When someone dies mysteriously during a Psych experiment, Rhiannon becomes enmeshed in a conspiracy that includes both the survivors and the killer.
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Short on cash, Rhiannon...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DEINDIVIDUATION
( — loss of self-awareness and evaluation apprehension; occurs in group situations that foster responsiveness to group norms, good or bad. )
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"RHEA, YOU NEED TO SIT DOWN."
"No," Rhiannon replies, even if she fails to recognize the voice that speaks as her own. Her lips move and she can hear every word that comes out of her mouth, but she's having some trouble acknowledging that on a fully conscious level. Her phone is shaking between her hands, but it's not vibrating anymore and the screen is completely black; it's almost as if that phone call didn't even exist. "No. I'm okay."
"You can't possibly be okay after—"
"Isla, I said I'm fine!" Isla doesn't shudder when Rhiannon raises her voice, but still clenches her jaw, as if there was a piece of chewing gum in her mouth. Rhiannon's usual tone of voice is what most people would consider low, so she's not exactly screaming right now, but it was a considerable change from the norm.
Norm. There's that word again.
Then, there's utter silence in the room. Rhiannon throws her phone to her bed, where it falls with a soft thud, and walks towards her vanity in search of her toothbrush and toothpaste, as she has been here for long enough.
She wants to apologize to Isla, seeing as snapping at her was completely unnecessary, but she has already done and said plenty of terrible things, not just to her, and it will come a time when she won't be forgiven anymore. People get tired of apologies at some point, as they expect you to learn from your mistakes instead of collecting them in tiny jars to show off to visitors.
"Where are you going?" Isla questions, keeping her voice soft and calm as if she was talking to a child.
"I need to brush my teeth," Rhiannon mutters, opening the bedroom door and pushing it with her hip. The hallways are flooding with people who seem to have had the same idea as her and others who are leaving for breakfast. These people either stay up late, studying the night away, or get up stupidly early, so it's no surprise to see so many people. "Do you want to be my study buddy?"
"Rhea . . ." Isla's voice now drips with hesitation, and Rhiannon almost gives in. "I don't know. Maybe you should rest for a bit; that phone call would leave anyone feeling really uncomfortable."
"I could use some quality time with my best friend. Come on," she insists, when Isla pouts. "When was the last time we did something together? I know it's just studying, but . . ."
