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Dr. Conroy ripped the pen from her hand and then the papers, leaving a deep cut in her finger. He had her wrists secured in the straps before she could think to struggle.

“He’ll come for me.” She looked at him, really looked at him, eyeing the bruising, and whispered, “Or has he already been here?”

“I can see we have a lot of work ahead of us. Your delusions have gotten worse.” He laughed without humor. “I’ll note your worsening condition in the chart for the guardianship review coming up.”

Jude had rarely cursed, but it flew out in anger and frustration. “You can go fuck yourself!”

“Marriage has made you bold when you should be scared, little girl.”

Her body went limp from the threat and tears filled her eyes. With all of her strength, she willed them back in, and grinded her teeth. “I hate you.”

“That makes two of us because I hate myself too, but it changes nothing. We’re still stuck in this shitty world trying to improve our remaining days.”

Jude turned away from him. The doctor left her strapped to the bed and shut the door. She heard the bolt and she was stuck in this holding cell, locked away from the world once again.

Yanking a few times, she knew it was pointless. She would be here as long as they wanted her to be here, or until she was released, whichever came first and right then, she had no idea when that would be.

She despised every aspect of this place, all the different stages they dragged each patient through, but lying in this room “waiting” to be moved to her usual room had to be the worst. Her arms hurt from being stretched out and she wanted her legs together. “They” liked how vulnerable patients were in this position, and took advantage of the hospital gown barely covering her.

Focusing on the box breathing technique she learned after her first suicide attempt, she tried to settle the outrage that pinpricked every awakened nerve.

Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four.

Hold. One Two. Three. Four.

Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four.

Hold. One. Two. Three. Four.

It didn’t work. She was in full-blown fight mode, and knew they wouldn’t put her in another room until she was subdued. The problem with subdued meant that she was giving in and she had no intention of giving in. She never did. She just eventually got moved.

In Bleekman’s, time was irrelevant. It moved over the hours like a snail, every minute escalated to more importance than it should be given, the day disappearing beneath her. There was no beginning or end. Just the sun rising, the daylight, the sun setting, and the nighttime. Four distinct times.

Hold. One. Two. Three. Four.

She watched the sun steal the day as it crossed the room in light and shadows. Maybe the last four months of her life were all in her head. Maybe she had been here the whole time.

No breakfast.

No lunch.

Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four.

When a nurse arrived with dinner, she set the tray down on a table in the far corner. One Jude couldn’t reach and the nurse walked closer. “Why do you fight this so much? You know how this goes, Judith.”

Jude rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not crazy.”

“I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Nurse Lacy. I’ve been your nurse once before,” she said quietly, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one else was listening. She moved the strap higher on Jude’s arm and then pulled some lotion from her pocket. Dabbing a little on Jude’s wrist, she smiled. “They say you’re married.”

“I am,” Jude replied even quieter.

“Congratulations. Is he wonderful?”

Through the haze of past visits, Jude remembered Nurse Lacy. She believed the young nurse was doing the best job she could and actually cared about her patients. She was just naïve to what was really happening at the hospital. “He’s wonderful.”

She leaned down, and whispered, “Dr. Conroy was hit by a very angry husband today, a husband wanting his wife released. Do you think…?” She left her question open-ended.

I hadn’t imagined him. He was real. She smiled. My Hazel came for me. “I do think, but more than think, I hope.”

“That’s good,” Lacy replied. “Always hold onto hope.” Backing away, she grabbed the tray and sat back on the side of the bed. “I need to feed you. Are you going to cooperate for me?”

Jude was famished and thirsty. Eating didn’t mean giving up or giving in. Eating was for survival and to keep her strong. And in her current predicament, she wanted an ally, someone who had shown her compassion, so she replied, “I will.”

The sun disappeared just after the nurse left her room. Jude stared out the small window, having stopped pulling on her straps before the sun was above the facility.

She lay in the dark, her weaker thoughts starting to get the best of her. Was Hazel here? Was he not? Was she imagining things when she saw him? Maybe she was crazy.

Jude wanted sleep. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up to Hazel next to her in bed with his eyes open like when he watched her sleep. She wanted to wake up and see the sun rising outside his high-rise as she lay in his arms. She wanted to sneak out of bed and make him comfort food to give him the same feeling he gave her. She wanted to believe that her life with him was real, that he was real, and not a figment of her imagination, not a side character to her crazy.

Even though Nurse Lacy had confirmed Taylor was alive, she struggled to believe when locked in this oppressive room. “Dear God, please let Hazel exist in the world. Please.” She closed her eyes and eventually, after much discomfort, fell asleep.

The sun didn’t wake her. The doctor didn’t wake her. The kind nurse who had sympathetic brown eyes didn’t wake her.

An orderly did.

Flicking the overhead fluorescent light on, he said, “Wake up, sunshine! Time to move.”

Jude groaned, her body stiff from the tight bonds and her heart aching for Hazel. “I need the bathroom.”

“You’re getting moved first.”

“Please.”

“No.”

She looked him in the eyes. “Please. Don’t make me wet myself.”

“I’ll clean it. I’m used to it.”

Traitorous tears pricked her eyes. They made her show how weak she felt and she hated appearing weak. But she’d wet herself once before when she was isolated for a day and she swore she would never let that happen again. “I’m asking nicely. Please let me use the bathroom.”

“How bad do you want to use it?”

Everybody wanted something… “Is Nurse Lacy still on duty?”

“She’s gone. You’re stuck with me.” He licked his lips as he looked her over.

“Who is having me moved then?”

“Dr. Conroy. Do you want him? Or me?”

Pulling herself toward the wall as much as she could, she backed away from him. “Neither.” There was no good option out of those two.

“Well, there’s your answer.” He unfastened one ankle and then the other, but her legs felt too limp to fight. Her muscles had betrayed her and she glared down at them while pulling on her arms to test them. “Don’t hit or kick me or I’ll leave you in here.”

The smell of corn chips and coffee on his breath churned her stomach, so she turned her head away from him while he worked on her wrists. One arm. Then the other. They fell to her sides, her shoulders screaming in pain from the new position. “Can you walk?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she replied with her head still turned, now embarrassed. This is what they wanted. They wanted their patients at their weakest.

He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and set her in a wheelchair waiting in the hallway. Jude looked around as she was pushed. It was the middle of the night by the vibe of the place. Empty of medical staff. The patients locked in their rooms. The center eerily quiet. She saw the abandoned reception desk and the front doors just beyond. A red light was lit up in the corner—either a camera or an alarm. He turned and took her down a green hallway. “Where are we going?” she asked, starting to feel uneasy.