But not today.

When she walked out of the park she made a right. Taking a left would lead to her house, but she needed more time before returning to her personal prison.

Three blocks up she waited on the corner to cross the street. Her mind was on other things when someone called, “Judith.”

She cowered and scanned her immediate surroundings, flinching her first reaction. A woman waved her hand from the other corner. At first she checked behind her, then when she saw the woman walking toward her it clicked. “Nurse Lacy? I didn’t recognize you out of uniform.”

Lacy laughed. “I get that sometimes. But yeah,” she said, shrugging, “they let me out of that place every once in a while.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she clasped her hand over it. Lowering it again, she took hold of Jude’s arm gently. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry. I knew what you meant.”

Lacy looked concern. “Have you been crying?”

“Feels like my whole life.” The words reminded her of Hazel and how he told his parents that very same thing the day they met.

When Jude’s eyes started to water, Lacy wrapped her arm in Jude’s and declared, “You look like you can use a friend. We’re going for coffee.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me. Coffee is on me.”

Jude didn’t know what to think of this young nurse. On one hand, she instantly liked her and was drawn to her joy. On the other hand, she was suppressing the fear bubbling inside her from seeing someone from Bleekman’s. “I’m not sure that’s allowed. Patients and nurses hanging out? Sure-fire way to get in trouble.”

She put her finger to her mouth, and said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” She continued with pep in her step and practically dragged Jude down the street until they came to a French bistro that opened to a patio out back. They were seated at a small round table. Lacy continued to smile at Jude while she placed her napkin in her lap. “How are you? I know that’s a broad question, but I’ve been worried ever since you left the center.”

“I was more worried being there, personally.”

“I’m sorry you had such a bad experience.” She leaned in and whispered, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve wanted to for a long time—”

“What shouldn’t you tell me?” Jude was direct, the hair on her arms rising as her nerves started twisting in her stomach.

“I’ve researched your case and tried to talk to Dr. Conroy on your behalf. But they seem set on the early tests they did years ago on you.” Her eyes shifted left, then right, before centering back on Jude. “I think there was a misdiagnosis when you were first admitted.”

Jude smiled. “If their tests are wrong, what do you think is wrong with me?”

The waiter walked up and took their drink order as well as handed them menus. They quickly looked it over and Jude ordered a chocolate croissant. Lacy ordered the bread pudding, then when they were alone again, she said, “I don’t think you’re insane, or unstable, or crazy, like they say, like your chart says.”

“Then what am I?”

“You tell me, Judith.”

The ladies held their gaze until the waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down in front of them. “I’m not crazy. The drugs make me crazy. They fog my brain.” Lacy nodded in understanding as Jude continued, “Sometimes I wish I was crazy so I didn’t care so much, so I could escape this reality once and for all.”

Reaching across the table, Lacy covered Jude’s hand with her own. The gesture was reassuring and Jude felt more and more comfortable with her. Lacy confessed, “I can find another job, but I feel like my patients need me there. For some, I’m their only advocate. I can be one for you as well if you tell me what’s wrong.”

She hesitated, not used to opening up, much less to someone who worked at her own personal hell, but something in Lacy’s eyes—maybe the sympathetic kindness she saw—made her trust the nurse. “My marriage was annulled and we’re no longer together.”

“What?” she asked, dropping back. “How can that be? That’s not possible. I thought—”

“You thought what?” Jude asked, curious to hear her thoughts.

“I could tell how much you loved each other. I could tell how much he loved you.”

“My family didn’t agree.”

“Who cares about them? You can’t lose love like that.”

“I didn’t lose it. I was backed into a corner and had to sign it away.”

“I don’t understand.” The waiter walked by and set down their food.

“Lacy…” she started, but stopped, not knowing if she could tell the lies anymore. She wasn’t numb. Every last emotion was clogging her arteries and making her heart throb all at once. “My family has been blackmailing me for years for my inheritance.”

Lacy’s mouth dropped open and she gasped.

Jude said, “Dr. Conroy is being paid to keep me insane.”

She double blinked at Jude, and then again. Her hand was back over her mouth as she stared at the woman in front of her. When her hand came down, Lacy took a sip of coffee as she processed the accusations laid before her. But then did something surprising.

Her finger flew straight up, her elbow stationed on the table. “I knew it!” A thrill flashed through her eyes. “My gut instinct knew it, but no one would listen to me.”

She. Believed. Jude. She believed me.

“I’m very familiar with nobody listening. I’ve been shouting it for years, but somehow I’ve never been heard.”

“I’m hearing you now. I became a nurse to help people. Maybe I can help you.”

TAYLOR SAT INSIDE a hotel ballroom at a round table for ten. August 18th. His parents were on one side and Katherine on the other. The band played as the two-thousand-dollar-a-person plate was taken away. He ate two bites, but had no appetite. Katherine smiled watching the band, then put her hand on his arm. “You’re not hungry? You should eat. You need food to keep up your energy.”

He didn’t reply. Taylor had discovered weeks ago that conversation existed around him whether he participated or not. And ever since his parents found out about the marriage and the annulment, the court case, and restraining order, they were determined to help him get over the loss of his heart, but failed to notice he was dying a slow death without it. Without her. Some people were more persistent than others.

Like Katherine. “Did you hear me, honey?”

This time he did respond, “Yes.”

“What’s wrong? Do you want to dance or get another drink?”

Wordlessly, he stood up and started walking. Away from Katherine and his parents, away from the table and two-thousand-dollar-a-person plates of food, away from this fundraiser that besieged him—all the things that were smothering him with their laughter and happiness. It was all too much.

Too much pain.

The architect walked right through the double doors of the ballroom and down to the lobby. He made it out onto the sidewalk and took his first deep breath all night.

“Taylor? Wait.”

And then his breath stopped, strangling his lungs.

His hands began to tremble. He took one step to get away and his legs gave out on him. Gasps were heard as he fell to his hands and knees to the concrete. Pandemonium surrounded him as two men righted him. Katherine was directing them to a nearby bench, and Taylor let them drag him, unable to make the move himself. When he was secured, they left, but Katherine remained until the ambulance arrived. Worry marked her face quite nicely. Maybe she really does care about me.

The chaos that engulfed him that night was not the chaos he craved. He was hooked to monitors. An IV was next to his bed, dripping straight into his veins. Nurses flitted about, as Katherine fluffed his pillow, and sat next to him gossiping about mutual friends of theirs, friends he didn’t consider real friends.