There’s no time for me to ease into one of my panic attacks. What happens next? This is full-blown hysteria.
I can’t stop myself. As if I’m thrown back to the horrible afternoon when Madelaine died, I lash out. Totally out of control. I toss the cup, jamming the heel of my slipper against the pill. When it doesn’t even break, I lunge forward, slapping the tray out of her hand.
Then, because I’m not even thinking a little bit, I back up, irrationally seeking the corner on the far side of my room. Once my back slams against one side, I wedge myself into the corner. In the back of my mind, I realize that all I did was trap myself even more—and Diana is watching me with those eerily familiar golden eyes.
I have to get out. I start banging on the wall.
I’m screaming, too. Don’t know if I’m making sense or if it’s just noise. The only thing I’m worrying about is how I’m going to get the hell away from Diana and her gold-colored eyes. The leather slaps against the wall, my right slipper flying off my foot as I flail. I need her to get back. I need her to stay away from me.
I crack the back of my head against the wall. The screams turn into screeches.
Duncan comes running in. He’s certainly not smiling now. Head bowed, his body like a running back’s, he leads with his shoulder, picking me up as easily as if I was a rag doll. Hell, I’m probably more of a rag doll than a living, breathing woman. I’m useless. I can’t do anything except scream my lungs out, begging someone, anyone to save me from her.
It only gets worse when I realize that Duncan is touching me.
He tries to restrain me on my bed. I flop like a fish. He outweighs me by a good hundred pounds, but I’m fighting mad. He throws his weight around, pinning me down by my arms. I’m wild, but he has the leverage. I’m not going anywhere now.
I want to calm down. I really do. Except all I’m thinking about now is that he doesn’t have my permission to touch me. He’s making it all so much worse. Diana melts into the background as more and more people come pouring into my room.
Her eyes are still flashing gold.
I’m still screaming like a fucking banshee.
Over my shrieks, I can sort of make out Duncan’s warnings. If I don’t stop, he’s going to get the straps. A white woman with wispy brown hair joins Duncan. That’s the head nurse—Nurse Callahan—and she’s trying in her no-nonsense way to organize the facility’s staff. I’m still thrashing, trying to buck Duncan’s weight off of me. When I feel another set of strong arms on my bare legs, I kick out with all of my strength.
I connect. I hear a sickening crunch when I hit someone. I don’t know who. I’m in no state to give a shit.
The last thing I remember is the prick of the needle that one of the nurses plunges into my exposed calf. Even as I’m being sedated, the hysteria won’t subside. All I want to do is calm down enough to warn the staff that the monster that killed Madelaine is in the room with us all—but I can’t.
As the medicine courses through me, I can’t do anything at all.
7
“Riley.”
I hear my name. I know it’s mine, even if there’s a… a disconnect. Like, I know I’m Riley—but that’s about all I know.
Where am I? It’s dark and my head feels heavy. My body, too. It’s almost like my arms and legs have been weighed down by something.
“Wake up.”
Am I sleeping? Makes sense. It would explain this woozy, weird feeling. Why fight it? I’ll just lay here and sleep it off. Then, when I’m up again, I can forget the voice that’s so clear and so close, it’s like he’s inside of my head.
“Listen to me.”
Is he still talking? I want to tell him no, that I don’t want to listen to him, that I want him to go away, but I can’t. My tongue is too thick in my mouth. I can’t even screw open my jaw.
“Open your eyes.”
No. That’s impossible, too. My eyes feel like they’re glued shut. I could probably pry my lids open if I wanted to.
I don’t want to.
“Riley…”
Stop saying my name.
“I’ve missed you.” The voice turns soft. Cajoling. It’s a beautiful voice, lilting, like a lullaby. Despite not wanting to listen to him, I can’t help it. Peace settles over me as most of my worries, anxieties, and discomfort simply melt away. “It’s been far too long.”