Prologue

LAKE CITY STATE HOSPITAL LAKE CITY, NC A brANCH OF THE DOROTHEA DIX HOSPITAL JULY 1947

"Is she coming today?" Eliza Crane asked the nurse standing just inside the small room. Her name was Nurse Alice. Nurse Alice with no last name. She wore a white uniform with a white hat, white stockings, and white shoes. Her expression was just as pale, and she looked every one of her confessed forty-three years—especially sporting that gray streak down the side of her otherwise dark hair. There was no kindness in her green eyes, but no malice either. More of a weariness that Eliza could relate to. "Please, is Betsy coming today?"

Eliza sat on the hospital bed, her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest to ward off the chill of the room in spite of it being a bright summer July day. When was the last time she'd been warm? She couldn't remember.

"Not sure, Eliza," the woman said, planting her hands on her hips. "If she does, I'll come get you."

"Can you ring her and tell her I need her to come? She's only been allowed to come once and I need to see her."

"The phone lines are down, but you have an appointment with the new doctor in an hour, so you need to get dressed and make yourself presentable." She waved to the garments thrown over the changing screen in the corner.

"New doctor?" Eliza shook her head, still in shock that her long dark brown curls were no longer there. They had been chopped off to make the lice easier to get rid of. Leave it to her to be stuck with a licey roommate her first night in this miserable place. Thankfully, the woman had been removed on her second day and no one had taken her place. "No. I don't want to see a doctor, I want to go home." But as soon as the words left her lips, her heart cried a denial. She did not want to go home.

But she didn't want to stay here either. She walked to the changing screen, pulled the clothes down, and began to dress. Why did the thought of home fill her with such dread? And where was William? As her fiancé, shouldn't he be allowed to see her? But he hadn't come. At least no one had told her he had.

"That's not possible," Nurse Alice said. "Dr. King's reviewing your chart as we speak, so get ready."

"I thought the doctor's name was Rinaldo." The one she'd been scheduled to see, but her appointment had been cancelled.

"It was, but he had a heart attack and died the day after you got here. I can't believe they found a new doctor so quickly. They're not exactly lined up to work here, you know." Her matter-of-fact words weren't mean; she was just overworked like everyone else in the overcrowded mental hospital.

Eliza still wasn't sure how she'd wound up here. The first few days were fuzzy, the itchy lice incident more clear than anything else. Today, her mind seemed to be working despite the pain in her head. She rubbed the knot on the side of it, wondering how she'd gotten it. Then she glanced at the bandages on her wrists. She'd taken a pair of shears and ... and what? Why couldn't she remember what happened next? The pain in her head increased.

"Eliza. Come on!"

Eliza bit her lip on a whimper and stepped around the screen. "I don't want to be here."

Alice sighed, a glint of pity showing for the first time in her gaze. "Your father put you here for a reason. The only way you'll get to go home is if you get better."

"But, what's wrong with me?" she whispered.

"You tried to kill yourself. That's what's wrong with you, and the doctor needs to determine if you're still a danger to yourself."

Eliza blinked. She'd tried to kill herself? Why? An argument echoed in the recesses of her mind—raised voices, harsh demands. She pressed her hands over her ears and focused, but she couldn't quite grasp the topic of the shouting match and pull it forward. "I didn't. I wouldn't."

"But you did." Finally her face softened a little more. "You'll like Dr. King. He's very forward thinking when it comes to ways to help patients like you. He likes to talk a lot, ask questions, and get to know you. He said patients need to know that someone is not only listening but hearing."

Well, that didn't sound so bad.

"Who was screaming all night long? Such wretched screaming. My ears are still ringing with it."

"It's just the way of this place. You'll learn to ignore it." Nurse Alice snagged a cup from the cart just outside the door, and Eliza let the memory—and the screaming—go. The woman thrust the cup with two little pills at her, along with another matching cup that held about two ounces of water. "Swallow."

Eliza did as told. She really did want to get better, and her father promised her this place would help her. But ... better from what? And she didn't trust her father anymore. She hadn't for a long time. So—

"I have two more patients to see," Nurse Alice said. "Be ready when I get back." And then she was gone, the door snicking locked behind her.

Tears leaked from Eliza's eyes. She was only twenty-two. She'd barely begun to live and already it felt like her life was over. She looked at her wrists once more. They didn't hurt any longer and she decided one of the pills must be some kind of painkiller. Probably the one that made her want to sleep the hours away. She frowned. Why give her that before her meeting with the doctor? It was going to be all she could do to stay awake.

With a sigh, she lifted the mattress and pulled out her journal along with the ink pen Betsy had managed to sneak her. If Nurse Alice found the pen, she'd take it. Because if Eliza truly wanted to kill herself, she could find a way to do so with the writing instrument.

But Eliza didn't want to die. She wanted to live. She desperately wanted to live. She pressed the pen to the paper and wrote until the door rattled when a key slid into the lock. Pushing the haze of the drugs aside, she stuffed the book and pen back into her hiding place, then slipped into her black slippers just as Alice stepped inside.

"The dose of pain medicine was lower this time so you wouldn't be so sleepy. Can you walk?"

So that's why she'd been able to form coherent sentences for her journal. "Yes. I think so."

"Then let's go. Dr. King is reported to be kind but can't abide tardiness."

"I'm ready when you are."