November 2015
After dinner, I slowly walk back to my room.
The memory of telling Sinclair I was pregnant is seared into my mind. We were so happy. So hopeful. I glance down at my daughter. Evelyn was his. All this time she’s been his. So why wasn’t Sinclair happy to see her? Why didn’t he ask to hold her? Love on her?
Just when I take two steps forward toward uncovering my past, I end up having to take twenty steps back. So many times I’ve reminded myself that the bad has to happen in order for me to reach the good¸ that there’s light at the end of the tunnel if I look close enough.
Yet I can’t see that light anymore and I don’t think I ever will.
I’ve had enough of the memories. And of Fairfax.
Yet all my thoughts come to a screeching halt the minute I turn the corner. I’m a few steps away from my room, but I know something’s up. The nurses who normally linger in front of the nurses’ station are gone. A few patients are standing outside their rooms. A few form a little circle. Yet all of their eyes turn my way. A new girl turns away and starts to giggle when I look back at her.
Ignoring them and the warning bells ringing through my head, I hurry to my room. The door is open. Nurses are talking quietly among themselves. When they see me standing there, they step to the side and reveal Alice.
She smiles at me viciously and holds out a pile of pills. “Well, this is interesting.”
She steps closer. I take a step out into the hallway. Yet that’s not good enough; I feel like the walls are closing in around me, shrinking my chances of ever escaping this place. “This is at least six, almost seven weeks’ worth of pills.”
There’s no use in denying they’re mine. I stare at her solemnly, bracing myself for what she’s about to say next.
The rest of the nurses filter out of my room. Kate’s one of them. She doesn’t make eye contact with me.
Coward.
“Something like this doesn’t go unpunished.”
“My doctor isn’t here. You can’t do anything,” I point out.
“She may not be here but going against the rules has consequences.” Alice looks so sure. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“You can’t do anything,” I repeat.
Alice shakes her head and smiles. There’s nothing kind about that smile. “No, I can’t. But the doctor on shift can.” She holds her hands out. “Give me the baby, Victoria.”
Instinctively, I hold Evelyn closer. “No.”
“Give her to me.”
“No.”
Alice grabs on to Evelyn’s stomach and tugs. I hold on, slapping Alice’s hands away. But her grip is stronger than mine. She rips her away and holds my daughter close to her chest, as though it’s her baby. Not mine. The action wakes Evelyn up. She wails loudly in fear. Alice smiles.
The anger that overcomes me is unstoppable. I’m a force to be reckoned with. I can’t calm down even if I try. I lunge for Alice. For once she looks scared. Good. Even she should know that you never take a child away from her mother. It’s like poking a sleeping bear. You won’t like the results.
I hear raised voices around me. Someone grabs me around the waist, trying to pull me back. My hands are extended, fingers stretched, clawing at thin air.
Alice continues to hold my daughter.
My daughter.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this much rage before. It scares even me. “Give her back!” I scream.
More people are starting to come out of their rooms. I don’t care; I continue to yell at Alice, calling her every name in the book. It’s a small consolation that her smug grin slightly fades.
Someone’s hand covers my mouth. I bite down on her flesh. Someone cries out and instantly the hand is gone. Then they start dragging me down the hall. I resist. I fight with everything I have.
Alice follows behind me, like this is a funeral procession and she’s getting ready to give me my last rites.
“You can’t take her away from me!” I say. “You can’t do this!”
Yet even as I say those words, I’m doubtful. It’s nine o’clock. After hours. Dr. Calloway isn’t here. She can’t help me.
We turn the corner. Patient rooms are becoming sparse. I’ve been down this hallway before. It’s not a place you want to be at Fairfax. At the very end of the hall is the white room.
The on-call doctor runs up toward us. He’s so young he reminds me of Doogie Howser. He has no idea who I am and what my situation is. None of that works in my favor. But he does look frightened by me as his eyes jump from Alice to Kate.
I jump at my chance.
“Don’t let them take my daughter away,” I plead. “Please, just let me go back to my room. Please.”
He looks shocked.
“She’s been hiding her pills in the wall for weeks now,” Alice tells him.
“Shut up! Shut up! This doesn’t involve you,” I snap.
Doogie opens the door to the white room. I’ve never felt such blinding fear. It’s powerful enough to make me double over in pain.
I make one last plea. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it.” My voice goes down and even to my own ears I sound like a child begging for its parent not to hurt them. “Please don’t do it.”
Alice encourages him, tells him that I’m out of control. He gives me an apologetic look before he sticks the needle into my vein.
The drugs don’t kick in instantly. But it’s pretty damn close. Already I can feel my body become weightless. I know I should move my legs and try to resist, but I can’t think.
I feel light as a feather. In my mind, I see myself floating in the sky, slowly drifting toward the ground. The air dances across my skin. I stare up at the white ceiling. I smile and then I close my eyes.
The last thing I hear: “Fairfax is no place for a baby….”