right through me.
“Sable,” I whisper shakily, my voice shattering with emotion as I stare at my lost sister—at the triplet that we just found out about and have been searching for. But nothing happens as her name takes flight on the stale sulfuric air floating in this room.
We were too late.
The Ophidian stole her away, and now he’s ended her before Delta and I ever had a chance to know her or to love her the way she deserved.
And I’m next.
1
Serenity Peaks Asylum, New York
Sable Pierce
One week earlier
Every time I’m in this room, I look at the same picture hanging on the wall behind Dr. Gupta’s desk. Serenity Peaks is painted at the top in pretty calligraphy over a landscape of lavender mountains with a calm river running through them.
I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes every time I see it.
I can guarantee that a patient made it, and the good doctor hung it up like a proud father displaying a preschooler’s terrible drawing. There is no serenity in this place, and there sure aren’t any gorgeous mountain peaks in the distance of Diregrove, New York, either. If you ask me, the doctor is unhealthily supporting some other patient’s delusions, which seems unfair since he’s never supported mine.
“Are you listening, Sable?”
My eyes drag over to Dr. Gupta across from me, the sound of a low hum coming from his computer.
“Yes, I’m listening,” I lie.
He presses his lips together, the skin around his brown eyes tightening. “Serenity Peaks is closing at the end of the week, and you haven’t spoken about it at all.”
I tap my finger against the inside of my elbow where my arms are crossed in front of me as I level him with a look. He’s got smooth burnished skin and is aging gracefully with only a few frown lines and silver strands combing through his black hair.
“What is there to say?” I counter defensively. “Serenity is closing, so what?”
He sits back in his chair, making it squeak slightly. This office is small, and everything in it hasn’t been replaced for a good twenty years. The water stains on the ceiling, weird Southwestern art on the walls, and a scratched-up wood veneer desk comes as no surprise with a state-run facility like this. I’ve grown accustomed to it, though, and I’ve definitely been in worse places.
Unfortunately, those places have monsters.
“Sable,” he says with a sigh—a sigh that I know he would’ve suppressed if it weren’t for the fact that he won’t have to see me again. I guess the gloves are officially off in this last session. I prepare an epic sigh of my own, ready to deliver it whenever Dr. Gupta gets done offering his healthy dose of useless advice.
No wonder this place lost its funding and is now closing. It’s not like it’s cutting edge or even particularly successful in treatments. This is where the crazy ones go to be hidden away from society. We’re just dirt being swept under the proverbial outdated rug. Now, the patients are all being shipped off elsewhere while this place closes down for good. I’m sure Dr. Gupta will be off to enjoy retirement, probably going on old people cruises around the Caribbean. Lucky bastard.
“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” I tell him dryly. “I’m not going to snap just because my routine is getting messed up or because I have to be in a car and be driven to...where am I going again?”
Dr. Gupta looks at the screen of his computer briefly. “You’ll be going to a facility in Massachusetts.”
“Right. Anyway, the point is, I’m fine. I’ll be a good little insane person and not go batshit crazy on the way.”
He shakes his head but otherwise doesn’t address my snarky words. “I don’t want you to internalize this, Sable. You’ve been at Serenity for the past four years.”
“Yeah, and before this, I was in the real world on my own for six years, and before that, I was in a different nuthouse from the age of three until eighteen,” I remind him. “I’m not internalizing it. I just truly don’t care. My crazy will still be crazy whether I’m in New York or Massachusetts. It doesn’t matter.”
He watches me with disappointment, so I glance down and mess with the ends of my straight black hair just so I don’t have to deal with the judgment in his deep brown gaze.
I’m not completely lying—I really don’t care where I am. Here or there, it makes no difference to me.