to let me live after that? This would’ve ruined their lives. Their reputations.”
The doctor shares a look with my parents before he nods, drawing his brows together, deep in thought. He clears his throat. “I think we have enough for now, Ms. Wright. I’m going to give you some time with your parents, and I’ll be back shortly with something for the pain.”
The officers, my parents, and the doctor huddle near the door, speaking in hushed tones. Every so often, they look back at me, and the look in their eyes leaves dread pooling in my belly. This isn’t good. I can feel it.
The doctor claps my dad on the shoulder, then shakes my mother’s hand, before he slips out of my room, taking his nurses and the officers with him. I narrow my gaze, watching my parents have a silent discussion before me. They don’t speak, but I see the conversation passing between them all the same. Whatever it is about, it changes the atmosphere in the room almost immediately. An icy chill of trepidation lingers at the base of my spine and pools in my belly.
Slowly, my parents turn and walk toward the bed. Michael takes one of the open seats and drops his head in his hands. Surprisingly, Monica perches on the hospital bed I’m lying on, careful not to get too close. I can’t tell if it’s out of fear she’ll hurt me or because she just can’t stand being that close to me. Sometimes, the way she stares at me hurts more than the way she doesn’t look at me at all. It’s like she’s looking at me but not truly seeing me. She’s seeing the lesser version of Madison. She’s staring at the ghost of her dead daughter, and of course, it’s too much for her. It’s why she can’t look at me for long.
“Honey, we…” My mom’s voice cracks, and when I see the glimmer of tears in her eyes and the tremble in her chin, I steel myself for the next blow that is surely coming. “We think maybe being transferred to a different facility to help speed up the healing process would be best.”
I frown, not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. “Okay? I guess.” I glance toward the door, waiting for the doctor to come back with those pain meds.
“I promise, the doctors will take care of you there,” she says, her trembling voice dragging my attention away from the door and back to her. “Your mind…it isn’t right, sweetie.” A lone tear slides down her cheek, and I hate myself for wanting to reach out and wipe it away. I hate myself for wanting to care for her when I’m the one in pain in a hospital bed. She sniffs, wiping at the single tear with the back of her hand. “But they’ll take care of you. This is for the best. When you come back, your mind will be clearer, I promise.”
My breath gets lodged in my throat as realization dawns on me, prompting my eyes to widen. “What?” Hysteria claws at my veins. I try to jolt upright, but my body rejects the movement, and a howl of agony rips from my chest. “No. No, this is a mistake. I’m not crazy. She was there. You have to believe me! I know what they did to her!”
My mom’s face crumples, and the dam breaks as tears roll down her cheeks. “You need help, Madison,” she whispers.
My heart shatters in my chest, and the anger I’ve tried to bury for all of my childhood rises to the surface. “My name is Mackenzie!” I yell, startling both her and my father. “I’m Mackenzie! Not Madison. I’m not her! When will you stop wishing I was her?”
My dad shoots to his feet, his face screwed up with anger. “When you stop pretending to be her! We’re trying to help you!”
Tears spill from my eyes, and the pain slicing through my chest intensifies. “You don’t want to help me, you bastard. You’ve never cared about me. Admit it!”
Nurses storm the room at the sound of our raised voices. I’m hysterical as they crowd my bed, holding me down. My mother cries in the corner as she watches them subdue me. My father’s shaking his head as though he truly can’t believe it’s come to this, and the last thing I see is the doctor hovering over me, his concerned face an unwelcome reality.
“It’s going to be okay, Ms.