Page 95 of Her Wicked Plan

“I didn’t believe my friend. I didn’t think someone could be that bad and do all those horrible things I heard about. I guess I wanted to see for myself. How stupid is that?”

With the question, her full blue eyes meet mine. The fading of color makes me wonder if they were vibrant at one point. Did those eyes hold a brighter color the way her hair used to before she got admitted here?

“It’s not stupid, Ruby. You were curious. Maybe next time, don’t let your curiosity get the best of you.”

“Yeah.” She slowly nods. “Have you ever had a near-death experience?”

The question throws me off. I roll my lips together before I say, “No, I haven’t.”

“Neither did I until that fight.” Her voice and lower lip tremble. “People always say that your life flashes before your eyes.”

“Is that what happened to you?” The pen stays frozen in my hand.

“No,” she says. “As I struggled for air, I only saw one thing.” Her hand leaves her lap, resting on the table, when she lightly taps the tips of her finger on the surface.

“My grandma. She was smiling, waiting for me to come to her. I wanted to go to her so badly, but again,” her eyes turn glossy, “I didn’t want to. She died years ago, and I miss her, but I wasn’t ready to die.”

Nodding, I listen intently to what she is saying as a lump forms in my throat. Then a thought pops in my head about why she is in this place. It probably isn’t best to ask her this right now, but it’s my job.

“Do you think the man you killed saw anyone before you shot him?”

Ruby’s jaw tenses and then softens as she thinks about it. “Maybe. I never really thought about it.”

“Now that you are thinking about it, does it make you feel remorse for what you did?” The tip of my pen meets the notepad, no longer frozen from her story.

“Nope.” She doesn’t hesitate. “It was self-defense.”

“That’s not what your file says,” I remind her, watching her eyes fall. I studied her file less than I did Veronica’s.

It was a shorter amount of time I had to read up on her, but I gathered all the information I needed. She stated it was self-defense, but the man she killed was walking home late at night, minding his own business.

“Ruby, I know you admitted to everything in court. I’m not sure why you need to tell me anything other than the truth.”

With her elbows on the table, she lifts her hand and examines her nails. “Maybe I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

“What do you mean by that? You should have assumed I already knew what you’ve done.”

“No, I know, but everyone looks at me like I’m crazy. For example, if they make one wrong move, I’ll flip. A ticking time bomb.” Her hands rub at her face before combing through her faded green hair. “I guess that for once in my life, I wanted someone to look at me like I was normal.”

“I never want to make you feel crazy, Ruby,” I reassure her. “I’m here to talk to you, to make you feel safe.”

“Thank you, Dr. Madden.” A real smile forms on her lips.

The session is short. It was an “I wanted to check on you after the incident” type of meeting. We will discuss what she was admitted for further in the next session. I didn’t want to keep her for the full hour, so I let her know at the beginning.

She thanked me again before leaving the common room.

The week is almost up. That means Veronica has one more day in solitary.

Gathering my things off the table, I pack them into my briefcase and head to my office to drop them off. There isn't much for me to do for the rest of the day, seeing as I had a brief session with Ruby, and my other patient is locked away.

It’s midday in April, and the sun has been gracious with its presence. Most of the patients have taken advantage of the sun and spent most of their time in the courtyard, which means the walk back to my office was quieter. I enjoy the silence until I think about how deafening it must be for Veronica.

I shake the thought from my head as I turn the handle on the door and let myself into the office. I toss my belongings on the table and search for my cell phone.

In need of another distraction, because being alone with my thoughts has not worked out, I press my mother's contact info and lift the phone to my ear.

“Hello, my dear.” Her voice is groggy and soft.