Page 66 of Ash and Poison

She stood up, lips quivering. She buttoned her blouse and shook her head, blinking.

“Let’s get to work then.”

17

P IS FOR PSYCHOPATH

ASHER

Her eyes changed as she pulled out a folder from her drawer. “This is Doctor T’s browser history,” she said. “I combed through his files and copied it. I found nothing substantial, except for this,” she said, sliding a paper toward me.

“What am I looking at?” I said, going through the papers.

“He was researching drugs for mentally ill patients for a long time, but these aren’t FDA-approved. They’re experimental compounds, likely still in preclinical phases or even rejected. What if he did unauthorized human testing? I have seen this before—patients being used as guinea pigs without consent.” She clenched her hands on the table, nostrils flared. “What if he was using Hollowhaven as his research ground?”

“And he got caught?”

Diya nodded. “That would be the perfect ammunition to pull Doctor T into this. Blackmailed him to help them,” she said, shifting to the side, wincing a little.

“You okay? Are you still sore? Do you want anything?”

“I’m perfect,” she snapped.

Something was wrong. Something had changed.

“You’re perfect, but you know what I’m asking, Diya.”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said, her whiskey-brown eyes steely.

It was that kiss. I had a feeling she felt it too. The change in that kiss. And I was sure she didn't like it.

“You called me impossible. Who’s being impossible now?” I turned to face her. “You don’t have to bite me like a fucking rabid dog just because I asked a question,” I said.

The shutters came down. Hard. It was like watching a channel change.

“Listen, I want to help you. I truly do, but…”

“I already know what you’re going to say, Diya,” I said. I should be happy, shouldn’t I? “I know this is not a friendship. This is a business transaction.”

“Then just let it be,” she said. “I’m going to keep an eye on all the staff.”

I rolled my eyes at how not-so-subtly she changed the subject.

“We need to focus on the ones who were there when Riley was.”

“So… Doctor Stanley and Camille are out,” she said, grabbing the diary she always kept with her. “Doctor T is…” She made a whoosh sound. “The doctors who worked with Doctor T back then?”

“There must be some record,” I said, watching as she opened the diary. “Do you really write in that stupid notebook during therapy?”

I had seen her scribbling on it during our sessions, even when I never said a word.

Her lips curled into a sly smile, the frost slowly lifting.

“Want me to read you yours?” Without waiting for my answer, she flipped open the notebook to a random page. She cleared her throat theatrically, her eyes glinting with mischief, and the darkness was gone.

Diya Sharma was a contradiction, and it was giving me a whiplash. She smiled like sunshine one minute and told me to fuck off the next.

How I would give anything to be a mind reader right about now!