Chapter 4

The behavioral correction facility in the western suburbs was a living hell wrapped in a veneer of legality. Most of the people locked up here were unwanted heirs from wealthy families who didn't know how to "behave".

On my very first day, I was strapped to a freezing cold operating table because I refused to admit I was mentally ill and wouldn't take the mystery pills they tried to force on me.

A doctor in a white coat stared down at me, his expression blank, as he ordered the attendants to move. A thick tube was shoved up my nostril and rammed all the way down into my stomach.

"Mia said that Ms. Slater is stubborn. We'll need some special methods to knock some sense into her," he said flatly.

Ice-cold water flooded into my stomach through the tube, making my muscles spasm violently. Pain ripped through me; my whole body jerked uncontrollably as huge drops of cold sweat rolled down my forehead.

The ache in my lower abdomen grew more pronounced. I could feel warm liquid slowly seeping out from between my legs.

I bit through my own lip, my arms wrapped protectively around my belly. I refused to let a single scream escape me.

For three whole days, they kept me locked in a windowless isolation cell and put me through inhuman torture. All I got each day was a plate of spoiled food and endless rounds of mental torment.

On the fourth day, the iron door to the solitary cell finally swung open. Blinding light poured in. I was curled up in the corner, so weak that I couldn't even open my eyes.

The sharp click of high heels on concrete echoed closer. Mia appeared, arm-in-arm with George. They stood before me. She was dressed in an expensive suit, and her makeup was flawless. There was no trace at all of someone who'd supposedly just been rescued from critical condition.

"Oh my. What happened to you, Ms. Slater? You look terrible. My heart goes out to you." Mia pinched her nose in disgust and stared at me. I was filthy from being caked in mud and blood.

George looked down at me imperiously. "Have the last few days of treatment managed to knock some sense into you, Geri?"

Bracing a hand against the wall, I forced myself outright, looking at this cheating pair icily. Outside, the wind howled, and rain began to pour, pelting against the ground.

Mia's eyes glinted. She pointed toward the courtyard, where the ground was covered in sharp gravel. Her voice turned sugary sweet as she said, "George, Ms. Slater pushed me down the stairs and almost killed me. As long as she kneels on the gravel and apologizes to me, I'll forgive her. Is that okay?"

He patted her head indulgently. Then, when he turned to me, his gaze turned ice-cold. "Didn't you hear her? Get out there and on your knees. You can only get up when Mia is no longer angry."

I leaned back against the wall and let out a mocking, humorless laugh. "In your dreams."

George's expression darkened. He shot a look at the attendants behind him. Two burly orderlies rushed forward. One grabbed each of my arms, hauling me off my feet and dragging me out into the storm.

My knees slammed down hard onto the jagged gravel. My skin split open instantly, flesh tearing as blood streamed down, mixing with the rain. The cold rain pounded my body, seeping away what little warmth I had left.

Under the shelter of an umbrella, Mia nestled into George's arms as they walked over to stand in front of me. She pulled a small glass vial out of her handbag. The liquid inside was cloudy, and the bottle was unlabeled.

She cooed, "I heard you've been refusing your meds, Ms. Slater. This is a specially prepared, high-purity, extra-strong sedative that the doctor made just for you. As long as you drink it, it'll prove that you're willing to cooperate with your treatment. Do that, and I'll ask George to let you go home."

I had studied medicine. One glance was enough for me to recognize the liquid as a massive dose of chlorpromazine. It was absolutely forbidden for pregnant women. If I drank it, losing the babies would be the least of my concerns. It could trigger massive hemorrhaging and send me to the brink of death.

I locked my gaze onto George. "Are you sure you want me to drink this?"

He frowned, clearly irritated by what he saw as my stubborn refusal to give in. He said coldly, "Mia is giving you a chance. You should be grateful. Drink it, and we'll forgive you."

Staring at his cold, merciless face, I suddenly felt lighter than I'd ever been. The ten years we shared and the two babies I was carrying—we would settle all of that now.

Without hesitation, I snatched the vial from Mia's hand, tipped my head back, and downed the entire thing in one go. The bitter liquid burned its way down my throat and into my stomach, feeling like a ball of fire that instantly ignited my internal organs.

Within seconds, a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. I doubled over, my fingers digging into the gravel so hard that my nails snapped. I tried to anchor myself against the agony.

A gush of warm blood suddenly poured out from between my legs, racing down my thighs, staining the gravel beneath me a shocking crimson.

Mia screamed and stumbled backward in fright. All the color drained from George's face, and his eyes widened in shock. He shoved Mia aside and lunged toward me like a madman.

I lay in the pool of blood, my vision going hazy around the edges. I bared my teeth in a twisted, savage smile and rasped, "I've given your twins back to you, George."