Page 46 of Ash and Poison

Trina laughed, and then she growled.

“Not that, you fool… I’m going to make Andouillette with your intestines if you keep doing…”

Another voice in the background said, “She belongs in an asylum.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Usually, Trina was the kindest of the three of us, but she became a beast in the kitchen.

“Everything good, Trina?”

“I have the most useless kitchen crew in the world. My sous chef is a pig. I’m hanging up, Dee. I hope your rat learns his lesson.”

“I’m sure he will. Bye, babe, and don’t kill your kitchen crew yet.”

“We will see.”

She hung up.

I looked at the clock with a sigh before walking toward my tea kettle. Adding some dried ginger, cardamom, and milk to the boiling tea, I poured it into a cup with a sigh. I needed chai to get through this day.

I pulled open the search page and settled in, waiting for the right time to teach Asher his lesson.

Waiting was the most tedious part of the hunt. And the most crucial.

I loved it.

I walked out and spent time talking with Millie and Sarah, listening to one of Jimmy’s infamous songs, and tracking Asher’s every move.

When the clock struck seven, I waited until everyone was in the cafeteria before sneaking into Asher’s room—stable, non-violent patients had their own rooms. If only they knew how unstable he was!

I opened the small plastic bottle on his bedside table, crushed an Ambien—insomnia did have its perks—and stirred it into the water.

When I was done, I went to the cafeteria and sat down, keeping my eyes on Asher, while he kept his eyes on me.

Camille and Doctor Stanley left soon after the dinner was over.

Only the night duty nurses and orderlies would stay in the facility at night. If things got out of hand, I was always available, but nights were mostly quiet.

When the dinner was over, the patients were given a few hours in the entertainment room if they wanted.

By nine, the place was deserted, and shadows moved about, sinister in the quiet that lingered. Voices began to settle.

I waited as the night-duty nurses made their last rounds, checking in on everyone before settling in.

“Call me if you need anything,” I said to Becca before walking out.

Just a few more hours…

“I can’t wait, Pussycat.”

Dear A,

I want to fly, but someone keeps pulling me back down.

Nails on my skin. Cutting, tearing. He likes pain. He smiles when I cry, laughs when I cry harder.

“Tick tock. Time’s a-wastin’.”

He asks me to run, and I do, but…