Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Avery

The next morning I wake, sore all over, but feeling lighter than I have in weeks. It's short-lived though when I head to breakfast, noticing the guard by the door is on edge.

Immediately when I enter the hall, it's pure pandemonium. Everyone is on their feet, huddled in groups. The food at the end of the hall remains untouched, and to my left, I spot a few people crying.

What the fuck happened?

I don't pay proper attention as I try to make my way through the crowd, bumping into people. I accidentally collide with Siobhan's back, taking a step back when she turns around to snap at me.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," I mutter in confusion, eyes shifting to the girl next to her. I recognize her from my shower group—her strawberry blonde hair tied up in pigtails. She gives me a small, sympathetic smile. Of all the people I've met here, she's one of the most normal ones. I still remember how she was kind to me in the showers, helping me understand the routine.

"It's fine," she says softly, answering for Siobhan. "We're just a bit overwhelmed this morning."

"I'm not overwhelmed, Eliana!"

It's nice to finally put a name to the face, listening as Siobhan rambles to herself, cupping the sides of her head.

"What happened?" I ask Eliana, gazing around at the patients.

She opens her mouth to answer before she spots someone by the entrance, pausing in her tracks. I turn around to look, eyes narrowing as Mr. Whittingham strolls into the room, a guard on either side.

It's only when I notice a podium in the middle of the room that it dawns on me this must be something significant. He doesn't like making announcements unless they are important.

As he stands on the podium block, I observe the tightness in his jaw—the way his face is scrunched up in frustration.

"Morning all," he addresses through the microphone. The room falls silent, except for the sobs of a few people.

I frown—really worried now.

A burning sensation tickles my face and I instinctively look to the wall, finding Grey. He's standing next to Damon, and when he notices that I've finally spotted him, he gives me a small nod.

"As some of you are already aware, the facility staff have been notified of the passing of another fellow student," Mr. Whittingham says crisply.

My heart jolts in my chest, scanning Grey's and Damon's faces for their reaction. They hold blank expressions, and I look back to Whitface, trying to piece together who it is.

"Unfortunately, my staff found the body of Ms. Vivian Capello in her room this morning. Sadly, she took her own life."

I let out a small gasp, in disbelief. I don't believe it—Vivian seemed fine yesterday.

I guess it just goes to show that you never really know what someone is fighting. Maybe it's the ones who seem okay that we should be worried about.

Vivian tried to kill herself a few short weeks ago, but even she said it was a moment of weakness. Did she lie?

Was it because of our conversation? Did I push her over the edge?

"Our new psychiatrist has started today, so if anyone requires further support, both Dr. Smith and Dr. Elsher are happy to hold extra sessions today. In the meantime, classes are canceled for today and we are extending free time to allow you time to process the situation. Our hearts and prayers go out to Ms. Capello and her loved ones."

Stepping off the block, he pushes through the crowd to the door, vanishing just as quickly as the echo of his words.

As soon as the door closes behind him, the room erupts back into chaos, the sound deafening me.

" Again. Again. Again. Not again. No! Again. Fuck! " Siobhan mutters, shaking her head wildly.

I stare at her for a few seconds, remembering her brother's suicide, and that she's Vivian's room neighbor. If what they are saying is true and she did it in her room, it was right next door to Siobhan. My heart breaks for her.

Eliana gives me a sad smile, motioning that she's got Siobhan. I give her a small nod, weaving through the room until I get to Grey and Damon.

"What the fuck?" I breathe out.

Grey wraps his arm around me, pulling me against the wall with him. "I know."

My eyes shift to Damon, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. I can't tell if he already knew or if he's in the midst of processing it.

"Do we know what happened?" I ask them.

Damon looks at me, green eyes locking with mine. "Not yet. It's surprising."

"It is," I agree in a somber tone. "She wasn't suicidal yesterday. It doesn't make any sense."

"I agree," Damon replies, looking away to scan the crowd.

Really?

I half-expect them to tell me that these things happen at Lilydale. It's certainly not the first time—even disregarding Sam's assisted death. I know there was another loss before I started.

It's why I started.

"Does the society know anything about it?" I ask quietly.

This time, I'm not accusing them of anything. They are usually the first people to know what happens around here. Surely they would have seen activity on the camera feeds or been notified from the guards.

The society knows everything.

"I need to go chat to Jillian," Damon says, turning to Grey. "We'll have a few extra hours to look into this, but I've noticed there's a handful of new guards on duty."

Grey nods firmly. "Arthur is trying to keep control."

"Does that mean we won't be able to move around freely?" I chime in. "We need to look into this. Something doesn't sit well with me."

Damon glances over at me. "I agree with Avery. It's suspicious. We certainly didn't do anything, but that doesn't mean no one else did."

"Did Vivian have any enemies?" I ask hesitantly. "Why would anyone target her? She's just been keeping to herself."

"I don't know, babe," Grey answers. "But we'll find out. If we're not around at free time, stay close to Theo. I'll come find you when I can."

I nod, grimacing. "I have a psych session with the new doctor after breakfast."

Damon smirks slightly at me. "Sorry."

"No, you're not," I shoot back. "Though maybe it wasn't a bad idea to reduce poor Dr. Smith's workload—especially now."

"Please," Damon sneers. "Christopher lives for chaos like this. He'll be mad that he has to share."

Grey grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. "Let's go grab some breakfast before the bell rings. We'll keep you updated."

"Alright," I mutter, giving Damon a small smile before we head to the food. I notice him duck through the crowd, probably looking for Jillian and Byrone.

We'll get to the bottom of this, Vivian. I promise.

"Avery White."

I glance over the desk at the new psychiatrist, taking in his appearance. He's the complete opposite to Dr. Smith—in his mid-fifties, bald, dark blue eyes, and dressed in smart casual wear.

I've gotten so used to seeing the staff dressed in suits that Dr. Elsher's black button-down shirt and dark jeans have thrown me off.

"That's me," I murmur, shifting in my chair.

He glances over the manila file on his desk, scanning the papers briefly before flicking it closed. "Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?"

I shrug. "Not much to say really. It's all in the file."

"Fair enough," he says, exasperated. "Let me guess—you usually prefer silent appointments."

My eyebrows furrow. "Dr. Smith and I had a decent relationship and expectation with sessions. Aren't you going to ask me a bunch of questions about my feelings and shit?"

"I fear there's little point," Dr. Elsher shoots back. "I can already tell that you're not very cooperative."

Blinking at him in surprise, I decide that I already hate him. It's clear he doesn't give a shit about being here, let alone about us patients.

Folding my arms, I lean back in this chair. "Is that what Whittingham told you?" I ask heatedly. "That I'm not cooperative? A trouble-maker? Incurable?"

Dr. Elsher looks up lazily, unfazed. "Ms. White, I'm not under any false pretenses here. Lilydale Foundation Center is full of troubled youths—you're not special in that regard."

"I never said I was," I snap back angrily.

"Regardless, it's no secret that sessions here will be difficult to conduct. None of you are willingly seeking therapy for your issues. Due to the nature of your admission requirements and conditions, I'm certainly prepared for pushback, as it were."

My eyes narrow. "If you have that kind of attitude toward the patients, why bother working here at all?"

It crosses my mind for a brief second that perhaps there's a reason he was chosen. Obviously there would be—Alexander seems to do everything for a reason, just like Damon. I can't help but wonder if he's known to the Lilydale board or was just the best candidate that applied.

If he's the best… then I'll fuck a cactus because this guy is horrible. At least Dr. Smith pretends to give a shit… makes an effort somewhat.

"My employment is none of your business," he says casually, turning his chair to the side, gazing out the window. "However, when you decide you want actual help, let me know."

He falls silent, leaving me to gape at him. He's easily one of the worst staff members I've met in this place, which is no easy feat.

"The whole purpose of this facility," I start through clenched teeth. "Is to help rehabilitate us. Of course the patients here have mental health challenges. I'm sure you've read their files, and if you're a professional, you'll know that there's going to be pushback for reasons out of their control."

Dr. Elsher glances over his shoulder at me. "You speak on behalf of the collective, not yourself. I'm not going to waste my time being lectured by someone who struggles to grasp life in a rational fashion."

"What the fuck does that mean?" I spit out, nails digging into the chair.

He lifts an eyebrow. "I have read all the files, Ms. White—yours included. Admitted here due to murder charges pertaining to your father. Your mother committed suicide when you were a teenager. You've suffered several different types of abuse and have been formally diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and borderline personality disorder. However, despite taking up a place in this facility, which as you pointed out serves as a rehabilitation center, you have no desire to actually change."

I take a few seconds to compose myself. "You've sat here and spoken to me for all of five minutes. You don't know anything about me."

"But I have the file ," he taunts, tapping his fingers on the folder. "I know everything about you."

"No, you don't," I argue back, keeping my voice level. "You know my mental illnesses and my history. Absolutely none of that depicts who I am as a person. At the moment, you only have a biased perspective from Mr. Whittingham—who, I might add, has just spent his days torturing me. Other than that, all you can do is draw inferences from the information in that file."

Dr. Elsher smiles at me—but it's not a warm one. "From the moment you entered this room, I could tell what type of person you are. I don't need outside information to see that. However, unfortunately, your history and mental illnesses do make the person you are."

"No they fucking don't," I say. "I have mental illness. I'm not mental illness . I'm worth more than what you paint me as psychologically."

"Ms. White?"

"What?"

"Be sure to close the door on the way out. I'll have the guard escort you to your room for the remainder of the session."

"What the hell are you rambling on about?"

I stop pacing, swinging around to face the doorway. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear the door open or notice Damon standing there until he spoke.

"The new psychiatrist," I spit out. "He's a fucking asshole."

Damon steps into the room, looking around casually. "So I've heard. You're not the first to share these thoughts."

"Do you know him?" I ask, somewhat aggressively.

He peers down at me with a blank expression. "William Elsher? No—I don't. He's not a relative, if that's what you're asking."

Somehow, this information calms me down a little bit. "Good. Because I think he might be an even bigger asshole than you," I mutter.

Damon smiles at me, obviously amused at my thoughts of him. "Seems impossible, but thank you."

Taking a breath, I relax, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Anyway, what did we find out?"

"Not much yet. Jillian is checking the feed. I need to go investigate something else, but unfortunately Grey is with Leighton sorting something out. I need you to come with me."

I nod, standing back up. "Now?"

"Yes, free time has just started. Time to head downstairs."