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“It’s too round,” Jane says, tossing the rock away. “But thanks for trying.”
“Maybe I’ll find a better one tomorrow!” I say brightly. Jane has been here long enough to know everything about the place, and I need that insight if I have any hope of getting out.
We keep strolling, as I take in the view. I’m not being watched as closely, now that they think I’m cooperating, so I scope as much information as I can. There are orderlies stationed out here to supervise, but not many. My real concern are the security guards, positioned at each exit. They’re the real bastards—armed with electric pulse tasers, and not afraid to use them. I’ve already witnessed them roughly subdue distressed patients without a flash of empathy. I don’t stand a chance in a physical altercation with any of them.
“Tell me something, Jane,” I say, glancing over at her. She’s taken a rock out of her own pocket and is rubbing it between her fingers. “How often do the security guards take a break around here?”
“They only do that one at a time, and the head of security fills in when we’re outside. No way out there.”
“I didn’t say I was looking for a way out.”
Jane looks over at me and smiles slightly. “You think you’re the first person to come to me like this? Everyone wants a way out at first, but it’s not that easy.”
She’s sharp, despite her time here. Or maybe because of it.
I smile, dropping the casual act. “So, security is a no-go? What about the doctors and nurses? Do you know of any weaknesses there?”
Jane shakes her head. “You should just give the treatment a chance. They really do want to help us here.”
Sure they do.
My eyes land on a doctor that I haven’t seen before, sitting on a bench and munching a sandwich, clearly taking his lunch break. He’s middle-aged and balding, but has a softer look to him than the other staff I’ve met, who could give Nurse Ratched a run for her money. “Who’s that guy?”
Jane looks over. “He’s new, just started here last month. I hear he’s pretty decent. Does art therapy.”
Huh. Interesting.
“Thanks,” I smile at Jane. “See you tomorrow?”
“Where else am I going to be?” she says wryly.
I stroll slowly back towards the building, fluffing out my hair as I walk. I may not have any makeup or products here, but ever since I decided to get smart, I’ve been scrupulous about my hygiene and grooming, doing whatever I can with the plain soap and shampoo in the group bathrooms. The plain cotton sweatpants and shirts they have us in are pretty shapeless, but the navy-blue shade has always been my color. And hell, it’s not like this place is a beauty pageant. The other women here have more important things to worry about that looking good.
Men can be simple creatures.
I pause by the bench. “Do you mind if I sit here?” I ask, making my voice soft and breathy.
The doctor looks up at me, and chokes on his food in surprise. “Um, yes, sorry. Please, go ahead.”
“Thank you.” I take a seat beside him. “I’m Avery. Are you new here?”
“I am. Dr. Wheeler,” he introduces himself.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I offer my hand, gentle, and make lingering eye contact as he shakes it.
The man’s cheeks flush. He clears his throat. “Nice to meet you, too. Avery…” he repeats, knitting his brow, “You just arrived, isn’t that right?”
I nod. “A week ago. It’s been… an adjustment.”
“I’m sure.”
“I know the program is designed to help me,” I add quickly, keeping my eyes wide and innocent. “And I’m really grateful to you all. I guess I’m having a hard time getting used to all my restrictions…”
I’m going for vulnerable with the smallest hint of flirting, and this guy eats it up. I can see it in his eyes, and the way he leans towards me.
“That’s a shame. I wonder if I can help at all?”
I sigh. “I really miss listening to music,” I say, blurting out the first thing that comes to my mind. It doesn’t really matter what I say. I’m trying to work an angle here, to form a connection. “I would always have a record on, but I don’t have a way to listen to it now. Since I’m not allowed my phone.”
