CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Confession Dr. Binet and Brianne . . .
I cannot believe they have me in this shithole. After my session with the court-appointed therapist, I was placed in a hospital. How is this even legal or possible? Mr. Scardingo is on his way up here now. There’s no way that they can expect me to stay here. I’ve probably counseled most of the patients here. These morons have the nerve to have me in a separate part of the facility. I know my rights; this unlawful imprisonment is illegal.
“Good day, Brianne,” Mr. Scardingo says as he enters my little cell.
“You’re late, Jeffrey.” I roll my eyes.
“My apologies. I got held up in court today. But I have some good news for you.”
“That’s what you get paid handsomely for. Do tell.” My mouth twitches as I try to fight a smile from forming.
“The court-appointed therapist found you to be mentally ill, too ill to stand trial or appear in court. He recommends you undergo competency restoration, meaning you take antipsychotic medication and attend therapy to stabilize you enough so that you’re able to stand trial. On average, this process takes about three months. Which means you won’t have to sit in a jail cell until the court proceedings.”
The smile on my face dries faster than superglue. “Are you kidding me? I’m no rookie. I know how all this works. The courts send hundreds of people to mental hospitals. I am a member of the team that diagnosed these people and helped get them off. I don’t need a drill. I create and implement the drills.”
“I understand all of that. If that is the case, then you’re aware that by the time this makes it to court, you’ll more than likely have already spent more time locked away than the crime deserves.”
“Tell me this, Mr. Know-It-All. What happens if you fail at this and I am declared mentally fit?”
“The charge—”
“Don’t bother to answer. I already know what would happen. They’ll send me straight to jail,” I say.
“I can assure you that will not happen. I will not fail.”
“You’re also the same person who came in here thinking he had good news.”
Think, Brianne. Think fast. You need them to declare you mentally ill and unstable. You already know how to beat those charges and resume your normal life. You’ll be practicing and seeing patients in no time.
“Listen, Brianne. I understand you know the process. However, as your attorney, I can assure you this is a good thing. Do you understand? Brianne?”
It’s showtime, Brianne.
After repositioning myself, I sit silently, motionless. Mr. Scardingo repeatedly shouts my name. I gaze into the far distance, at an imaginary fixture in front of me. Then I release all the pent-up hysteria and let loose in a fit of choking and sobbing, a fit so powerful in its intensity that it shakes my body violently.
“Would you like me to get someone? Are you all right? Brianne?” He begins to panic. He jumps to his feet and steps over to the door. “Guard? Someone, please come and help her,” he calls.
“Tiny robots have been implanted under my skin to control me. I was going the extra mile for my patient. That’s what real doctors do.”
He looks back at me. “What are you saying, Brianne? You’re not making sense.” He turns his attention back to the door. A guard is now standing on the other side of it. “I apologize. Never mind,” he says, dismissing the guard.
“It was a form of final humiliation. She humiliated me at the funeral. I mean my patient, and I did what any doctor would do.”
“Who is she, and what are you speaking of, Brianne?”
“I made sure Sienna . . . I mean Sage . . . was asleep. The girls stayed in the other hotel room. It gave me the perfect alibi.”
“Alibi?”
“Please just hear me out. Everything that I have done has been for the recovery and healing of my patients. I hadn’t planned to hurt Terianne. When I attacked her, she didn’t look like the person I met the day before. I saw Chuck. She was no longer a woman. It was Chuck.
“After putting Sienna . . . Sage . . . to bed, I got into the car and drove over to my house. I couldn’t find my key, so I knocked on the door, hoping Mason was home. His car wasn’t outside, and there was another car out front, which I didn’t recognize. In any event, I knocked, and an almost familiar voice that I’d heard before invited me in. When I stepped inside, I didn’t see anyone, and I made my way to the kitchen area, where noise was coming from. Then I saw her . . . him, and she said, ‘What are you doing here? Aren’t you Simone’s friend?’ And I said, ‘How do you know Simone, Chuck?’ Well, she stared at me like she had no idea what I was talking about, and then she said, ‘Who is Chuck? Get out of here, before I call the police.’
“I yelled, ‘You raped me, you bastard,’ and I grabbed the knife off the cake dish on the counter. Using all my might, I swung and connected with him until he lost his balance. Once he did, I made sure to stab him in the neck, knowing that’d stop him from existing. Noticing I’d accomplished the task at hand, I ran upstairs and found a dress. I ran back downstairs with it, then removed his garments and dressed him in the black sequin dress. After turning him over, I cut holes in the back of the dress, exposing his buttocks. That was the final and ultimate humiliation for him after what he’d done to me. But as I was admiring my work, I no longer saw Chuck. Terianne was lying lifeless on the floor.
“It dawned on me at that moment, the only way I was able to assist my patient with finding closure was to make the abusers pay for their sins.”