Lisa sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the bandage on her wrist. It was all still a blur—the trial, the verdict, the decision to place her in a psychiatric ward.
She remembered the moment she purposely hurt herself, just to make the judge believe she was unstable. It worked, but now here she was, stuck in this place, pretending to be crazy. She wasn’t crazy. Not at all. She was just… playing the game. But no one else saw it that way.
She sighed, running her fingers over the bandage. At least she wasn’t in jail. Small victories, right? But this? This wasn’t exactly what she wanted either. Being in the psych ward wasn’t any better. It wasn’t freedom.
It was still a cage, just padded and with softer walls. Her mind drifted back to the trial, where Claire had glared at her from across the room. That face—oh, how Claire had hated her. The frown, the way Claire’s eyes bore into her, it all made Lisa uncomfortable.
Not because she was scared of Claire—no, it was because Lisa knew deep down that she had nothing left. Not even a satisfying smirk to throw back at Claire. The whole trial had been miserable. Lisa was supposed to be putting on an act, and acting crazy didn’t leave much room for gloating.
Her mind wandered further, to the fallout with her mom. It wasn’t just Claire who hated her now. Her relationship with her mother was broken, thanks to all of this. Because of Claire. Because of everything. And now? Now she was utterly alone. Well, except for Gretta. But Gretta was a strange kind of ally. A savior, maybe. But Lisa couldn’t decide if Gretta counted as a friend. Or if she could trust her.
The sound of knocking on her door startled her, and Lisa jumped. Her heart raced as she looked up. A nurse peeked inside.
“You’ve got a visitor,” the nurse said, her tone cautious, like Lisa was about to bite her or something.
Lisa’s mind raced. A visitor? Who in the world would visit her? Panic shot through her. Claire. Oh God, what if it was Claire? Her stomach twisted, and her body felt cold at the thought.
But then, the door swung open fully, and it wasn’t Claire. It was Gretta. Lisa exhaled deeply, a rush of relief washing over her. Of course, it wasn’t Claire. It was Gretta.
The nurse gave Gretta a side glance. “Be careful with her. No one knows when she might… act up.”
Lisa clenched her fists under the bed covers, suppressing the urge to snap at the nurse. Act up? She wanted to hiss, but she bit her tongue. The last thing she needed was to blow Gretta’s plan by losing her temper. She had to keep the act up. Keep playing the part.
The nurse finally left, closing the door softly behind her. The moment the footsteps faded, Gretta pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down, crossing her legs like she had all the time in the world.
“How’s life?” Gretta asked casually, as if Lisa wasn’t sitting there in a psychiatric ward, pretending to be insane.
Lisa stared at her for a solid five minutes, waiting until she was absolutely sure the nurse had walked far enough away. Once the coast was clear, she dropped the crazy act and shot Gretta an annoyed glare.
“How long do I have to keep up this stupid charade?” Lisa hissed, her voice sharp but quiet.
Gretta chuckled, clearly amused. “Honestly, you’re doing such a great job, I was starting to think you really had lost it.”
Lisa rolled her eyes, leaning back against the headboard. “I don’t have a choice. It was either this or jail, and jail wasn’t an option.”
Gretta raised an eyebrow, still smirking. “And you play the part so well. Almost convincing, if I didn’t know any better.”
Lisa groaned, running a hand through her hair. “How much longer do I have to do this? I’m losing my mind in here, and I’m not even actually crazy!”
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The readers' comments on the novel: New beginning: Billionaire love story (Claire and Alex)
What's with the loose spelling gotta try n figure out the sentence....