Page 55 of Girl Betrayed

“Jake.” Dana’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. “You’re right. We’re a team. Leave the visitor passes. We’ll be at your office as soon as Claire’s finished here.”

38

They all sat there.So simple. So easy to manipulate. So many lambs to sacrifice.

I tried to warn them.

I gave them ample time to save themselves.

But they can’t see what’s right in front of them.

They can’t see me.

All of them are fit for slaughter, but I know who’s next.

I will carry out my orders. But sometimes I like to imagine I don’t have any. That I can do as I please.

Soon. I remind myself that soon, I will be free.

Soon, my life will truly be mine to live. The way it always should’ve been.

For now, I watch. I wait. And I grin in the face of this hallowed ground that the foolish lambs think protects them.

39

A faint hintof incense hung in the stale air of the rectory. With their eyes closed, Claire could study the group freely. There were fourteen of them, all dutifully doing their meditative breathing, just as Dr. Dvita instructed. Claire tried, but the air was heavy with judgment.

She didn’t like meeting at St. Ann’s. The rectory wasn’t in the church, but it might as well have been. It was a building next door, connected by a narrow breezeway of stained glass windows. Flyers for community events and AA meetings made a colorful collage on the cork board next to the giant crucifix affixed to the wall.

It was all a bit too B-horror movie for Claire. As she looked around the room, she expected someone to start speaking in tongues or burst into flames.

Her eyes kept falling to the two men missing from the group. Hayes and Max. Though he was an orderly and not a patient, Max had always been invited to participate in the group sessions at Passages. It was at one such session that he and Claire bonded.

She normally hated group sessions. Everyone spent way too much time droning on about themselves and their ‘problems.’Most of the patients at Passages were socialites, celebrities or political types who needed a time out from the real world. It was a holiday where they could dry out from their habit of choice, only to return to it and the cushy life that awaited them at their leisure.

But it was Max who made her realize not everyone was like that. There were a few who’d come to Passages as a last resort. And even fewer who came involuntarily.

Max was one of them. They’d connected instantly. Two lost souls. Perhaps even soulmates. The ache that existed in his absence was overwhelming. She needed him to be okay. He was her only way through this.

Claire’s mind wandered back to her conversation with Betty. They had much more to discuss, but Dr. Dvita was in a hurry to get started.

“Thank you all for being here today. The work we do is important. We can’t let outside influences, no matter how tragic, stray us from our mission. Progress through passage.”

The group recited Dvita’s mantra. “Through rites of passage we evolve.”

“That’s right,” he praised. “We must leave our dependance behind in order to transform into our highest selves.”

“Mistakes can be mended, challenges can cultivate,” the group parroted.

It was these cult-like mantras that made the group sessions at Passages so intolerable to Claire. Luckily, they were voluntary, so she rarely went.

But it was one such session where she’d first met Max. He was someone who found strength in numbers, explaining it was comforting for him to be in a group setting. She expressed how uncomfortable sharing to a room full of strangers felt. That’s when he’d come up with the perfect compromise. A smallergroup of their choosing. It’s how they came to meet with Betty and Hayes. After that, their little circle was inseparable.

It was almost strange how simple their friendship had started, especially when Claire thought about how complex it was now.

The mention of Max pulled her attention back to Dr. Dvita. “Let us keep Taft and Max in our thoughts.”

Claire didn’t like the way Dr. Dvita lumped Max with Hayes, like he too was dead. And she hated that everyone here referred to Hayes as Taft. Max was the only one at the center who didn’t go by the ridiculous presidential or first lady moniker. But why would he? People without identities didn’t need to conceal them.

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