my hand leaving her shoulder.

She grunts. “You’re no fun.”

“Apologies for not letting you smash a piano.” I look back over to Eliza, who is still playing. She’s in her own little world.

“The poor girl is trying to get close to me again,” Veronica says. “She is still afraid of me, but slowly, she is trying. What the hell is it about me that makes her want to be friends with me?”

“It must be your welcoming energy and generous kindness.”

“Ha ha.” The words sarcastically leave her mouth. “You should quit and become a comedian, Dr. Madden.”

“Why would I quit when I’m good at what I do?” I stare back down at her. The way she is looking up at me springs images into my mind that shouldn’t be there.

Stop it, Leo. She is your patient.

“Cocky much?” She smirks.

“Very,” I say honestly. “But just so you don’t hurt anyone tonight.” I move over to where Eliza is playing, leaning down to tell her to stop. She stares at me with confusion, but she soon finds Veronica's heated gaze. She pushes the bench away and walks over to the bookshelf. Spinning on my heel, I make my way back to the woman in the chair. “You’re welcome. Goodnight, Veronica.”

As I walk away, I hear her shuffle out of her chair to follow me. I know it isn’t to say thank you. I keep walking until I’m a little further down the hall.

“Can I ask you something?” She comes to stand in front of me. “We only meet two days a week, but you are here all the other days. Don’t you ever go home? I mean, if I had the chance to leave here for a little while, I would take it.”

“I don’t live close to the asylum. Because of those reasons, they offer a room for the doctors and nurses to stay in; that way, they don’t have to make the commute.”

Her eyes go wide. “You’re willingly staying in a room here?”

A breathy laugh escapes me. “I’m sure my room is nothing like the ones they provide the patients.”

“How would you know? You haven’t seen the whole place yet.” She steps closer, a breath getting caught in my throat. “I can give you that tour you are desperate for Scarlet to give you. We can start off in my bedroom.”

“That would not be a good idea.”

“No?” She bites her lip, and fuck, it does something to me. “Okay then, we can start in your bedroom.”