Page 60 of The Influencer
I glance at the name tag pinned to his uniform. “I always do, Theo.”
The man smiles brightly, tipping his hat at me. “You have a nice day, now.”
“You too,” I call, waving as I ease away from the guard shack. One step away from incarceration and another step closer to freedom.
In that moment, my resolve crystallizes. My future beckons like the long, open road before me. Soon, I’ll start over. Maybe Monterey or Mount Shasta. I think Kelly would flourish in a place like that. I smile, thinking of Kelly’s admission that she’d found a new therapist for me—someone she thought would be a perfect fit. I sure hope it’s as good a fit as Kelly believed, for her sake. I grin when I think of all the years of intensive psychiatric therapy and medications ahead of her. I marvel at the hours of careful planning that led up to this moment. From the day Iwas walked into the state hospital, I began planning my getaway.
More than just luck, it’s a testament to my unshakable determination to persist through hardship. I am master of the pivot. Mia Starr will never be silenced; she’s just on sabbatical for a while. I never allowed my mind to consider what I would do after my release from the state hospital. It felt like a dream too big to dream. Something far out of my reach. But as long as I can continue to make the most of each opportunity thrust my way, I know I can prevail. I will get my life back, and no one will stand in my way. Not Kelly or Jesika or Bishop. Not even the state of California.
I feel deliriously happy for the first time since I was pinned for the unfortunate accident that stole that woman’s life on the Riverwalk. Friends or not, I resolve to leave the past in the past and never utter her name again. Vindication swells in my chest, and a smile so big it hurts my cheeks covers my face. Dean and I can get our lives back—maybe not now, maybe not soon. But we will. He is it for me. Even after all this time, I can feel him in my bones. He is part of me, and he always will be. I just have to make him see it too. And I know when the time is right, he’ll be thrilled to see me.
I point my car in the direction of Chicago.
Fortune favors the bold, after all.
I just have to get rid of the blood on my hands first.
Epilogue
Kelly Fraser, LLP
“She’s still convulsing. Let’s push another cc of anticonvulsant and see what happens.”
My muscles twitch and pulse uncontrollably. The sensation of unfallen tears burning my eyelids is painful. I’d give anything to launch out of this bed and tell them they have the wrong person, but I can’t.
Shae made sure of that.
I try again to moan, yell, form words at all, but I’m paralyzed from head to toe.
“I didn’t know coma patients could have convulsions,” the second nurse mumbles.
“Epileptic seizures are common after trauma, especially in the first seventy-two hours. It’s less common a month on from the inciting event, but the surgeon thinks her body is reacting poorly to the skin grafts used to repair her tongue.”
“Her tongue?” The second nurse sounds confused.
“Oh, I forgot that you weren’t hired until after the strike…” The first nurse trails off. “Well, it was a crazy day. Shae left the hospital during the strike, and I think… Well, I think she thought she could get lost in the chaos and just…vanish.” I can feel the nursepushing a fresh round of medicine into my IV. “They found her unconscious near the old kiln at the back of the property, third-degree burns covering her face and hands and a suicide note in her pocket. What a way to go, right? Death by fire. I think she had a psychotic break. She was so calm in the months leading up to that. I guess you never really know what’s going on in someone’s head, do you?”
More ravaged tears clutch at my throat. I never imagined I’d come to Pacific View Psychiatric and not leave. I never imagined that soon I would find myself trapped in my own body, unable to speak. Locked in a prison of singed flesh and excruciating pain. Frozen in flame forever.
And worse than the physical pain is the mental anguish of knowing that she will get away with it for one simple reason—no one knows to look for me. With my family gone and my sister living out her next adventure around the globe, there hasn’t been anyone to worry about me in a long time. I mentioned moving the last time I spoke to my sister, so even when she comes home someday, she won’t know where to look. I came into this world alone, and I will die alone. I’ve tried to resolve myself to this thought over the last month, but on good days…on good days, I allow myself to dream of a time when I’m healed. If I could only form enough words to ask for a DNA test, I could prove I am not who they think I am. I could prove that I was framed. I could prove that the real villain didn’t attempt suicide that day; she got away.
I realize now she asked so many questions about my family not because she wanted to get to know me, but because she was gathering information. Every moment of our time together was a fact-finding mission, the knowledge stored away in her mind until it was of use to her. Just when I thought I’d finally founda true friend.
Some people leave a mark on you, and you have to live with the scar.
A phantom shudder racks my body as I focus all of my concentration on forming my lips into a single word:Shae.
THE END
