Page 22 of Shattered Fate

Tears fill Polly’s eyes. During our conversation, JodiAnne’s mother was calm, almost stoic. Now a bit of emotion seeps through, and I relax.

She closes the door to her daughter’s room and leans against it, tears clinging to her black eyelashes. “The afternoon shepassed away, we were walking outside. It was warmer, and she was having a good day. Lucid. Or so I thought. She told me the doctors at Quiet Meadows had been experimenting on her. I asked her how, and she said they gave her drugs that made her forgetful.” She draws in a breath.

“What did you say?” Pop asks, his voice low.

“I said of course they were experimenting. That’s all mental health management is, experimenting with drugs, finding the right combination, the right dosage. Even the therapy is experimental. One-on-one therapy, group therapy, music therapy, art therapy, aromatherapy. Finding a delicate balance among it all to achieve the slightest results. Each person will have different needs, different responses, and it’s a juggling act. She thought I didn’t believe her, and she attacked me. Her nurse had to pull her off. He gave her twenty minutes of CPR, but she was dead.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Pop says, holding his ball cap in his hands.

Polly leads us to the foyer. “She’s in a better place.”

She gives Pop a list of medications JodiAnne was taking at the time of her death and the names of her nurse and psychiatrist.

He and I are usually on the same wavelength, and I could tell by the slump of his shoulders on the way back to the office he was thinking the same thing I was. There was no case in what Polly Donnelly told us.

JodiAnne’s mind was a mess, and her body, after fighting for so long, gave out. Emotional strain wore down the physical, and she succumbed.

Polly and Lionel Donnelly should be thankful God put an end to their daughter’s suffering and that they’re free to live out the rest of their years in peace.

CHAPTER SIX

Zarah

Ifidget outside Zane’s study. Stella’s in the city attending classes, and even though Lucille and Ingrid are always here, Zane and Stella have strange ideas about leaving me alone. If Stella’s gone, Zane’s here, and if Zane’s at his office in the city, Stella’s at the house. I’m not sure why because when we talk about my care, it’s about me finding a freedom that makes me comfortable, and I can’t find that if I’m not allowed to be home by myself.

It’s something I want to mention to someone, maybe Jerricka, but I don’t know how to go about it without sounding ungrateful. They’re trying to protect me, but I feel smothered. I can’t admit that, though. If Zane and Stella did try to leave me alone, even if Lucille and Ingrid were here, I think I’d panic. I’d feel like they had finally gotten tired of me and abandoned me. It’s a no-win situation, and I can’t dwell on it or I’ll turn resentful.

This is all Ash’s fault.

That isn’t what I want on my mind, and as I linger outside the study, I try to arrange my thoughts into a conversation Zane will have with me. I don’t know how to ask. And more importantly, I don’t knowwhatto ask.

“Zarah? Did you want to talk to me?”

I guess I wasn’t that sneaky after all.

I step into the study, and Zane is sitting behind his desk, tapping away at his laptop. For a long time, I was scared of him, and he tries to give me space. I was scared that if I said bad things about Ash, he wouldn’t believe me and he would treat me like he did Stella. All that’s gone, and it has been for over a year, but the feelings are still underneath. I have to remember Jerricka’s advice. They don’t only pertain to ordering a coffee in an unfamiliar café. They relate to all areas of my life, and she’ll be proud of me I took this step to talk to my brother using my words instead of running away from my feelings.

“Can I?” I ask.

Zane closes his laptop and rolls his chair away from his desk. He approaches me slowly, and I hate he feels he has to do that. I know he’s afraid the more the fog lifts, the more I’ll remember and hate him for what he did. He let Ash have control of me, but Ash is a liar and it’s not Zane’s fault he abused me.

I close the space between us, wrap my arms around his waist, and hug him. He stiffens for a moment but returns it, his strong hands splaying across my back. His tie brushes against my cheek and I breathe in his earthy cologne. I need the affection, but too much time goes by and I reluctantly pull away and sit on a couch that faces a large picture window. Ingrid’s in the backyard playing catch with the dogs, and I think after my talk with Zane, I’ll join them. I’ll need the fresh air after this conversation.

He sits next to me waits for me to speak.

“When Gage was here . . .”

He squeezes my hand and tries to pull away, but I hang on and he links our fingers.

“When Gage was here, what did you say? Did he ask about me? You made him leave.” My words come out in a rush.

Zane untangles our fingers and rubs his eyes.

Maybe they talked about something bad and he doesn’t want me to know. Maybe Gage told him I shouldn’t be on my own in the city, that he had to rescue me from the paparazzi—something I never told anybody besides Jerricka because I was ashamed I couldn’t handle it. Maybe Gage told him he thought I was an idiot, or he thought I was dirty, that I was a whore who should be locked up.

No, no, no.

Those are Ash’s words. What he would say when he visited me at Quiet Meadows.

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