Page 1 of Reflections of Peonies
1
My windowless prisonwas made up of bare walls and bright lights, leaving me alone with my memories. The past—and the expression on Bryce’s face when I’d been taken—kept returning to my thoughts.
Despite everything, my worst fears had come true. My parents had said they wanted me to get better, but I had no idea what that meant. What did they expect?
Meeting everyone had proven that I wasn’t crazy, that the things I saw were real, and this knowledge left my blood boiling at the injustice.
I wasn’t wrong! There was no reason to have me locked away, and I wouldn’t give in.
Someone knocked on the door, and I glanced toward it. I’d expected her to come, after all.
Sure enough, without waiting for a response, Dr. Reed strode into the room. She closed the door behind her. As our gazes met, her confident stride faltered.
“Bianca.” She sounded apologetic. “How are you?”
I blinked at her, incredulous. What kind of question was that? Did she not realize where we were? Did she not have eyes?
“Why am I here?” I asked in return.
Her lips pressed together before she responded. “Why are you in a straightjacket? Is that blood?”
“I was brought here from the hospital.” I was too on edge to care about manners. “But I thought you knew that.”
“Yes.” She frowned and pulled the strings holding the jacket closed. “But I thought that they’d be gentle, at least.”
“They’re never gentle.” I shrugged as she pulled the garment off me. I watched as she set it aside and returned to check the wounds on my neck and shoulder.
“Do you know why?” I asked. I had nothing left to lose, and she might not answer—but it couldn’t hurt to ask. “Do you think they hate me?”
Dr. Reed froze, and her concern steeled over with something unreadable. She turned her worried, dark eyes from my wounds back to my face. “Pardon?”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I’d only suspected, but now…
I had started to wonder. Memories and thoughts intermingled, and conversations from the past began to make sense. Overheard accusations in dark hallways were finally becoming clear.
Theyknew. It wasn’t just my parents. But so many others had known this whole time.
But why would they lie? Why did they keep me locked away?
“I know who I am,” I told her, my gaze holding hers. I only wanted the truth. “I talked to Damen, and the others, and…”
Her brows furrowed. “What did Damen—”
“Why are you suppressing my abilities? Finn said that’s what the medicine was for,” I said. “Why did everyone want me to think I was crazy?”
“Bianca…” Dr. Reed’s focus turned to my neck again. “No one wants you to think you’re crazy. Now let me fix this up, then we can talk. All right?”
It wasn’t all right, but what could I do? I wasn’t exactly in a position to argue. So I remained silent as she fussed around me. I refused to react—despite the pain—when she peeled the dried bandages from my neck. I was trying so hard to be strong, to ignore my discomfort, that by the time she finished, I was barely paying attention to her at all.
Instead, my mind had drifted.
She hadn’t looked surprised. It only confirmed my suspicions. But regardless of the truth, I was still locked away.
Why? Would I ever see the others again?
Finally, she pulled over a small chair and sat facing me. “Bianca,” she began, crossing her legs and folding her hands into her lap. “Please talk to me?”
Annoyance shot through me, electrifying my nerves. Before now, I had been numb and tired. But anger was beginning to swell in my chest.
