The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter nine

Chapter Nine

Lexi knew a thing or two about psychiatric evaluations. After her traumatic brain injury, there were plenty of doctors who wanted to check up on her mind. She didn't like the prodding, the MRIs, the inquisitions, but she knew they were a necessary part of her life. If she ran her fingers along her hairline, she could still find the jagged scar that ran along her forehead. It was right where her skull had cracked open at the base of the stairs. Admittedly, it was easy to envision, which perturbed her.

She awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning when the agents began to show up for their shifts. It would be breakfast time soon, and she would be eating with a social worker while she filled out a survey and navigated an impending questioning.

Lexi was sure she was as mentally stable as she could be, albeit a bit rattled by her environment. She was trying her best to be as put-together as possible. It was the only way she'd be able to survive this.

She was led to another holding room within an hour of waking up by a guard who didn't say a single word to her. She wondered if he knew what she was in for and if that was the cause of his stubborn silence.

It was unclear how many times she would find herself on the wrong side of a locked door, under the thumb of some greater force. She hoped it would end soon.

The woman assigned to her was named Mrs. Dominguez, and she came in with a packet, a bagel, some steaming coffee, and a tentative smile. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, but there was something about her face that was timeless.

"You must be Lexi," Mrs. Dominguez said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Lexi said, deadpan.

"Feel free to eat up. You'll need your strength."

Lex hated taking food from a stranger, but she didn't exactly have a choice. She didn't know when her next meal would be, so she took full advantage of what was in front of her. She ate quietly as Mrs. Dominguez ran through the procedure for the meeting, detailing what Lexi already knew. Lex politely listened, knowing better than to interrupt.

"It's been a rough week, huh?" the social worker asked.

"That's an understatement," Lexi replied.

"You're pretty tough. Seems like you're handling this well."

"I'm not sure that's true. Then again, I don't know many suspects who are wanted for murder." She glanced up at Mrs. Dominguez. "How come you don't look freaked out?"

"I've dealt with patients a lot worse than you," Mrs. Dominguez said matter-of-factly. She looked at her questionnaire. "What's your family like? Can you tell me about them?"

"Uh, well, I have two parents and an aunt who lives with me. I have one brother, Q. It's Quinton, technically, but he's not big on his full name. We're happy and tight-knit. There's nothing that could really change that," Lexi finished.

"A good support system is critical, and it looks like you have that."

"I don't know what I would do if I didn't," Lex admitted.

Mrs. Dominguez wrote something down before continuing. "Your aunt lives with you, correct?"

"She has for a long time."

"She's never been married?"

"She was engaged a while ago," Lex answered, knowing what the social worker was getting at. "It didn't work out."

"Why is that?"

"Well, when your fiance is a child molester and an attempted murderer, it tends to be a bit of a damper on the relationship," she said bitterly.