Page 5

It feels like a lie, but I smile anyway.

"Me, too, Teagan," Blakely says. "I've really missed you."

"Yeah," I say. "I've missed you, too. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

I push in my chair before leaving the table and meeting the nurse at the front door. She scans her tag, checking me out before we leave the porch, and then takes me to the elevator and up to the second floor.

"I'm going to miss this special time together," I say to Dana, breaking the oppressive silence in the small space. I'm not surprised when she doesn't answer.

The elevator doors open, and I follow her down the hall to the psychiatrist's office. She scans me in and walks away without saying a word.

"Teagan, have a seat," Dr. Watkins says, smiling as she gestures to the seat in front of her. "It's your last day; how do you feel?"

"Pretty good," I lie.

The truth is I don't feel much of anything. Nothing good anyway.

"Do you have any concerns you want to discuss?"

"Concerns?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

"Concerns surrounding the transition," she explains. "Social, financial…safety concerns…"

Safety concerns.Now, there's one I haven't considered. Am I safe? And do I even care?

I picture myself in pieces, all blood and stringy sinew, stuffed into one of The Order of the Red Hand's little black suitcases. It doesn't really faze me.

"No," I tell her, shrugging. "I'm not worried about any of those things. I am, however, less than thrilled about living with my parents and adhering to their juvenile rules."

"I can see how that would be challenging for a young woman like yourself," Dr. Watkins says. "But that's all temporary, isn't it? You can take back control of your life, Teagan. Do you want to know what I've learned about you in the time you've been with us?"

"Sure."

"You're a strong, determined, and fearless woman. And you're extremely intelligent. Imagine what you could do if you channeled all of that to change your own life in a positive way."

I bite my cheeks and take a deep breath.Change your life.That's all I've heard over the past three months. Change, Teagan. Be better. Be obedient. Fall in line. Be just like everyone else.

Sometimes, I even think I could play the part. I could go back to school, get a regular nine to five job, and live the illusion of normal for them all. My parents would be so relieved, my sister would be happy to have me at her wedding and her future children's birthday parties.

But it wouldn't change who I am at my core. It wouldn't change the fact that, even though the woman across from me has been nothing other than what she considers kind and helpful, I sit here every other day, bored, imagining the different ways I could kill her with only what's available in this room. It's a new game I made up shortly after I got here, and I can't stop playing it.

I could jam that steel-tipped pen into her neck.

I could bring that window down on her skull until her brains come out of her ears.

There are at least seven items I could strangle her with.

Given the setting, you'd think she'd be a little more careful. But maybe this place isn't meant for people with my brand of crazy. I laugh to myself a little because…I don't think any place is.

"Do you want to know what my concern is for you, Teagan?" she asks.

"What's that?"

"My concern is that once you're immersed into the real world, you'll retreat back into fantasies and conspiracy theories and allow them to become your reality again."

I ball my fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands and averting my gaze. "No. I'm not going to do that."

"I need you to look at me and say it then, Teagan," she says.