Page 103 of Their Little Ghost

“It’s proving more difficult than I originally anticipated,” he says. “Her memories are sealed away, hidden in her subconscious, just like he wanted. I’ve been gradually reducing her medication, which will help her see things more clearly. Taking it slow is the only safe?—”

“We don’t have time to do this slowly,” I explode. “We can’t wait!”

We have to leave Pasturesville. This town has stolen years of our lives already, but we can’t leave without her. She’s keeping us here, tying us to this perpetual hell. And until she knows everything, we’ll never be together. Not how we should be.

“I’m doing the best I can. I want to help.” Doctor Warner tries to use his therapist’s voice, but I’m not falling for his bullshit. “What Acacia did was wrong?—”

“Wrong?!” I smash my fist into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. “We had a deal!”

Doctor Warner is the only professional in the asylum to be appalled by Acacia’s experiments, and he sympathized with us. We took advantage of that, exploiting his weakness to free ourselves, only the poor bastard never expected to see us again.

When we returned to Sunnycrest to demand his help with one final task, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Perhaps he thought that Acacia disposed of us, like all of the other patients he’s made disappear over the years. Despite agreeing to help, the stress is taking a toll on him. His rumpled clothes look slept-in, and he hasn’t shaved. It serves him right. Although he doesn’t agree with Acacia’s experiments, his silence still makes him complicit. He’s had every opportunity to raise the alarm, but he’s too afraid. Too weak. Too fucking pathetic.

“This is a delicate matter,” Doctor Warner says. “Her brain is fragile, and her grip on her reality is fragile. We have to be careful when dealing with repressed memories. One wrong move can?—”

“She knows her sister’s dead,” I say bluntly. “I told her.”

His brow furrows in concern. “I warned you about giving her too much information. The exposure could cause a psychotic break. To help her remember effectively, we must tread carefully. With another few months in therapy, she?—”

Months? I expected results in days. We can’t wait that long, and neither can she. As long as she’s under her father’s influence, she’ll never be free. Who knows what else he’ll do the longer she stays? She belongs with us.

“If you can’t speed up the process, we’ll do it our way.”

“Aiden, I don’t advise?—”

“We won’t be needing your help anymore, Doctor,” I say coldly. “We’ll take it from here.”

We’re getting her back, no matter the cost…

CHAPTER

THIRTY

ERIN

I holdmy hands up in the air and rotate slowly, letting the security guard scan a metal detector over my body for the fourth time.

“How long will this take?” I complain.

“We can’t be too careful, Miss Acacia,” my orderly escort chirps. He hasn’t left my side since my run-in with Dad earlier. Clearly, he wants brownie points from the boss.

“All clear,” the security guard says.

“Finally,” I grumble.

The orderly marches me into the visitors’ room. My feet sink into the plush carpet. It’s surprisingly nice here. Pretty landscape pictures cover the walls, and there is comfortable seating. If it wasn’t for security guards loitering with batons and nurses poised with medication, it could be a café.

Only two other patients have visitors. Most patients live out of state, and it’s difficult for their families to visit regularly. Others are deemed too dangerous to be permitted visitors at all. And, worse still, many don’t have anyone who’d even want to visit.

I spot Mom instantly. She sits at a table in a quiet corner, as far away from everyone else as possible, wringing her handsin her lap. As usual, her hair and makeup are impeccable. However, her blush appears clown-like against the stark whiteness of her cheeks, and she’s slathered concealer under her eyes to mask black circles.

She jumps up to greet me. “Erin!”

She pulls me into a tight hug, engulfing me in a cloud of expensive perfume. There’s a lot of emotion wrapped into our hug, and words she doesn’t dare say.

“You look…” She dabs her watery eyes. “Well.”

Above us, the red blinking light of a security camera reminds us we’re not alone.