“Ok,” she whispers and doesn’t question me further. Instead, she lifts her head and her hair dangles onto my belly. “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” she asks.
“Anywhere with you,” I answer, and that’s the truth.
She hesitates. “Are you sure? They say I’m crazy.”
“But you’re not.”
“I agree,” she says. “Sometimes. But other times, I feel like I might be.”
“You just miss your brother,” I tell her. “You miss Finn.”
She swallows hard at the mention of his name, and I regret bringing him up. “It’ll be ok,” I add. “It’ll all be ok.”
I sneak back to my room before breakfast, and when the sun is shining, I find her in the cafeteria. She’s shoving her food around on her plate, her wrist slender. I sit next to her, shoulder to shoulder.
“Miss Price?” A nurse stops beside us. “It’s time for your medication.”
Calla eyes the tray. “There’s new ones,” she points out, looking at the colorful pills.
“Doctor’s orders.”
Calla nods and obediently puts them in her mouth. She swallows, then opens her mouth for the nurse to check. The nurse nods, and walks away.
Calla spits them into her napkin.
I grin. “Nice.”
She shrugs. “I’m not taking those.”
“Good girl.”
We’re co-conspirators now, reveling in our cleverness. The nurse doesn’t stop by me, because I don’t receive medication.
We eat, we stroll outside, we attend our group sessions.
I loathe this place, and I count the days. I am certain, as I told Calla, that we won’t be here long. We don’t belong here, because we’re not crazy. Karma doesn’t hold prisoners against their will.
Not if they’re undeserving.
“Do you believe in Karma?” I ask Calla as we walk. She bends to sniff a flower.
“I guess. She brought me you.”
“She?”
“Karma is obviously a woman.”
I chuckle and Calla stops in her tracks. She stares at me, her big blue eyes serious.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
She pulls at my fingers, fidgeting.
“I love you.”
She says it like she’s admitting something.