Page 62 of Haven't Killed in Years

And I owed it to Natalie. She had killed three people. Maybe more. I hadn’t seen or heard from her since I was thirteen, but I knew her. I knew she couldn’t end up in prison for the rest of her life. Whatever she had done, whatever she had yet to do, I could not let her end up locked up again.

Thirty-Two

Eighteen years ago

The Gwen and Natalieroommate experiment had proven thus far to be a success. The first few nights, the staff had held their breath, waiting for Gwen to start screaming and for them to have to run in and tear Natalie off her, but the screams never came. It was time to acclimate Natalie into other areas.

Gwen accompanied her to her first therapy group. “Remember,” Gwen instructed her, “try not to say anything. It’s easy. The little kids will talk the whole time.”

Natalie agreed, not looking to say anything anyway.

Gwen was right. There was one little girl in particular who wouldn’t stop talking. She didn’t even have real feelings. She thought hunger was an emotion. A boy named Declan, seated on the other side of Natalie, told that girl to shut her fat ugly face and got in trouble. He was lanky and a couple years older than Natalie. She felt uncomfortable around him and he picked up on it immediately, almost like he had a sixth sense.

“Look who they let out of the pen,” he whispered.

Natalie tried to ignore him, but he reached over and flicked her arm.

“Declan!” the group leader yelled. “No side talking.”

“Make her talk, then,” he said, posturing.

“We don’t make anyone talk until they’re ready. You know that,” she said.

He slid into an exaggerated reclined position in his chair. “Whatever.”

The lady moved on, but Declan didn’t. A minute later he sat back up. “Hey,” he hissed toward Natalie. “You must have done something real bad if you won’t say.”

Natalie kept her eyes on her fingertips.

“Hellooo?” He leaned into her space. She could see his blackheads; she could feel his breath.

“Stop it!” Gwen scolded, reaching over and using her full palm to shove his head away from Natalie.

“What the hell?!” he squawked, jumping to his feet, ready to fight.

“Declan!” the lady shouted.

He moved to Gwen, towering over her, but she stayed in her chair.

“Don’t fucking touch me ever again,” he spat down at her.

She stared up at him, those still eyes.

“Declan!” the woman repeated. “Back in your seat!”

“Make her say she’s sorry,” he demanded.

“Gwen, apologize to Declan.”

Declan glared down at the girl, waiting for a forced apology. Gwen cracked a devious smile then jolted toward him. It was enough to make him flinch.

Oozing with embarrassment, Declan took a step back around Natalie and kicked his chair, skidding it across the tile until it crashed down onto its side.

“Declan!” the woman screamed. “That’s it, three strikes. Back to your room.”

He recoiled, turning to her. “What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Out!” she insisted.