[ Highest Rank #101 in Mystery/Thriller ]
Time has passed. Things have changed. Isabeth, Benny, and Faith aren't quite the same. They have blood on their hands, a code they honor, and secrets they keep locked away. The Psychopath Maker knows this an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sandalwood puffed out the silver dispenser sitting on the round birch table next to Sonia Hernandez as she scribbled on her legal pad. Her bare skin, that wasn't covered by her black and yellow striped skirt stuck to the warm leather.
"How does that make you feel?" Sonia threw out the nauseatingly generic question.
Alex drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. "How do I feel about what," His eyebrows lazily lifted. "Today being Friday, the sky being blue, my hair being black, or me being white."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sonia's pen stopped gilding across the yellow paper, "Alex, we are down the home stretch. You have just three months left of your probation. This would go smoothly if you would just answer the question and accept my help."
"The judge didn't get it and you're having a problem with it too. Open your ears; here it is one more time." Alex cupped his hands around the sides of his mouth. "I'm fine!"
"I've been your therapist for a little over a year, even though you spoke in one syllable the entire time." Sonia looked over to the red paper-covered hardback book in the middle of all her medical books on the silver bookshelf along the wall. "I've researched your life, your family, your friends. I'm a psychiatrist and as you should know from majoring in the field, we invest in our patients."
"Is this trip going anywhere?" Alex asked with his arms folded. "Can we just jump to the exit? I would like to salvage my day." He looked past her at the two framed degrees from Princeton and Cornell hanging on the crème wall.
Sonia uncrossed her legs, placed the pen and pad on the table to her side, and scooted to the edge of the chair. She sat up straight and tucked her black hair behind her satellite ear displaying a lackluster dainty silver hoop.
"You, Alex witnessed your girlfriend die at sixteen. You took the blame; spent a year in an asylum until your half-brother Malachi sprung you free only under the supervision of Dr. Fulton, who was on your father's payroll. After, which you attended the exclusive and prestigious Dawson Prep."
Alex opened his mouth. She held up her palm halting his rebuttal. He closed it in a tightly curved frown.
Sonia resumed, "Where during your senior year you became suspect zero when your colleagues started falling dead. Then you and your friends suffered a nightmarish ordeal while being locked in an asylum where you all had to kill to stay alive. Now, yes since then you have pulled the reins back to live a somewhat normal life, you go to school, have a girlfriend, and friends. But you are not normal and anyone who has lived through any one of these events can't be normal."
