Page 90 of Unspoken Lies

It’s more like tripling my efforts, but he doesn’t need to know that as I turn away and walk toward the door to be buzzed out. The legal system has been difficult to get moving here, and it has nothing to do with our lawyers. Everyone in this city is very closed off, and I haven’t been able to get a lawyer to grant us the necessary permission to get Rachelle out of here.

“I don’t think you’ll get anyone to help you, but good luck with that,” Dr. Simmons says with a smirk before he swipes his security card and opens the door to disappear into the facility.

I fucking hate that bastard.

Shoving open the door, I step into the outside world, forcing air into my lungs in an effort not to scream. I’m so fucking frustrated and I want to know why I wasn’t allowed to see Rachelle. I know Elijah is working right now, but I won’t find out what’s happening until he finishes his shift.

That happens in… four hours. Ugh, I fucking hate waiting, but he’s not allowed to text when he’s working.

My strides eat up the distance to my car, and I get in while feeling extremely frustrated. My first call is to Martin, who has been handling everything the best he can and is apprised of all the details. We unloaded on him recently, and his face was priceless.

I really thought he was going to fire us. Somehow he didn’t, and we’re still working together.

“That was too fast,”Martin grunts, regarding my supposed visitation. “What went wrong?”

“The doctor says she was combative, but refused to tell me what exactly occurred,” I mutter, allowing the door to slam closed as I hit the start button to turn on the car. “Rachelapparently stabbed a nurse, but where would she have gotten a weapon? I have a lot of questions and I’m really pissed off.”

“I want to talk to Elijah when he gets off work,”Martin says as I pull out of my parking space. “The only way I’m going to be able to pull together a case it seems is if I state that I have a protected whistleblower within the facility. The judges in this entire county are refusing to help. It’s a boys club, and the head of the institution is inside it.”

“Unfortunately, I know all about that type of club,” I grumble. I used to think it would only help me, but it’s a cage all its own.

Mr. Reyes has been working his connections, which means this county is being barraged with people who want the facility investigated. Dr. Simmons seemed a little more on edge today. What we’re doing is slowly fracturing their peace, but it’s not enough.

“I have a judge who is sympathetic to Rachel’s plight, but doesn’t want to take any steps without irrefutable evidence,”Martin says. “I’m going to need photos, Jared.”

“I’ll let Elijah know,” I sigh. “Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t thank me. I feel as if I haven’t done shit,”he grunts, hanging up.

Yeah, I feel like I’m spinning in circles too.

ELIJAH

I’m vibrating with anxiety right now, knowing Rachelle just got shoved into a space that’s no bigger than a fucking cubby hole. This is what they do with “combative” patients? Fuck, I’m prettysure Ignacio had a bigger space to sit on his ass in solitary confinement.

My phone is burning a hole in my pocket. I’m supposed to leave it in my car, but no one else really pays attention to that rule. I simply don’t pull it out unless it’s to document what’s happening around me. No one asked me to do this, I’m just so stunned by it all, I feel as if it’ll be necessary for all the residents here.

Rachelle isn’t the only one who’s treated inhumanly here. While she’s my main focus, highlighting the other issues has to help her as well. I managed to take a photo of the blood in the bathroom earlier from the scissor incident, along with all the hair from the nurse’s chopping session.

Apparently her intrusive thoughts were louder than normal, and she followed through. Rachelle looks like a chia pet and a mullet chose to have a baby together. Her hair has been massacred. After the trauma we put her through in high school, I’m unsurprised she retaliated.

Nurse Marie deserved to be stabbed to death.

My phone is currently recording a conversation I’m overhearing from Dr. Simmons, the doctor who dosed Rachelle with a sedative before walking out to talk to Jared. There are so many balls in the air, my head hurts if I think about it too long.

My ability to meld into the background continues, because no one is paying attention to me as I sweep the floors. There are two people on staff that are custodial workers, and they tend to work in other areas of the facility that aren’t as intensive.

Therefore, any cleaning is done by the orderlies. Just because I have a butler in my home, doesn’t mean I can’t handle basic shit.

“Her husband is very upset,” Dr. Simmons says to a nurse. “He’s threatening to bring even more heat to the facility, andwhile we have most of the judges in Oxnard in our pockets, there are things they won’t help us with.”

“Poor Marie,” the nurse sighs.

“Shh,” the doctor hisses. “Jesus, Lora. As far as anyone knows, she didn’t come into work today. She’ll be a Jane Doe at the morgue office. She didn’t have any family either. It’ll be fine, I just don’t know what she was thinking.”

“What’s going to happen with the girl?” Lora asks.

“The sedative will give her some fucked up dreams, but she’ll be fine,” he mutters. “Someone will have to try to fix her damn hair. It looks like a mower went across her head. I just need some time to allow this all to die down. We’ll keep her in isolation until then.”