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If not for the bishop stepping in, I likely wouldn’t have seen the light of day. But I didn’t escape unscathed. My hallucinations were even worse after I left, and the feeling of paranoia that they were chasing me followed me for years.

But I never fucking considered going back. Even when life got hard.

Even the cutthroat life of living on the streets and fighting for my daily meals was better than the torture I’d endured there. Sure, I may shiver in the rain, huddled under a freeway, but I didn’t have to be doused in holy water and see my grandma’s hate for me.

Fuck family.

A gambling asshole for a dad. When he’d tried to sell me, I was taken away and given to my grandmother. She was a fucking monster in disguise, far scarier than the ones in my head. And my mom had disappeared when I was little. Grandma promised it was because she couldn’t stand the thought of an abomination as a child. From what dad had muttered in a drunken stupor, she just left us.

Left me.

“Harlow?” Adam’s voice was sharp, and I had to blink several times to refocus and force myself to follow him inside. For someone who looked like a boy next door with his perfect blond hair and big blue eyes, he was a bit rough around the edges. I never trusted anyone who could smile and charm someone one minute, then snap at me the next. “Dr. Vane was kind enough to get you in. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Professional,” I muttered while he pretended to not have heard me. It was nice to be out of jail, but I was so nervous that my filter was completely gone.

The foyer was faded and drafty. It looked like something out of a scary movie with the faded whites and greens. Even the floor here was scuffed to hell.

A reception desk stood just to the right of a large, barred door, a card reader on the wall next to it, meaning we wouldn’t be leaving here without someone knowing. Old habits die hard.

An old woman sat behind the desk, her gray hair pulled in a high ponytail that was tight enough it drew up the sides of her face like a makeshift facelift. She radiated coldness from the shrewd stare to the thin line of her pursed lips. The gray dress was doing nothing for the look.

“Can I help you?” she rasped out. The lady had to smoke six packs a day to earn a voice that marred. I don’t think she could have sounded more bored if she’d tried. If this was the face of Dark Haven... well, I didn’t have high hopes for what I’d find inside that door.

“Adam Boyer here to see Dr. Vane. I’ve brought Harlow Devoe,” he answered like he wasn’t even affected by her demeanor. Then again, he was a social worker, I doubt he saw only nice things and people in his line of work.

She picked up the phone without any word of acknowledgement. This lady was not the face that should be greeting vulnerable patients. Going inpatient isn’t easy, especially those appointed to be here by the court.

“Adam Boyer with a new patient drop-off,” she said into the phone. Her tone was more pleasant but no less intense.

“Take the elevator to the fifth floor,” she said as she stood and swiped a card through the reader, opening the gated door. It creaked loudly like the metal was rusted from years of disuse. Everything about this building felt like a big red flag but I had very few choices, and I’d heard enough stories of state-run facilities that I was willing to give Dark Haven a real shot.

Adam was quiet as we found the elevators and walked in. The faded bronze of the doors reflected the interior back at us, and I had to forcibly ignore the figures standing around us.

They aren’t really there.

But to me they are, and as much as I’ve tried to perfect ignoring them, they’re terrifying.They’re faceless and never speak. Instead, they just lurk in the corner, watching me, as if waiting for something. It’s unsettling.

The elevator dinged as the floors passed one by one. Each floor that went by had my hands shaking. Something about this place felt wrong, but I couldn’t place what it was. All I knew was that I wanted to get the fuck out of here already.

“Here we are,” Adam said unnecessarily as the doors slid open, revealing a long hallway. Between the sage green walls and black and white checkered floors, it looked like we’d gone back decades in the time it took to get from the lobby up to this floor.

For a place advertising to make our lives better, it was dark and dreary. The barred windows were dingy and unkept so what sunlight managed to filter in didn’t make it any prettier.

Our footsteps echoed in the eerily quiet hallway, but he didn’t bother to fill the silence with any words of encouragement or advice.Where are the other patients?

A tall, handsome man stood halfway down the hall. There was a friendly smile on his face, but I knew better than to gauge someone by their greeting. His name badge on the white lab coat read Dr. Elias Vane. Underneath, he wore a button-up shirt and tie and pressed slacks. His hair was auburn and combed back, a trimmed goatee on his face. He looked to be in his early forties, and if he weren’t a psychiatrist I might have thought he was cute.

“Welcome, you must be Harlow Devoe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand, and when I didn’t shake it, he let it fall back to his side, smile not faltering, even as Adam made an annoyed sound beside me. “Don’t worry, we all warm up differently. Thank you, Adam, I’ll take it from here.”

“I just have papers I need you to sign,” Adam said as he held out his paperwork. Dr. Vane signed it quickly and waited until the man was on the elevator and disappearing behind the doors before turning to me again.

“Now, shall we get acquainted?” he asked me. Still, his act hadn’t dropped, so I merely nodded and followed him inside.

“Sure,” I forced out. He hummed but said nothing more as he gestured to a couch off to the side. I sat down and let out a surprised squeak as he sat right next to me, so close our legs were touching. A sinking feeling filled me, and I adjusted the skirt—I was forced to wear—farther down my legs as if that could hide me from his view.

“You can relax, Harlow. We’re all friends here,” he chastised. It came off as a friendly joke, but his predatory gaze made my skin fucking crawl. “Now that you’re enrolled and have crossed all the t’s and dotted all the i’s, we have a chance to get to know each other.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to get out. I didn’t bother to say that I hadn’t even chosen classes or anything yet. My inner radar was telling me to run, but I’d effectively signed my life away for the next few years.


Tags: Jarica James Paranormal