My stomach turns at the sympathetic look on her face. It’s the first time she’s looked human and not like some doctor robot hell-bent on keeping me here. “There was nothing there at all. You may not remember, but the police, or your doctor, explained this to you. There wasn’t even a hole in the ground that was dug up. Just a shovel that must’ve flown out of the back of your trunk when the car rolled.”
My bottom lip trembles at the unfairness. How could they have cleaned everything up so fast? What’s even more worrisome is now, now I’m starting to question everything about that night. Did I…did I imagine it all? I’d been so sleep-deprived after the whole Baz situation. Could I have imagined it? What if it all was some sick dream?
I quickly put a cap on those thoughts. There’s no way. I know I was there. I dug that fucking hole. I held that shirt. I felt Madison pull me out of the car that night. There’s no other explanation.
“No. That’s not right. That can’t be. I was there that night. I dug a goddamn hole in the earth. Check under my nails for dirt!” I thrust my hands out toward her. She looks down, then back up, then back down to her notepad.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Mackenzie. Things don’t look good for you right now. To enforcement officials, it looks like you followed Mr. Hawthorne and drove your rental car off a cliff. His statement says you tried to kill him. He mentioned his close friend recently broke up with you, and that you had become angry and jealous. You thought it was his fault, so you wanted to take matters into your own hands.”
I blink, stupefied by how easy it was for him to flip the script. He probably didn’t think I’d actually survive after leaving me there, so he figured I wouldn’t be able to stand up for myself. One by one, tears of disbelief stream down my face as she goes on.
I can’t believe this is happening.
I can’t believe he has everyone fooled.
I can’t believe he’s turning everything around on me. It’s happening all over again, just like it did nine years ago.
Sniffing back the tears, I feel my chin quivering as I try to steady my voice. “That wasn’t what happened. I didn’t set out to hurt Vincent. He followed me. He admitted to killing my sister, then he stabbed me. He stabbed me and left me for dead in that car.”
“In his own words, he said he did it?”
My eyes slam shut as I replay what he said. More tears fall as I think about the huge part Baz held in everything that happened that summer. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it. To say he did it, too. They killed her together, but I don’t.
“Yes. He told me he killed her just before he stabbed me and fled. I don’t…I don’t remember much of what happened after that. If it wasn’t for—”
I stop, cutting myself off. Talking about Madison and how she saved me is what led me in here in the first place, so talking about it again isn’t such a good idea.
“If it wasn’t for who?” she asks with too much interest in her voice. She leans forward on her chair as if she’s trying to get closer to me, a closer look at my mind. “Your sister?” she prompts at my fearful silence.
I scrape a frustrated hand down my face, trying to hold back the impending sob of desperation. “I know it sounds crazy, but she got me out of there. The car was literally going to roll down the cliff if she hadn’t helped me.” I implore her with my eyes to understand.
The doctor finally sets her notebook down on the clipboard, seemingly done with her notes. For now, at least.
“Okay.” She sighs. “I’m going to tell you what I think happened. Then we’ll talk about your injuries, why you’re here, and what we do now. I personally think there was bad blood between you and Mr. Hawthorne. I think you went into the woods that night with ill intentions. Whether you followed him, he followed you, whatever you were there for, you were going to make him pay in some way, were you not?”
I don’t say a word because even though her theory is wrong, she has one thing right. Once I had what I needed, I was going to make them pay. By whatever means necessary. I look away from her, not wanting her to the read the truth in my eyes.
“And you want to know what else I think? I don’t believe you lost control. I think you drove off that cliff. I think you’d just had your heart broken, and this was the only way out for you. And because he was there, you took it out on him, too.”
I grit my teeth, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.
“You had a ruptured spleen. Severe blood loss from the wound in your abdomen, plenty of broken bones, and a concussion.” She jerks his chin toward my battered and casted body on the bed, and I glance away. “The doctor placed you in a medically induced coma for a week. The paramedics found you in the dirt, bleeding out. Any later and your chances of living would’ve been slim. You arrived at our facility a few days ago, and you’ve been in and out of sleep, which is to be expected after what happened. And listen, you were banged around, pitched at a tremendous velocity, and then jolted to a stop. Your body isn’t going to be kind to you during this healing process. It’s going to be painful and slow. A traumatic brain injury is also something we need to worry about. It’s invisible to most of our measuring tools, so I can’t tell you with any certainty that you’ll one day wake up as good as new, but we can make the best of it. We can try.
“And I know you believe your sister saved you, and as hard as it is to believe in your condition you could get out of that car, I think either Vincent dragged you out, or you did it yourself. Whatever it was, it’s a miracle you’re alive, and maybe this is a second chance for you. You can turn your life around, Mackenzie.”
I avoid looking at her, and I bite my tongue. There are so many things I want to say. I want to refute her. I want to yell and tell her she’s wrong about all of it, but I don’t do any of those things. I just sit and listen.
“Now, let’s talk about what’s happening. Vincent Hawthorne has accused you of attempted murder and stalking. Law enforcement is also looking into a break-in at one of his friend’s homes in the Hidden Hills. They’re checking for fingerprints, anything that can lead back to you, and with everything else, if it somehow is linked back to you, it might be in your best interest to stay here.” I gnash my teeth together. My good hand fists into the sheets. “I know you’re angry. And I know this is the last place you want to be right now, but I do believe it’s in your best interest to stay here. Your parents have signed papers, stating you’re a mental health crisis. Do you understand what that means?”
I purse my lips, still refusing to look at her.
“It means that even though you are an adult, you are placed under their care until the state deems you healthy enough to be on your own and in your own right mind. When we start to see some progress, we can discuss potential release dates, but as of right now? I think you need help, Mackenzie. There’s nothing wrong with getting help. After everything you’ve been through in your life, your time here can do you wonders.”
A hot tear slides down my cheek, and I swipe at it angrily. I still haven’t said a word. Because what can I say? They think I’m crazy. End of story. They think I’m lying. That I tried to hurt him, and once again, the Savages are going to get away with it all.