The elevator chimed loudly. The heavy metal doors groaned and began to slide apart.
Maya stepped forward, pulling Chloe with her.
But the elevator wasn't empty.
Standing in the center of the large metal car was Eleanor Vance.
She wore an immaculate beige trench coat, her silver hair perfectly coiffed, a pearl necklace resting against her collarbone. She looked like a wealthy, concerned grandmother.
But her eyes were ice.
Flanking her were two massive hospital security guards in dark uniforms.
Maya froze. Chloe let out a tiny gasp and hid her face against Maya’s leg.
Eleanor stepped slowly out of the elevator, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading across her face.
"Oh, Maya, darling," Eleanor cooed, her voice dripping with fake pity. "Look at you. Wandering the halls in a gown, dragging my poor granddaughter through the dirt. You’re having another one of your episodes."
Maya backed up, but there was nowhere to go. The narrow hallway offered no escape.
"You did this," Maya said, her voice shaking with rage.
Eleanor turned to the security guards, feigning a look of tragic sorrow. "You see? The paranoia is getting worse. She needs help. Please, gentlemen. Restrain her gently. It’s for her own good."
The two guards stepped forward, raising their hands toward Maya.
Chapter 3: The Diagnosis
“Don’t touch me,” Maya said.
Her voice wasn’t a frantic scream. It wasn’t the hysterical cry of a delusional patient. It was cold, sharp, and laced with absolute authority. The sheer confidence in her tone made the two security guards hesitate, their hands hovering in the air.
“Maya, sweetheart, you’re sick,” Eleanor said, taking another step forward. She kept her tone gentle, performing for the guards. “We’re just trying to get you the care David would have wanted you to have. You’re clearly not in your right mind.”
“I’m in my right mind,” Maya said, standing tall despite the thin hospital gown and bare feet. She placed Chloe firmly behind her back. “And I know exactly what you paid Dr. Evans to do.”
Eleanor’s pleasant smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a tiny crack in her perfect porcelain mask. She quickly recovered, looking at the guards with a theatrical sigh.
“She’s hallucinating again. Please, take her back to her room before she hurts the child.”
One of the guards reached out, wrapping a thick hand around Maya’s upper arm.
Before he could pull her forward, the door at the far end of the maintenance hall burst open. Dr. Evans marched through, his face flushed with anger, followed by two more nurses.
“There she is!” Dr. Evans barked, pointing at Maya. “What are you waiting for? Secure the patient! Administer five milligrams of Haldol, immediately!”
The guard tightened his grip on Maya’s arm.