7 – Dr. Weiss
DR. WEISS
Day Four
S ubject: Extra Cabin Time
Dr. Weiss,
Allow me to be crystal fucking clear: No matter how many people you call—or how far above my authority you try to go—extra time will not be granted to your “experiment” just because the prison transport encountered travel difficulties.
Deal with it.
—Warden Burress
I have fifty binders of research to sift through, but I haven’t cracked open the first one. No matter how many alarms or mental countdowns I set, my mind can only focus on one setting: Sadie.
Giving in to the distraction, I log into the cabin’s internal surveillance system to check on her, along with fifteen other “live viewers.”
I select “Patient Bedroom,” and the screen fills with her image.
She’s fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a white towel that clings to her curves. Her skin glows under the low lighting as she sits at the edge of her bed, legs crossed, eyes fixed on our chessboard.
Tapping her lip, she reaches for a pawn on the far left side, but then she hesitates.
She narrows her eyes at the squares, sensing what I may be planning, and then she grabs a different pawn and slides it up two spaces.
Good girl…
My fingers hover over the keyboard, but my mind is elsewhere.
I imagine dragging that towel from her body, revealing the soft flesh underneath. I’d pin her against the glass wall and press her palms to the cold pane while I moved inside her— hard and slow —until she begs to surrender.
As I’m envisioning how her lips taste, she looks up from the game.
Right at the camera. Right at me.
Her cheeks flush red as if she can see me, and her lips part like she’s about to speak.
Fuck. I immediately log off.
“We have a problem, Dr. Weiss.” Robin appears at my desk, looking like she’s seen a ghost.
“A huge, will-ruin-everything kind of problem.”
“Robin…” I don’t move. “Please stop using your suspense-building-author lessons on me. Just say it.”
“A huge chunk of the staff is refusing to work this case with us,” she blurts out. “They’ve come down with mystery illnesses, taken paid leave, or straight-up refused to participate.”
I raise a brow. “Define ‘huge chunk.’”
“Everyone except you, me, Sheldon, and the nurses.”
Jesus. That’s over fifty people.
“Bet you wish I’d built up the suspense now, don’t you?”
I don’t answer. I knew this was coming the moment I named her as the next cabin subject.
The second her file hit the table, the room went still. All the excitement drained out of the air and into the vents.
When I ended the hour-long pitch with, ‘Who’s ready to study Sadie?’ not a single hand went up.
We all sat in silence for ten minutes until Robin suggested a lunch break.
Any other therapist would’ve taken the hint, but I’m not most therapists.
“Are you planning to bail on me too?” I ask Robin. “I’d rather you tell me now than later.”
“No.” She folds her arms, firm. “I’m all in. I’ve been obsessed with this batshit-crazy woman for years.”
“Good to know.” I let her comment slide. “Get me a list of who’s left. I’ll bring my first session notes to you after lunch.”
“You still have time to walk away from this, you know,” she says. “Everyone in the media is calling you an egotistical idiot.”
“Name one time the media got anything right.”
“She’s a hopeless case, Dr. Weiss. She killed them in cold blood.” Her voice softens. “You can label her with anything you want—sociopath, borderline, trauma-bonded psychopath—but at the end of the day?—”
“At the end of the day,” I interrupt, “you really believe she murdered three men in broad daylight and then called 911 herself? All without even attempting to run away?”
She doesn’t answer.
“She doesn’t match the profile of a true psychopathic murderer,” I say. “She hasn’t even had any infractions in prison.”
“Wrong.” She tosses a folder on my desk. “Seven minor write-ups and one major that cost her a month of phone privileges.”
“What was that one for?”
“Offering to suck off a guard in exchange for ice cream.”
Impossible. I shake my head. There’s no way I would’ve missed seeing that; it’s not in any of the files I have.
“Have someone verify it,” I say.
“I am someone.”
“Then verify it.”
“Now?”
“No, next year.” I shrug. “In fact, schedule it for ten years from now—maybe it’ll feel urgent by then.”
“Fine.” She sighs. “Your brilliance and assholery aside, how exactly are you going to manage the intensive research part without the rest of the team?”
“I guess I’ll have to step out a few hours a day.” I pause. “I made Sadie’s lawyer a promise, and last time I checked, I don’t break those.”
“Not even for a murderer,” she mutters under her breath.
My glare shuts her up.
“Let’s say she did it,” I say, not wanting to run her off with everyone else. “Wouldn’t that make her the most fascinating patient we’ve ever had?”
Robin exhales slowly.
“Better question—if she were released tomorrow, do you honestly think she’d kill someone else?”
“No.” She looks genuine. “I don’t.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m on your side no matter what, okay?” She stares at me for a beat longer. “Just… watch your back, Dr. Weiss. And watch her twice as hard.”
She leaves without another word, and the moment the door clicks shut, I open my laptop.
I log back into the system and sign in to steal more glimpses of Sadie.