Page 23 of Martyr
Thank you?
“For?” My voice, muffled against her neck, is gruff.
“For not letting me suffer this place alone.”
I let out a quiet chuckle. “Golden girl, I’m about to enroll here myself just to do this to you more often.”
I don’t say the thought that directly follows: that this place would absolutely beat the shitshow Sterling Falls is going through right now.
Instead, I keep my mouth shut. And I’ll stay here as long as I can, wrapped in Tem’s embrace.
10KADE
I didn’t needReese to find Saint Hart.
I found him myself.
Dr. Hawthorne shadows me down the hallway toward my sister’s room. She is as put together as always, a steadfast presence that tracks my mannerisms with precision. She’s always left me a little unsettled—probably because she gives off the air of someone who canreadothers.
That would be the psychiatrist part of her, I imagine.
Still, some secrets of the mind are better left uncovered. Knowing she can probably guess at reasons behind actions only makes me want to behave irrationally. To throw her off.
It’s a bit ridiculous.
Anyway. Ouranos gave me leave to check on my sister, as I do every month. Gabriel came a few times, but we both noticed his behavior was worse upon returning.
Eventually, I stopped inviting him. The guy is unhinged as it is—no one wants to see himworse.
“How is she?”
Dr. Hawthorne clears her throat. “She’s the same.”
I pause long enough for her to catch up—the step-behind bullshit drives me nuts—and meet her gaze. “I know she’s the same. I get regular reports from her doctor. Tell me more.”
“A resident stole some things from her room, but they were recovered. She is regularly moved to prevent bed sores and put through physical therapy to keep her muscles from atrophying. Her feeding tube doesn’t seem to irritate her. Otherwise…”
I narrow my eyes.
“Some residents like to visit with her,” she admits.
“Why?”
She shrugs carefully. “I’ve heard they like talking to her. And, honestly, if they can open upsomewhere, it’s encouraged.”
Anger sweeps through me at her carelessness. We’re outside her door, now, and I point to it. “You let strangers go into her room? Without supervision?”
Her mouth opens and closes.
She’s a psychiatrist, yes, but she also runs the facility. She knows the inner workings. It’s why she met me at the dock this morning herself instead of sending someone else. Because I pay an exorbitant amount of money to keep Lyssa safe.
Safe in a way I failed as a teenager.
“Well?” I demand. “How am I to ensure my sister’s protection ifanyonecan stroll into her room?”
Dr. Hawthorne nods. “You’re entirely right.”
Great.
