Chapter 3 #2
Peter must’ve known. It’s the only explanation for why he killed himself when he did—to give me enough time to change my plan.
Of course, he was too much of a coward to help the friend he betrayed.
That’s why he handed the responsibility over to me.
I wonder if Peter thought confessing to me that his best friend wasn’t dead, that he was very much alive and being hidden from the world, would absolve him of his sins.
Fury barrels through me. I hope it didn’t. I hope Peter is burning in hell for what he allowed Father to do to Maverick.
An impossibly heavy weight presses down on my chest, slowly forcing the air from my lungs. I haven’t been able to breathe easy since learning Maverick’s true fate.
All this time, I truly thought Maverick Sutherfield was dead. I’d gone to his funeral. There’d been no body to mourn over, but I had been there. I stood next to his parents and held his mother’s hand while we wept as the empty coffin was lowered into the ground.
His mother was laid to rest right beside his empty grave six months later. I was there for that funeral as well. And I was there for the last funeral, when Maverick’s father killed himself six months after Mrs. Sutherfield was buried.
Learning that he’s alive… well, it's been hard to wrap my head around. Especially since I haven’t actually laid eyes on him yet. Today, that’s going to change. I’m going to see Maverick, my Mavie.
The storm of anxiety, excitement, and heartache raging in my chest is making me feel all out of sorts. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him. Will he remember me? Will he be excited to see me? Relieved to hear the news I carry? God, I hope so. That would be the best-case scenario.
But ultimately, I have no idea what to expect.
“Go in with no expectations,” I mutter to the windshield.
I just need Maverick to know the plan, to know what’s going to happen because it won’t be easy breaking him out of a facility like Serenity Falls.
The high level of security around this place is beyond strange.
I get not wanting the patients to get out and hurt themselves, but the extent they’ve gone to make sure every inch of the property is hidden and fortified reminds me of a military base.
I only have one shot of getting Maverick out.
There’s no room for failure. If we’re caught, heads will roll.
Maverick will be stuck at Serenity Falls forever and Father, who will undoubtedly find out, will drag me back and force me to marry a man I don’t know, let alone love.
I’m sure after the wedding, Father and Arthur will do everything in their power to keep me from leaving again.
I can’t fail in my mission; both my life and Maverick’s depend on my success.
The windshield wipers do their job, removing a sheet of rain just long enough for me to see before visibility becomes sketchy once more. It helps to follow the red taillights of the car a little way ahead of me, but not by much.
I lick my dry lips before leaning forward as I practically press my chest against the steering wheel, as if this will help me see the road better.
Thankfully, as I continue my trek onward, up the winding road, the rain begins to lighten.
Above me, clouds are thinning, allowing streams of sunlight through.
I don’t have to wait much longer for the rain to relent completely.
After another half mile, all that’s left of the storm are some thin, low-hanging gray clouds.
It’ll rain again later, I’m sure of it. The state of Washington can be a miserably dreary place sometimes.
The lush greenery I drive past might be beautiful, but boy it’s always so wet .
The incline of the steep hill suddenly levels out.
As it does, the thick, moss-covered trees, ferns, and other vegetation break away, giving me a view of a grand stone wall and a wrought-iron gate.
A stone cherub sits on either side of the opening.
Both are weathered, their features faded, but from what I can tell, one looks bashful while the other appears a tad mischievous.
The bronze plaque attached to the stone wall reads: Serenity Falls Psychiatric Institution est. 1901.
In front of me, a large van is coming to a stop just outside the gate.
I scan the wall curiously as one of the two security guards approaches the driver’s side.
He checks his clipboard then takes the identification of the driver.
He writes something down and hands the card back.
When the guard is done, he waves the van through the gate.
As it moves out of the way, I can see past the gate.
Beyond it is a long, stone driveway lined with trees spaced evenly apart.
The property around the trees is flat, with luscious thick green grass, manicured perfectly.
Sunlight filters through the clouds for just a moment, casting the road in an almost angelic glow.
“Okay,” I whisper, letting out a breath I’ve been unconsciously holding. “You can do this. You can do anything, Everly.”
It’s the same short pep talk I’ve been giving myself for months. I’m not sure if I fully believe it, but after all I’ve done to get here, I’m beginning to.
“I’m coming for you, Maverick.”
With that, I pull forward and stop just beside the security guard. Reaching down, I manually unroll the window. When it is down just enough for me to slip my fake driver’s license through, I give it to the guard.
“Name and reason for visiting?” the young guy asks, staring down at the ID.
I hold my breath, waiting for the moment he realizes it’s a fake.
My heart hammers so loudly I’m sure it’s about to give me away.
Over the past few months, I’ve done a lot of shady things and met a lot of shady people.
I had to. How else was I supposed to create an all-new identity for myself and Maverick?
I’d saved all I could, planned to the best of my capabilities, and prayed like hell it would all work out. It all boils down to here and now.
And tonight, of course.
“Hello, um, hi,” I reply, fumbling already as nerves get the best of me. Clearing my throat, I force myself to relax. “My name is Anastasia Hutchinson. I’m, ah, here to visit a patient.”
The guard nods before handing me back my fake license.
“Alright, visiting hours just started,” he says, already looking past my car to the next vehicle. “You have two hours before you’ll be asked to leave. Park at the administrative building straight ahead and go inside. They’ll give you a visitor’s pass. Got it?”
I nod. “Ah, yeah, okay. Thanks.”
The guard waves the car behind me forward.
I guess that’s my cue to get moving. With that, I touch the gas pedal and creep down the beautiful stone lane.
At the end of the long drive is a roundabout.
Directly behind it is a stunning two-story Gothic building made of stone.
The pointed arches, ribbed vaults, colorful stained glass, and flying buttresses momentarily erase the trepidation thickening in my veins.
Slowly, I pull up to one of a handful of parking spots in front of the administrative building.
I park the car, reach for the strap of my purse, and open the door.
Immediately, I'm hit with a wave of muggy, wet air.
The rich scent of healthy soil, luscious ferns, and vibrant vegetation is dragged deep into my lungs, where it sticks and lingers. It's a comforting aroma.
But I’m not here to stop and enjoy nature. I’m here to save the love of my life.
With that thought, I head toward the stairs and enter the admin building.