11 – Dr. Weiss
DR. WEISS
Night Seven
W alk inside, grab the duffle bags, move into the cabin. Do not pass go for any conversations with staff…
“Here are all the printed transcripts and recorded video files from Miss Pretty’s first few days at the cabin.” Sheldon hands me a binder the moment I return to the main office. “I’ve sent digital copies to the behavioral analysis team as well.”
“Appreciate it. Did the prison guards check and approve my overnight bags?” I ask. “Am I clear to move into the cabin?”
“Everything is sealed and waiting for you in the hall.” He folds his arms. “Why are you moving into the cabin at this point?”
“Well, we’re now on day seven, Sheldon,” I say. “If I don’t get started on the ‘experiment’ part, then her stay will be pointless.”
“I was watching when she said she wants to go back to prison.” He shrugs. “I think you should accommodate that request.”
“She didn’t mean that,” I say.
“How do you know for sure?”
I tap my fingers against the binder, weighing my words carefully.
I saw it in her eyes—the flash of hurt behind her anger, the way her voice cracked when she swore she wasn’t lying.
She’s too composed for her own good, but she hasn’t figured out that her eyes betray her. Deep in those green irises is the truth, thrumming just beneath the surface, and they also reveal that she didn’t commit those murders.
“Just trust me” is all I can say. “I’m fine with her staying until the experiment is over.”
“Are you also okay with her destroying everything in your cabin?”
“What?” My jaw ticks. “What are you talking about?”
“See for yourself.” He clicks a remote, and the entire wall of screens flickers to life.
“ Fuck you !” Sadie screams, hurling a chair into a bookshelf. My books scatter like leaves in a storm, and behind her, lamps lie shattered and all the drawers are ripped open.
My blood boils as she walks to the living room window and tears down the drapes.
This isn’t part of the plan. She’s supposed to unravel slowly, not all at once. But I can’t stop watching… Can’t stop needing to prove I’m right about her.
“This footage isn’t being watched live by anyone except us, correct?” I ask.
“Correct, sir,” he says. “We’re still on the five-hour delay you insist on for all patients.”
“Show me what the correctional officers and behavioral doctors can see right now.”
“Okay, um…” He rewinds the footage, stopping when he reaches my session with Sadie.
“When is your birthday?” I ask her onscreen.
“October thirty-first.”
“Halloween?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Where are you originally from?”
“Okay.” I roll up my sleeves. “The moment this session ends, queue a loop of her sleeping for the next six hours.”
“Huh?” His brows shoot up. “Why?”
“Just do it.” I glare at him.
“Sir… you do realize this completely violates protocol, right?”
“ Now .”
He moves to the desk and taps on the keyboard. Suddenly, the wall screen shifts to a soft, hazy shot of her curled up in bed. Peaceful. Bare shoulders above the covers. Every item in the cabin is untouched, pristine, just the way I left it.
“It’ll run like you said.” Sheldon looks confused. “But no one—not even me—will be able to tap back into the live feed without you giving me your password…”
“I’ll call you with it after I deal with Miss Pretty.” I head to the door.
“But sir, you’re not supposed to ever?—”
I don’t wait to hear the rest.
I’ve wasted enough time already.