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Chapter Forty-Three

DAHLIA

Present

My eyes fly open, and a smile perches on my lips. It doesn’t take long to realize what predicament I’m in as I stare at the sterile white walls while restrained in an uncomfortable bed.

I think about Dr. Burton—poor man. I had no choice. I only showed myself to him so he would tell Kat. I knew the events of her life made her unstable. I also knew that she’d try to take her life to end the misery and pain that gripped her. It was all part of my plan. Now, I’m free. She’s in her happy place with her perfect husband and beautiful home, where she’ll spend eternity. I, on the other hand, need to think of a way to get out of this godforsaken place. I have no choice but to play the game and pretend to be Katherine Tate. I will be the best and most rehabilitated patient this place has ever seen. It might even be kind of fun.

I’m unrestrained and taken to the dining room for breakfast the following morning. Cereal, toast with various spreads, yogurt, fruit, eggs, bagels, and French toast fill the buffet table. I scoop some scrambled eggs onto a plate and fill a bowl with yogurt and fresh fruit. I sit with four other women—some younger, some older. The one with the greasy red hair and face full of freckles talks to herself. She won’t make eye contact with anyone. The woman with the short brown hair has fresh scars going across both wrists. She barely eats as she picks at her food.

After breakfast, I’m escorted by a nurse to Dr. Seagram’s office.

“Katherine, come in and have a seat.” He smiles. “How are you feeling today?”

“Honestly, Dr. Seagram. I feel good. For the first time in ages, I feel good.”

“That’s what I like to hear, but we have a lot of work to do.”

“I have to ask. Am I allowed to use my phone in here?”

“Well, we have rules regarding the use of personal phones. We keep them locked up. You may have phone privileges for one hour after two weeks of treatment.”

“Is there any way I can have that privilege after our session? I only ask because I need to speak to my realtor. My house is pending sale, and I need to know if the couple who made an offer are still interested in the terms I presented.”

“We’ll see.” He smiles.

We have our session, and I tell him what he wants to hear. When our session ends, he tells me to stay put and excuses himself. A few moments later, he returned with my cell phone and handed it to me.

“You have to call your realtor here, and I must be present during the call. Once you’re finished, I need to lock your phone back up.”

“No problem.” I smile as I dial my realtor. She answers on the first ring.

“Katherine, I’ve been trying to reach you!” Her irritating voice rings in my ear. “The couple backed out. They don’t want to wait.”

“I figured. Just keep trying. I’m out of town and will be for at least a month. So make sure you let them know.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m away on business. You won’t be able to reach me for a couple of weeks. I’ll call you when I can. Have a great day.” I end the call and hand my phone to Dr. Seagram. “Thank you, doctor.” I politely smile.

I’ve been in this damn place for three weeks now. The brownstone sold, and I must be out of here before the closing date. I’m the perfect patient, and Dr. Seagram is highly impressed with my progress—fake progress.

Since today marks week three, I’m allowed visitors. I walk into the visiting room and see Samantha sitting at a table by the window. She jumps up, runs over, and hugs me when she sees me.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe they wouldn’t let me see you until now. How are you?” She breaks our embrace, her hands gripping my shoulders.

“I’m okay.” I smile. Honestly, she is the last person I want to see. Katherine may have liked her, but I find her annoying.

“You look a little different. You seem a little different,” she says.

“That’s because I’m getting the help I need.” We sit down at the table.

“Why did you do it, Kat?” she asks, her face taut and despair in her eyes.

“I guess Oliver’s death was too much. But all is good now. I’m getting the help I need.”

She takes hold of my hand. “Listen, I’m giving you a heads up. I overheard the partners talking, and they’re looking for a way to keep you from returning to the firm.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t going back anyway. I’ll make it easy for them. I’ll call Carter and tell him I quit.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks.

“I don’t know. That’s the beauty of it. Oliver left everything to me, and I don’t have to worry about working, especially with the sale of the brownstone. Once I put my life back together, I’ll figure out my next move.”

“I’m so happy you’re okay.” She leans over and hugs me. “As soon as you get out of here, I’m taking you out for a fun night on the town.”

“That sounds nice.” I smile.