LOGINMelody’s POVWhen the car stopped, the air that met me was too clean, and too cold. The faint scent of disinfectant clung to my coat as I stepped inside. A nurse led me down the long corridor, white walls, humming lights, everything bright enough to sting the eyes.“Dr. Halpern would like to see you before you rest,” she said.Of course he would.His office door was half-open. I heard the rustle of papers, the careful, deliberate click of his pen before he looked up.“Melody.” Her smile was the same practiced calm I had seen a hundred times. “You did well today.”I didn’t answer right away. I stood by the door, waiting for something else, some official phrase, maybe a mention of discharge. Instead, she gestured for me to sit.“You kept your composure,” she continued. “No incident. No visible distress. That must have been… difficult.”“It wasn’t,” I said, though the words came out too flat.She watched me a little too long, then leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “You see, that’s what
Melody’s POV The murmurs faded when he arrived. Even without looking, I felt the hush that always followed max. He walked beside Gianna, with one hand at the small of her back as if the world itself needed reminding she was fragile. The gesture was practiced, gentle, and it made my chest ache in a way I didn’t expect. Gianna’s black veil brushed her cheeks when the wind shifted. She looked up at him, and he bent slightly, saying something only she could hear. Whatever it was drew a faint smile from her, and it made me feel so damn pissed off. I stayed where I was, just a few paces from the grave. The attendant hovered near me, ready to intervene if I so much as swayed. I didn’t. I watched instead, watched the way max’s coat moved, the way he refused to look in my direction even once. When the priest closed his book, people began to leave in small clusters. I waited until he and Gianna passed near. Her hand rested on his arm; their steps matched perfectly. “Max” My voice surpris
/–Melody–/I didn’t sleep. The lights stayed off, the hallway stayed quiet, but I kept my eyes open.The woman from dinner had said too much to be just another patient. She knew things, about this place, about how to move through it without making noise.The next morning, the knock came earlier than usual. Firm. Not the nurse. Not breakfast.“Melody,” came the voice. Calm. Male. Professional. “Please come with us.”I opened the door to find two orderlies flanking Dr. Halpern. She wore a different outfit today—dark green slacks, crisp white blouse. Hair pinned back neatly. Serious. Clinical.“This way,” she said.They didn’t speak as they led me down a hall I hadn’t been through before. White walls. No art. No windows. Just a sterile corridor that smelled like cold soap and resignation. I didn’t ask questions. Asking questions makes you look unstable.We entered a new room—larger, more formal. The walls weren’t padded. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. A long table stretched across t
/-Melody-/I couldn't believe that my own brother was trying to force me to go to a psychiatric hospital simply because he felt I was obsessed with him. So what if I was?That didn't mean I was crazy or anything. My head was working perfectly and if it wasn't, I wouldn't need anyone to tell me that.It was all because of that woman. That god-forsaken gutter bitch nobody he picked up from wherever. She was rhe one making him believe that everyone else was the problem when it was clearly her. It was more annoying that Maxmillian wouldn't want to hear me out. But it didn't matter. I was going to get out of here by all means necessary. All I had to do was pass their stupid evaluation and after that, I was very certain that he would hear me out. A soft knock on the door. Then it opened.A woman walked in. Lab coat. Clipboard. That smug, professional calm that all these therapists practiced in the mirror. Like they were doing God’s work. Her eyes scanned me like I was a case file before
/–Eric–/The prison gates swallowed us like a steel-jawed beast.It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the inside of a place like this, but it was the first time I looked like this walking in. Blood on my collar. One eye nearly swollen shut. Lip split wide open. Ribs cracked like dried twigs.The guards noticed. Of course, they did. They always do. But no one said a word, not at first.Lane walked two steps behind me, acting like he didn’t just beat the soul out of me in the middle of some abandoned shipping yard. The rookie kept his head down, barely speaking since we left the scene.The intake officer squinted at the bruises on my face. “Jesus. He fall down a flight of stairs on the way here?”Lane didn’t flinch. “Resisted arrest. Tried to run. Slipped during the takedown. Looked like he hit the pavement with his jaw.”The officer gave him a long look, then glanced back at me. “That true?”I could have said no, even though Lane didn't seem bothered about what my answer might be. It woul
/-Eric-/I should’ve known better than to expect a clean ride to booking.The cruiser veered off the main road twenty minutes ago, and we’d been cruising through what looked like the industrial back end of the city since. Broken warehouses. Abandoned loading docks. Not a streetlight in sight.Detective Lane hadn't said a word. Neither had the rookie. The only sound was the hum of the tires against the cracked asphalt.Then the car stopped.“Out,” Lane said, his voice flat.I cocked my head. “Don’t we usually do mugshots at the station?”He opened the door. “This isn’t about processing.”That got my attention.The rookie stepped out first, clearly jittery. Lane came around and opened my door himself. Rough hands yanked me out, and before I could say another word, I was slammed chest-first against the hood of the cruiser.“Is this the part where you tell me I’ve got the right to remain silent?” I sneered.Lane leaned in close, breath hot against my ear. “No. This is the part where we re







