My eyes widen. “What? How?”
“He was in a bad car accident not too far from his home.”
My hand flies over my mouth. I gasp, struggling to breathe.
“Dahlia,” I whisper.
“Excuse me?” Dr. Seagram says.
“Nothing. He was my therapist. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I know. He was a well-respected doctor and will be missed. Now, let’s talk about you and what made you want to end your life.” He pulls the chair from the desk over to my bedside and sits down.
I tell him about my past, Dahlia, and the murders. At this point, I don’t care. Lock me away for eternity if it’ll help get rid of Dahlia.
He listened carefully to every word I spoke, occasionally nodding and typing on his iPad.
“Dr. Burton has a recording. Dahlia visited him at his office and made him record everything she said. You need to find that recorder.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He places his hand on mine. “It’s almost time for lights out, so we will have another session after breakfast tomorrow.” He put the restraints back on me.
“I don’t need these!”
“They’re just a precaution, Katherine. Just try to relax.”
“No!” I scream, trying to fight my way out of the restraints.
“I need some help in here,” Dr. Seagram opens the door and shouts.
The nice-looking man in my room earlier walks in, holding a syringe. He shoves it into my arm, and I drift offto sleep.
I findmyself standing at the shoreline. My toes sink into the wet sand as the waves gently lap at my feet. The ocean water is surprisingly warm, like a soothing bath. I tilt my face towards the sky and bask in the sun's rays, feeling its warmth ooze into my skin. I smile. I feel nothing but happiness, safety, and peace. I look around the area and see a white house—not just any house. The house stands tall and proud, with a wraparound porch, large windows, multiple floors with balconies, and a perfectly manicured garden.
“Hello, Katherine,” I hear a voice from behind.
I turn around and stare into the eyes staring back at me.
“Do you remember me?” she asks.
“Dahlia?” My brows furrow.
“Yes, it’s me.” She reaches out to grab my hand, and I involuntarily take a step back. I should be scared, but being in this place doesn’t allow fear.
“Where am I?” I ask.
“You’re in your happy place.” She smiles. “This is where you come when I need to take care of things. You like it here.”
“It’s a beautiful place. I don’t remember being here before.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you the inside of the house.” She extends her hand. “Come on.”
I slowly place my hand in hers—our fingers curl around each other’s. She leads me to the house, and we step inside. It’s grand and elegantly decorated.
“There you are.” A handsome man smiles, emerging from the kitchen. He walks over and kisses my cheek. “I’ve missed you. Did you have a nice trip?”
I’m confused. What the hell is going on? I look down at my left hand and notice a large diamond ring with a band. It’s not my wedding ring from Oliver. It’s much more extravagant and different. I play along.
“Yeah. The trip was good.”