Page 97 of Her Wicked Plan

Why hadn’t I thought about this in the first place? I’ll let him in. I’ll allow him to do whatever it takes to help me, even if it means taking his shitty advice or shedding a tear here and there. I’ll allow him to dig deeper and pick apart my brain more than any other doctor has.

If I’m not sleeping my time away, I review the plan. I distract myself with ideas and notes that I store deep in my brain for safekeeping. When I get back to my journal, I can write them down.

My eyes have adjusted to the dark by now, and as I glance up at the middle of the ceiling, I find the dumb bulb that doesn’t work. I flash it the finger even though it is the guard’s fault I’m without light. Being in pitch black is going to suck when I get back up to my normal life above ground.

How long will it take for my eyes to adjust? Everything will be way too bright, but I’ve prepared myself with a pep talk, knowing I’ll have a massive headache because of the brightness.

Lying back on the bed, my gaze holds on the ceiling. I can make out the cracks in the paint. Pieces have fallen off, landing on the floor beside me without a sound. If the upstairs looked like this, I’m not sure what I would do. I’d be grumpier, that’s for sure. Everyone would be.

With my hands resting lightly on my stomach, I twiddle my thumbs but stop the movement when my stomach growls loudly, begging to be fed. At this point in my stay, however long it’s been, my fear of being alone has turned into anger.

I am angry with myself for getting put down here and with Leo for not sticking up for me. He couldn’t, though, and I must keep reminding myself of that. I get it because it’s his job to listen to Dr. Bennett.

That doesn’t mean I can’t still be mad about it.

My mind goes back to Leo, and I wonder what he has been doing while I’ve been away. He must have already had a session with the newbie, and the thought alone makes my blood boil beneath my skin.

Did he take on any other patients while I’m gone? What if he enjoys treating them more than me and decides he isn’t fit to be my doctor?

What if he is messing around with them too?

He wouldn’t, but thinking about it makes the anger dig deeper into my bones, gripping onto the ivory skeleton of my body and creating a home.

Jealousy. He accused me of it before. Was that what this was? Not wanting another woman to touch him? Only wanting him to be for me?

It better not be because if it is, then I’m in a lot of trouble when it comes to using him to escape. I enjoy the attention he gives me—not when he asks me questions about my past but when his lips are on mine and when his hands explore my body. It makes me feel good knowing someone still wants me in that way.

Why haven’t I been daydreaming about those times we spent together? That would have been a hell of a distraction and made the time go by faster.

As my thoughts slowly wander to the dirty acts we have performed in the privacy of his office, I hear the jingle of keys. The sudden noise tears my focus from the ceiling.

My head falls to the side. I stare at the door, patiently waiting as the person inserts the key into the hole and twists it. The clicking sound of the door unlocking causes my heart to race, but I remain calm outside.

I don’t know what day it is. Am I being released, or is the guard finally growing a pair and fixing the damn light?

I remain utterly still, not getting up from the bed.

The door slowly opens, and lukewarm eyes coast across the room until they land on me. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” I tell Dr. Bennett, finally pushing myself up from the mattress.

“Good.” He seems pleased. A stark contrast from the last time I saw him. “Let’s go then.”

He leaves the doorway, allowing me to leave the room first. As I walk out into the hall, a weight lifts off my shoulder. All the anxiety and fear that had been wrapped around me like a blanket has been torn off and left discarded on the lumpy bed. I can finally breathe again.

When we get up to the main floor of the asylum, that weight has fully left my body. I squint my eyes, the warm lights brighter than usual. My head remains lowered to watch where I am walking and not have to squint as hard to focus.

Luckily, after a while, my vision adjusts to the difference in lighting, and I can raise my head. The light directly hitting my eyes still hurts, but it’s manageable.

I stare at the back of Dr. Bennett’s head, white hair freshly combed, while he leads us down the corridors. On each side of us, girls huddle together and stare at me.

What do they see when they gawk at me?

Some are whispering. Some stay silent.

We reach my bedroom several minutes after walking, but I don’t enter. My body stays where it is, feet sinking into the floor. I stare into my room with a fresh pair of eyes.

Why had I ever said this room sucked? Compared to the dungeon where I spent my last week, this square space seemed like a room at the Hilton.