Page 215 of On a Fault Line

I wait until the door closes and locks before I start undressing out of my charity event gown. Just kicking off my heels causes me to groan in satisfaction. I definitely didn’t anticipate needing a getaway outfit.

That’s what I get for being impulsive.

There’s something about being back in this space that I find oddly comforting. I didn’t expect to actively choose to come back, but here I am—just as fucked up as ever and arguably worse.

I glance around my room. It’s nothing to write home about. Everything is functional, but some effort has been made to make it a bit cozy. At least my bed linens are tinted in color and not the bleach-white ones that remind me of a hospital.

Folding my dress in half, I place it over the armchair near the window. I haven’t missed the cold, starched clothes that are a staple here, but appreciate not having to sleep in pantyhose and layers of tulle. Anything is better than that. I’d rather sleep naked than be itchy.

Moving into the connecting bathroom, I unwrap a fresh bar of soap and scrub my hands and face, before rinsing off all of the suds. I brush my teeth with a new brush and travel-sized paste.

When I’m all freshened up, I walk to the bed and pull back the covers. Lying down, I roll to my side and tuck my knees up into my chest.

Then I cry.

I let out the roar of breath that it seems like I’ve been holding in ever since Collins walked out of my life. Lying still, I try to flood out the pain that I’ve been forced to bury.

There’s no pretending anymore. There’s no wishful thinking or going through the motions.

And in this moment, I can’t tell which is worse—having a broken heart or having a broken mind. But right now, I definitely have both, and the combination of it all is debilitating.

Outside the room, I hear some clicking sounds, followed by the creak of the heavy metal door. Rolling onto my back, I see the fluorescent hallway lights flicker through the little window in the door.

Getting up from the bed, I move to the outside window and pull back the blackout curtains just to discover it’s raining out—pouring, actually.

I guess I arrived just in time before the storm moved into the area.

The sky lights up with streaks of lightning, allowing me to see the puddles forming along the parking lot and sidewalk.

There isn’t a car in sight though, and all of the parking lot lights are out.

Weird.

Thunder sounds, causing me to jump.

Something seems off, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just a feeling though, and feelings aren’t facts.

My eyes move to the tree path lining the border of the facility’s property, and when the sky lights up the earth with the flash of lightning, I see a creepy man in a trench coat and rain hat staring at me.

Fuck.

My feet are frozen in my stance, but when I’m given another glimpse a few seconds later, he is gone.

I feel pieces of my mind crumbling to dust one by one.

I’m seeing things. That’s why I’m here—to hopefully get better.

I am safe.

I am fierce.

I am…loved?

Flopping backward onto the bed, I stare up at the ceiling.

I’m going to be okay.

Taking a deep breath, I roll to my side, facing toward the door.

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