ASYLUMS AND MADHOUSES

I woke up slowly, taking a moment to register where I was. Oh, right—I’d married Gabe Clifford, a gorgeous man with the most stunning blue eyes I’d ever seen. And on our wedding night, he’d bolted, leaving me to dream about the passionate night that never happened. 

I glanced to the side and spotted the framed photo of Jorel Clifford and me, smiling happily on a cruise. 

“It could’ve been us, couldn’t it, younger Clifford brother?” I murmured, tracing his face with its dazzling smile. “I bet we would’ve hit it off. I promise I’ll try not to hate your brother. I swore to myself I’d never wish harm on anyone after escaping hell. And God heard me—He brought me to my father’s house. I can’t break that vow.” 

I stretched, my eyes catching the ring on my finger. I slipped it off, squinting to read the inscription inside. Just to be sure, I popped in my contacts and confirmed it was Gabe I’d married, but the ring bore his brother’s name. Weird. But if my husband didn’t care, why should I? 

Maybe Gabe would propose an open marriage. Would I accept if he did? I wasn’t sure. I’d need to think it over. And if he was thinking of that kind of freedom, would that mean I could hook up with Jorel? 

I stretched again, in no rush, checked my glucose—too high—and headed downstairs to inject my insulin and grab breakfast. To my surprise, someone was in the kitchen: a woman, about 50, in a black uniform. 

“Are you the cook?” I asked, opening the fridge to grab my insulin pen. “I’m Olívia, Gabe’s wife.” 

“I’m the housekeeper,” she said with a smile. “No cook here. When there’s a dinner or lunch, which is rare, Mr. Clifford hires some famous chef.” 

“And who buys the food?” 

“I… don’t know, Mrs. Clifford.” 

“Call me Olívia. I’m not used to this last name yet. We got married yesterday.” I explained, lifting my shirt to inject insulin into my stomach. 

“Does that… hurt?” 

“Nah, I’m used to it.” I smiled, trying to put her at ease. 

I rummaged through the drawers—almost nothing to eat. 

“I think my husband wants me to starve,” I sighed, frustrated. “I need to eat every three hours, specific stuff. Gabe didn’t think about that. But I get it—he’s a busy guy. How would he have time to worry about my diabetes?” 

The woman frowned. 

“Can I clean your suite?” 

I grabbed a pack of oats and checked the expiration date—two months past due. Into the trash it went. 

“I’m in the first room up the stairs,” I said, opening another cupboard, starving. “You can clean there. I just got here, so it’s not too messy. Gabe didn’t sleep at home, so his room doesn’t need cleaning.” 

I thought she might ask something, but she didn’t. As she started to leave, I called out, “Where’s the gym?” 

“Gym?” She furrowed her brow. “What gym?” 

“You know, where people work out!” I mimed, flailing my arms and legs dramatically. 

“There’s no gym here, Mrs. Clifford.” 

“No way!” 

“No… is there?” She raised an eyebrow, confused. 

I took a deep breath. 

“I’m screwed. No food, no gym. And in the end, no husband either. You know, I’m not even sure if I like being alone!” 

“If you need anything, I’m in the first room where you slept.” 

She left, and I resigned myself to the fact that there was nothing to eat. I opened the last yogurt and drank it, knowing I couldn’t head to college on an empty stomach. 

If Gabe thought he’d starve me out, he was dead wrong. I’d survived days without food before, but with my condition, that wasn’t an option anymore. 

No gym, no exercise. 

I stepped outside to check out the Clifford mansion’s garden. It wasn’t much of a garden—more like a forest with no trees. I’d never been one for manicured ornamental plants. I liked the big, rugged ones, the kind that grew wild without being planted for show. 

Everything on this property was meticulously planned. I looked up at the blue sky, dotted with clouds like cotton balls, and wondered if they’d been bought to complete the estate’s aesthetic. 

I wandered the grounds all morning and still didn’t see everything. I needed to exercise somehow, so I made it productive. There really was no gym, not even an outdoor one. There was a golf course way in the back, but I didn’t check it out—I was afraid of being late for class. 

I took a quick shower and headed to college. Luckily, there was a driver to take me wherever I needed. The car wasn’t anything like Gabe’s, but at least I didn’t have to walk. 

@olívia_ Hey @isabelle, my little coconut candy. 

@isabelle_ Why haven’t you come to visit us? 

@olívia_ I left home yesterday! 

@rita_ Damn time zone. I’m sleeping! 

@isabelle_ Do you do anything besides sleep, @rita? You should star in a pillow commercial. 

@rita_ left 

@olívia_ Sweetie, can you send me some cash for a snack? 

@isabelle_ You’re married to one of the richest guys in the world and don’t have snack money? 

@olívia_ Must be a separate property thing. 

@isabelle_ That jerk can’t let you starve. 

@olívia_ Don’t make a scene, just send the money. 

@isabelle_ Only if you tell me how it was sleeping with him! 

@olívia_ Drop dead without knowing! You’re 13. If your mom sees your phone, she’ll kill me. 

@isabelle_ She’ll kill you even if she doesn’t see it lol 

@olívia_ If you don’t send the money, I’ll ask Rita. 

@isabelle_ Fine, I’ll lend it. Sending now. 

@olívia_ Thanks. Love you. 

@isabelle_ Can I come see your house? 

@olívia_ left 

I had to eat at the college cafeteria with the money my little sister sent. I needed my balanced meals, my exercise! 

I swiped my card at the gate to get into class, but it beeped, denying access. I tried several times—nothing. I rushed to the registrar’s office, desperate not to miss class. 

“Good afternoon, my card isn’t working at the gate,” I told the secretary. 

She took my card and checked her computer. 

“Mrs. Abertton, your access card’s been deactivated. Your tuition hasn’t been paid in six months. You need to settle the balance to attend classes. We’ve sent multiple notices to the payer.” 

“Got it… thanks.” 

I had to surrender my card. The driver was already gone, with a pickup time set for late afternoon, and I didn’t even have his number. 

I called my dad. 

“Why didn’t you answer, sweetheart? I called you a bunch of times!” 

“Dad, I got married yesterday! I need some time to enjoy my new husband!” I tried not to worry him. 

“Please don’t try to convince me Gabe Clifford was kind to you, because I know you’re lying.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Come home. What could be worse? We’ve already lost everything.” 

“You’ve got a roof over your head… and furniture.” 

“But we don’t have you.” 

I sighed but tried to sound upbeat. 

“I bet Gabe will give up whatever he’s doing to punish you soon.” 

“I’ve tried everything to figure out what I did, but I haven’t got a clue. He’s a Clifford. If I’d done something to hurt him, I’d know.”