Page 50 of Pretty Cruel Love

“I’ve heard it doesn’t work.”

His lips curve into a half-smile, sending a familiar fluttering in my chest.

“Most doctors in my field would agree with you,” he says, “but the way I handle it here is quite effective, and it ensures that I extract nothing but the truth from my patients.”

“I could’ve sworn the truth serum experimentations were only for your worst patients.”

“It is.” He leans forward and flips a box open, revealing a collection of glass vials. The liquids all bear a different color—pale blue, airy pink, grass green, and a crimson red.

“You’ve already given me permission to use them if things on the outside with your case get dire, and…” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for me to catch his drift.

“How long will I have to be under?”

“As long as necessary,” he says. “It’s in your best interest to let me administer the first dose tonight.”

I nod. “Okay.”

He shuts the box and tucks it under his shoulder. Then he abruptly leaves the room.

What the…

I wait a few minutes, assuming he left to put the box away and will return soon, but the next thing I hear is the clicking flames on our gas stove.

“Is that the end of our session?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Okay, well…” I look over the chessboard. “I’m still waiting for you to make the next move in our game.”

He keeps his back turned to me, bringing a tea kettle to a screeching boil.

Even the cameras seem confused at his sudden coldness. From the wall, they inch their heads closer to him instead of me.

He pours two cups before turning around. Looking at me, then the cameras, he mumbles something I can’t quite catch. Something that makes them slink back into their positions on the wall.

“There’s something I can’t quite understand about you.” His voice is terse. “Something you need to make clear or we’re going to have a problem…”

I swallow, waiting.

“I was reading through your interview transcripts this morning,” he says. “There’s no mention of Shadow Man in any of them—not even ones with your lawyer, so it’s time for you to officially cut the shit…You said that you arrived to the scene and the victims were already dead?”

“Yes.” Same answer as always.

“Then you had to have crossed paths with the person who did commit this.” He looks deep into my eyes. “Timeline wise, even if you weren’t involved, you had to have caught a glimpse or known who the real killer was.”

This room suddenly feels ten times smaller.

The cameras softly click in succession, like they always do when they’re adjusting their microphones to make sure they catch every syllable in my response.

“I guess I should make it a question.” He looks impatient. “Why would you take the fall for a complete stranger?”

“I never thought I’d get arrested for what the real murderer did.” I admit. “I thought it’d be obvious that someone else did it, but by the time…”

“By the timewhat, Sadie?”

“By the time everything was said and done, and they were showing me all the so-called evidence, I was beginning to wonder if I’d imagined someone else being there before me, too.”

“So, you did see the suspect?”

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