Page 17 of Noctis

“I’m leaving today,” I said. I waved a hand at the file on Dr. Collins' desk. “So whatever paperwork you need to complete, get it done.” I knew I sounded like a privileged twat. I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

He sat back in his chair and regarded me silently. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Absolutely fine,” I lied.

My plan depended on not turning into Laura. I’d already seen what happened when someone ranted and raved about creatures appearing in their room: nobody listened, and their medication got increased. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake, no matter how badly the truth scratched at the inside of my skull, demanding to be let out.

“You don’t look like you slept well. If it’s because of the symptoms you’ve been experiencing, I can increase the dosage slightly.”

“I don’t need a higher dose. I just need to go home, so finish the paperwork, call me a cab, and…”

Get the fuck out of my face.

I smiled sweetly. “Just… facilitate whatever needs facilitating.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

I sat forward in my chair. “What do you mean?”

“When you were admitted, concerns were raised that you posed a significant risk to yourself. Until we’ve completed our assessment and the consultant psychiatrist is satisfied those concerns no longer apply, I can’t authorize a formal discharge.”

“I admitted myself.”

“You did. But once we document credible concerns about your safety, we have a duty of care. The best I can do is move you to the top of the list. The psychiatrist should be able to see you by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Tomorrow morning?” My breakfast churned in my stomach at the realization that meant spending another night here.

“Until then, I’d ask that you remain with us.”

“I already told you that Tyler lied.”

Logan rubbed his chin. “Why would he do that?”

I laughed. “That’s precisely what I want to know, but he seems to have forgotten how to answer his phone, so your guess is as good as mine.”

Logan nodded. For once, he appeared to be giving my version of events genuine consideration, presumably because I hadn’t tried to hang myself in the last twenty-four hours.

“And, of course, there’s the alcohol withdrawal,” he said. “Here, we can give you medication. If you leave before the course is complete, you’ll be right back to square one. Your GP will no doubt prescribe something similar, but it won’t be immediate.”

“And if I refuse to stay until tomorrow morning?”

Logan raised his hands in surrender. “We can’t physically force you to stay. You’re not a prisoner. But I really think you’d benefit from staying. Plus, I’d have to note it in your medical records. Whereas if you meet with the psychiatrist and clear this whole thing up, we can discharge you properly with no concerns on your file.”

I sighed. Despite the unfairness of it all, I couldn’t muster the energy to argue. Sometimes the easiest choice was just to go along with it.

I was supposed to attend my first group session that afternoon. I didn’t go, and nobody came looking for me. Perhaps Logan had warned them I was on the brink of telling everyone to go fuck themselves, even if the alternative was taking up residence in the forest.

Instead, I stayed in my room and stared at the cover of my sketchpad. Eventually, I picked up a pencil and began to draw. Normally, I sketched places. When I was in a good mood, the pages filled with landscapes; when my thoughts turned darker, I found myself drawn to industrial buildings.

I’d intended to sketch the forest and put Edward’s insistence on categorizing every leaf we passed to good use.

But the first lines I made weren’t trees.

My hand seemed to move with no conscious direction from me, the pencil sweeping across the paper as wisps of shadow combined into something I’d only seen for a few seconds. I continued, adding detail after detail until the creature from the previous night stared back at me from the page.

“Oh my God! You’ve seen it.”

I whipped around to find Laura standing behind me. There might not have been any official rule against entering someone else’s room before lights-out, but I’d assumed basic manners still dictated an invitation.