Chapter Nine

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Blake's POV

I'm crazy, right? For actually considering the idea of helping him. I am not only putting my job, but my life, at risk if I choose to help him. And, Lord knows I can't do it alone. Who am I going to ask? Brooklyn? 

Part of me wants to help him, because I think, maybe, he was framed. But the other part of me wants to ignore him, and move on with my life. 

How on earth does even think that I will be able to prove this to world, anyways? I'm a nurse, not a reporter. I can't just write an article about how he's not the killer. I need evidence, witnesses, so much more information than I actually have now. 

He said he'd give me a day to think about it, and then I would need to give him an answer. Maybe if I just sleep on the idea, then my mind will be refreshed, and maybe I'll choose the right choice. 

~~~~~

As I walk into work the next morning, I am completely dreading the day ahead. Never in my life have I been so nervous to talk to someone. I brace myself, as I open the door. 

Inside, one of the officers says hello. I've seen him around many times, but this is the first we've actually spoken, and it's rather strange, I must say. 

He walks past me with a deranged look on his face, and I stop in my tracks. I have seen that look before... It is a look that most of our violent patients have here. 

I release the tense feeling I have in my mind about him because this man is an officer - they all look pissed at the world. I keep walking down the hall into the locker room, where I hope to see Brooklyn. I have been debating in my mind as the whether I should tell her about James. I want to tell her everything, but I feel like I shouldn't tell a soul. 

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