Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Being with him—and they were together all the time now, except when either of them had individual therapies—made her a happier, healthier person. Or possibly it was just that instead of a few broken hours of sleep each night, she was getting a full seven or eight hours of blissful, unbroken slumber. Even her fugue states got better. She still had them, but they lasted only a few seconds to a minute now, instead of hours at a time.
The staff took notice of the change in her and Mazy started calling her “Miss Sunshine,” grinning as she did so. Some of the orderlies were nicer to her and some simply frowned, wondering what could have made the change when there was no medication involved, since Torri continued to refuse her meds morning and evening.
Even Dr. Burrows noticed the change.
“Well, Torri,” he said, giving her a speculative look, at the end of the first week of her friendship with Vic. “You certainly seem to be showing some improvement. I’ve heard from the staff that you haven’t had a night terror in almost a week now.”
“That’s true. My blank-outs during the day—the fugue states—have gotten a lot shorter, too,” Torri said proudly. “I’m feeling much better, Dr. Burrows—I think I’ll be ready to go home soon,” she added hopefully.
“Well, we’ll see about that,” he murmured, frowning at her speculatively. “I think your husband ought to be involved in that decision, don’t you?”
“I don’t know if he should or not,” Torri replied, lifting her chin. “He hasn’t been to visit me in months and he never returns my phone calls now. Why should he have a say in what’s happening to me when he’s basically checked out of my life?”
“That’s not good, Torri.” Dr. Burrows frowned. “You’ll need a support system if you leave St. Elizabeth’s. And have you considered that your husband doesn’t want to talk to you because of the beliefs you espoused the last time you talked to him?” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers on his desk. “Do you still believe that extraterrestrials are targeting the Earth?”
“Oh, no,” Torri said quickly. “Of course not!”
To be honest, now that she had stopped having the horrible night terrors and the fugue states had gotten so much shorter and easier to ignore, she had begun having doubts in her once unshakable certainty that the aliens were coming to attack Earth. Maybe it wasn’t the Seeing Dreams after all. Maybe it was just sleep deprivation that had caused all those visions in her head.
But no matter what she truly believed, she was certainly not going to tell Burrows anything but what he wanted to hear.
“I think I was just so sleep deprived, my brain was playing tricks on me,” she said, smiling brightly. “But I feel so much better now, Dr. Burrows. I really think I could get back to my old life.”
“Could you though?” He arched a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’ve just told me you’re no longer on speaking terms with your husband. And is your job waiting for you? After three months away, don’t you think they will have filled your position?”
Torri frowned at him.
“Are you trying to discourage me from getting out of here? Don’t you want your patients to recover and go back to their normal lives? I would have thought you’d be happy that I’m getting better.”
“Naturally I would be happy, if I believed that to be true.” Dr. Burrows shifted in his chair and frowned. “However, I think it would be wise to keep you a bit longer, Torri. We don’t want to let you go back to your outside life too quickly—you might suffer a relapse.”
Torri stared at him.
He really doesn’t want to let me out of here for some reason. Why is he holding me?
She had accused him of insurance fraud during their last session—not because she really thought it was a possibility, but just because she was so angry. Now, she wondered.
“Look, Dr. Burrows,” she said evenly. “You got me in here to start with by promising me I would just stay for an overnight observation. Then it was a week—then a month. Now I’ve wasted three months of my life that I can never get back.”
“I wouldn’t say wasted.” His frown deepened. “Taking time to heal is never wasting time.”
“But you’re not doing anything for me, here,” Torri protested. “You’re not healing me.”
“Clearly we are. The therapy—”
“The therapy is not the reason I’m getting better,” Torri said flatly. “And you know I’m not taking the medication you keep pushing on me.” She leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “Dr. Burrows, there’s no one else to advocate for me since my husband has checked out of the situation, so I have to advocate for myself—I want out of here.”
He frowned and shifted in his chair again and Torri got the idea he was extremely uncomfortable. Obviously he wasn’t used to patients—especially women—standing up for themselves.