Page 7 of Under the Bed

He’s being hauled out. They’re rough. Mean.

They’re upsetting me. Making my chest hurt.

Kaleb pays them no mind.

“I promise you.” His lips curl. “Whatever it takes, I’ll come back for you.”

1

KALEB

ELEVEN YEARS LATER—PRESENT DAY

“Enjoy your field trip, Kaleb.” Dr. Reynolds’s grin stretches across his wrinkled face. The therapist who’s been assigned to me since my first day at Berkshire Psychiatric Hospital.

Clouds gather above our heads, casting a gray light on this gray day. The autumn chill seeps under our clothes. A constant breeze whistles in the forest surrounding the hospital I’ve been locked up in for the past eleven years. Orange leaves either withstand the wind or fall to the ground.

In other words, just your typical October day in one of Washington’s forests.

Or so I lead the group of idiots to believe.

After all, there’s nothing different about me, either, is there? I look the same. In my blue coveralls. Sticking to the same silence I’ve maintained—mostly—throughout my entire stay here. Throughout my life, actually.

Inthe face of my silence, my delusional doctor pushes his square-rimmed glasses up his nose. A tentative, shaky smile takes over his confident grin.

My presence unnerves him. I also pique his interest. An enigma he’s dying to solve.

That’s good. Otherwise, I would’ve been transferred to an adult facility long ago. I’m twenty-six, not a minor anymore.

Doc Reynolds said so. A few months before my eighteenth birthday, he told me he was trying to keep me here. That they wanted to move me to an institution in anotherstate.

Since then, I’ve been feeding him breadcrumbs that meant nothing. Anything to get me to stay here.

It worked. The fucking breadcrums have kept me here instead of being shipped off to Florida.

Halfway across the country.

Far fromher.

Shiloh.

I suppress a snarl.

No one will derail my plans to be reunited with her.

Even though we haven’t been in contact for years. Ever since the trial.

Still. Fucking still.

I’ve never forgotten about her. Had to stay nearby.

It broke me when my source—a former prisoner in this hellhole—informed me her dad sent her away to LA. The distance hurt worse than a dozen punches to my ribs. And I should know.

But that’s all behind us. She’s back in Seattle.

The perfect timing for me to break out of here.

To find her.

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