Chapter 26 Chapter 26 Now

I lay on my back in bed, staring at the ceiling.The churning in my stomach has nothing to do with the food they brought me this morning because I didn't eat a bite.The plate of food was on the table across the room, and I tried to keep it as far away as possible, because the cold scrambled eggs made me so sick, I hurried over to the toilet and waited.But I didn't spit it out. Getting rid of fear is not easy. It had been six days and twenty-one hours since my last meeting with Dr. Peterson.Usually I also get tutoring midweek, but I got a respite that day.Dr. Peterson did not lie about filling out discharge forms and performing hand surgery.After the initial consultation, the doctor was quite optimistic, saying that skin grafting and artificial nails could be planted.My hands will never be "normal" again, he told me.But the difference won't be too big.

This incident has put me in a good mood for the past few days, except that I woke up this morning to the gray light coming in from the small window, and I felt a cold dread hovering over me. I don't want to go back to Dr. Peterson's office again. There was no clock in the room, but it was not difficult to keep track of the time.Caregivers follow a routine every day.Deliver food.Dispensing medicine.Take those of us who have nothing else to do for a token "workout".rounds.At half past ten, they had just finished checking.Less than three minutes ago, a face spied on me, to make sure I was not in desperation, dismantling the sheet into strips, artfully tied together as a rope to hang myself.I'm not; I'm not so ingenious.But I'm desperate.I began to realize that I might never be able to leave here.

At this time, there was movement at the door, and I hurriedly turned my head to look.I rolled over and sat up with a look of anticipation on my face.The churning feeling in the stomach has reached the point where it cannot be increased. With a creak, the door was pulled open.A nurse gave me a perfunctory smile.He has been in charge of my ward for nearly a year and I have never learned his name. "Time to go, Heather." I sighed, swallowed, and took a second to collect myself.But I didn't try to resist.I know from past experience that this is pointless and does more harm than good.When I approached, the caretaker stepped back quickly, he was cautious and strictly followed the rules.

We passed door after door, and as always, we heard the strange noises that only this place can have: screams, wails, shouts.Heavy knocking.Soliloquy.Every time I hear that sound, I get nervous; only then do I appreciate the locks on every door.Those madmen scare me. As we crossed the threshold into the comfortable and beautiful visitor-friendly part of the building, I relaxed, but also became more nervous.Those voices disappeared, replaced by some more normal voices.Official conversation, the clatter of high heels, fingers typing a hundred words per minute on the keyboard, the phone ringing.I stopped in the waiting area, which was Helen's place.Just as I was about to sit down in a chair against the wall, a hand on my shoulder pushed me forward, and no sooner had I felt the pressure than I realized the door to Peterson's office It's open, he's waiting for me.

I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief that there's no need to wait and that I'll be inside right away, but at the same time, I'm counting on the precious waiting time to calm myself down and prepare myself for the vile battle to come. I went into the office and Dr. Peterson was not behind his desk.I frowned, turned around, and saw him by a filing cabinet diagonally behind me.He was rummaging through the top drawer, and I hadn't noticed how short he was until now.He had to stand on tiptoe in his shiny black shoes to see inside the drawer.This realization brought an inappropriate smile to my lips.For some time to come, this will probably be the last time I really smile.

"Heather!" Dr. Peterson greeted me, slightly out of breath.I raised my eyebrows in surprise.It was so unusual for him to greet me like this.He usually sits behind a desk.I wondered if this was an elaborate trap, a strange new trick he had come up with against me.But no, he seemed distracted and uncomfortable.I watched in silence as he rummaged through the papers and produced one.With a relaxed expression on his face, he slammed the drawer shut and placed the document on top of the cluttered pile of papers on his desk.As soon as I got to my seat, I saw my name on the top document.

"There's progress, Heather," he said, sitting in the chair across from me.He changed to a comfortable sitting position. He was getting old, and his bones clicked when he adjusted, and a painful expression appeared on his face. progress?I maintained an indifferent look, but curiosity overflowed in my heart.What happened to make the usually calm Dr. Peterson so restless? "The judge sent a subpoena. You're going to a second hearing." If this was a cartoon, my mouth would have opened wide, and my jaw would have dropped to the ground with a bang, which was ridiculous.It's a pity that this is real life, and there is no such thing as jaw dropping.I just stared at him in surprise.

The first hearing was nothing short of a joke.I wasn't even there.I was in the hospital, but my parents went.They sat in a room with the judge, some lawyers, and good old Mr. Peterson, and I reckon they talked for ten minutes before they decided I was crazy.crazy.Unconsciousness.Unfit to stand trial.That's why Dr. Peterson can lock me up.There might be a doctor on hand to offer a second opinion (I lay flat on my back in the hospital ward, trying to make sense of the world around me, seeing a lot of people in white coats), but even if there was, he would Agree with Peterson's judgment.My parents didn't even object.They probably thought it was better than going to jail.Not so shameful either.A mad daughter is better than a criminal's daughter.

Second hearing.Peterson never hinted at it the few times he met me.Judging by the way he twisted on the chair and the sweat on his forehead, it is estimated that this matter was a bit unexpected.I was very happy to see him nervous and embarrassed, but I was also surprised and had no time to enjoy the pleasure. "Why?" I asked.Has something changed? Dr. Peterson coughed, straightened his tie, and pursed his lips. "The judge wishes to reassess your case." Yes, of course I know that, but... "Why?" He sniffled, took a deep breath, and looked straight into my face.

"There is now a new witness who the judge believes has the potential to give new testimony in the Blackstone case." It's Dodge.Otherwise who else? I refrained myself from getting hopeful.New witnesses—possibly a local who knew Ishizuka; a dog walker we didn't see.Or maybe another doctor eager to get to my heart. But not like this.I knew it had to be Dodge.he woke up.He finally woke up. "I want to see him," I said. Dr. Peterson shook his head immediately. "no." "I want to see him." Neither of us mentioned the name of this new witness.Not necessary.Dr. Peterson's reluctance to meet my eye said it all.No wonder he was restless.If Dodge proves my claim, then they can't call me crazy.If Dodge proves my story, they can't call me a murderer.

if?No if... He will definitely do it. "I want to see him." I'll hold out until Dr. Peterson understands that this is non-negotiable. Unfortunately I am not qualified to negotiate.Peterson waved his hand in disapproval of my request. "The hearing is on Thursday, July 7th. I'll go with you, and your parents will be there—" "I don't want to see them there," I said automatically. Peterson shrugged. "You're under eighteen, Heather. Your parents must be present." I frowned, but I didn't really care.For a while, I was overwhelmed with thoughts.Thursday the 7th...I try to mentally calculate today's date.It's Monday, and I'm well aware of that.Last week's meeting with Peterson was as long as a marathon and as terrifying as a nightmare, when it was the one-year anniversary, and I shudder slightly to say... "What day is today?" I asked.Just to make sure.I must be sure. "Monday," Dr. Peterson replied. I fought back not to tsk-tsk-he knew what I was asking. "What's the date today?" I rephrase, hoping to suppress the sarcasm in my tone.I feel the need to be nice to him today.I don't want to annoy him and give him an excuse to say something against me at the hearing.Of course, I probably should have done this a year ago. Dr. Peterson sighed. "Number four." "July?" "yes." I started to digest this information.The hearing will be held in three days.In three days, I may be free. In three days, I could be sent to prison with the trial date around my neck like a noose. In three more days, I'll probably be back here again. These three days have passed very long, but they are also fleeting.I'm all alone these days.Nurses don't talk to patients very often, and I refuse the once-a-week diversion of leaving the ward to exercise or watch the same boring movie for the seventh time.Before leaving Dr. Peterson's office, I asked to see Dodge again, but he ignored me and ignored my words. That was the last time I spoke, and by Thursday morning, my throat had tightened and my voice had become hoarse from days of not speaking.I finished my breakfast in silence, walked silently to the shower, and waited silently in Helen's small office-cum-waiting area.As promised, Dr. Peterson accompanied me, showing up on time, wearing an expensive-looking dark gray wool coat over a pinstripe suit.Under one arm he had a large folder of papers about me, condensed, all brilliantly written. If I get released today, will I be able to see what's inside?Don't know why, I don't think so. I was expecting an "ambulance" like when we arrived, however, we walked slowly out the front door.It was the first time I saw the front entrance of the place, and I automatically looked around before getting into the back seat of a limo.The car looked... expensive, as grand as a country estate.There was not a hint of madness in the car.I have kept my oath of silence and have not commented on this.I just hope never to see it like this again. It is July and the weather is not warm.The sky was overcast with clouds, and a drizzle was falling from the pale gray sky.I told myself that this was by no means an ominous sign, but anxiety was squirming like a snake in my stomach.The car started and drove steadily.Dr. Peterson looks over the records beside me.I'm tempted to sneak a few peeks, but the adrenaline starts to build and my vision starts to shake.Besides, I don't want to act like I'm interested in what Dr. Peterson has written and trust his "professional" opinion.So I just stared out the window, waiting for the familiar scenery to come into my sight. After a while, I finally got my wish.We walked through commercial buildings, followed, and before we knew it, we entered a residential area, but it was a high-end residential area.This is a neighborhood where the rich live.I don't know how those residents will feel when they find a madhouse next to them.I don't know if they wake up in the middle of the night worrying that some lunatic is stalking across their well-manicured lawn.Maybe not. It wasn't until I got to the highway that I figured out what this place was.Only one lane runs north and the name is clearly visible on the sign.I raised my eyebrows in surprise.I am farther from home than I thought.In fact, it's closer to the Black Cairns than I am to Glasgow.I looked to the west as if I could see the sea.I can't see it, the sea is miles away after all.I have a feeling though.Anxiety, fear, uncertainty.I no longer look in the direction of the sea. The hearing took place in a side room at Glasgow County Court.This room is similar to a conference room in a luxury hotel.Inside there was a long table, a huge window overlooking another building, and tasteful paintings on the walls.At first, it was just me, Dr. Peterson, and my nurse, but as soon as we got there, other people started walking in one by one.In came a man in a suit with a shiny black briefcase, who I was sure was a lawyer.He ignored me, but shook Peterson's hand.Then, my parents came in, and I was so embarrassed.I tried my best not to bring myself to look at them, but I just couldn't help it.My father smiled nervously, and my mother looked pained.I don't know if I should say something, but with Dr. Peterson and the lawyer in the room, I suddenly feel self-conscious.I fidgeted in my chair and just stared at the door, waiting for someone to come in and ease the awkwardness of the moment. Someone did come in.The door slammed open, and the first thing you saw were two wheels.At first, I couldn't see who was in the wheelchair, because the person pushing the wheelchair made a mess, bumped into the door, and added to the mess.I heard a sigh, and a very familiar voice whispered, "I'll do it." It's Dodge.I smiled involuntarily, but it froze on my lips when I saw how bad he was.He sat hunched over in the wheelchair, his body seemed to have shrunk.His cheeks were sunken and his eyes were severely darkened.The hair is straight and soft, greasy.But he smiled when he saw me and waved at me as he maneuvered the wheelchair. We didn't speak, because Dodge walked in a fat, gray-haired, stern-looking man who must have been the judge.He went directly to the chief seat of the long table and sat down, while the rest of the people found their seats and sat down. I sit at the end of the long table.I have a foreboding feeling that most of the conversation will take place at the other end of the long oval mahogany table, far away from me. "Guys," the judge's bell-like voice ended the murmured conversation in the room and focused everyone's attention, "Now is the hearing for Heather Shore, isn't that right?" He looked around, and the lawyer briefly Nodding, "Very well. Now it's—" He glanced at his watch quickly, "—11:47 am on July 7th, everyone here includes—" Just as he said one by one As attendees were named, a woman with ash-haired hair beside him recorded every word he said on a small laptop.Unlike the calm Helen, she was anxiously trying to keep up with the judge's sharp speech, "I'm Judge McDowell, and I'm presiding over today's hearing. Well, the polite words are over. Where do we start?" It was the lawyer who spoke first.He read a typed document in front of him, which I quickly realized was my case report so far.After hearing several places, Judge McDowell nodded, so it can be seen that he had either read the report, or he was the judge at the first hearing, and he agreed to send me to Peterson Went to the doctor.I hope it's the former.I squirmed a few times in my chair as the lawyer read my original testimony to Dr. Peterson.Very detailed.Word for word.My face started to get hot.If I were not the subject of this discussion, I would say that the man who made this confession is unquestionably a lunatic.When the lawyer was reading, Dodge listened carefully, his brows were slightly frowned.He raised his eyebrows a few times, as if in surprise, but I couldn't understand why he did that.It is impossible for me to ask. Lawyer finally finished reading. "So today we're going to hear the testimony of Douglas Fletcher, isn't it?" "Yes, Your Honor." "Please remind me why Mr. Fletcher was not heard before." "He fell into a coma due to a head injury, Your Honor," said the lawyer. "A year in a coma?" "Yes, Your Honor." "That's really inconvenient to testify." I really wanted to laugh, but I bit my tongue so hard that it hurt so much that I almost shed tears.The Judge pursed his lips at his own joke, and my urge to laugh was irresistible.I would never describe Dodge's injury and the impact it has had on my life over the past twelve months as "a bit of an inconvenience." More like a real-life nightmare. "Your Honor, may I interrupt you?" Dr. Peterson leaned forward and smiled flatteringly.My stomach twisted into a ball.At this point I really regret having said so many malicious and aggressive things to him.I even regret ever trying to stab him.Because he has the right to lock me up all the time, and besides, I pissed him off to make him want to do it.I waited with bated breath for him to speak ill of me in front of the judge.But he didn't get the chance.As soon as the judge frowned, he didn't dare to speak. "Dr. Peterson, I would like to hear Mr. Fletcher's testimony first, and then you can speak freely." He turned to look at Dodge, "Mr. Fletcher, we are holding a formal hearing now, but I hope it makes you feel casual. Can I call you Douglas?" "Call me Dodge." His voice was softer than I remembered. I don't know if it's because he's been in a coma for a year. I've only been in a coma for a few days, and my throat feels like sandpaper, or it's because he's the same as me nervous.I smiled at him, but he didn't look at me. Judge McDowell took one look at him and continued, "Douglas, I'm going to ask you a few questions about your trip to Blackstone last year. I want you to answer them in as much detail as possible. I need you to remember that I It's a judge, it's a court hearing, and what you say has to be the truth. Understand?" Dodge turned pale, but he nodded. "Then let's start from the beginning. Please tell me about that trip." Dodge began by telling the story of the situation on the drive, telling Judge McDowell about the camping, about the drinking, about the tension between Martin and Darren.It was weird to hear him talk about that time.It's like looking at the world through stained glass.He talked about Martin's disappearance, Darren's disappearance, and Emma's strange behavior.I closed my eyes hurriedly as he described the dramatic final scene on the beach, but that didn't stop his words from penetrating my imagination.I resisted so much that I didn't cover my ears with my hands. I didn't want to hear it, and I didn't want to relive the scene, because I knew what I would be like.Today, I must not act like a lunatic. Dodge's version ended a little earlier than mine.He talked about how he was jerked backwards, how he felt like he was flying through the air, and how his whole world was pitch black that year.After he finished speaking, the room fell silent.Someone coughed twice.I opened my eyes and saw that the coughing person was my father.We looked at each other and looked away after me. Dodge's story, though lacking a small detail or two, fits in well with mine.A small detail or two, and one important detail, is that he doesn't mention the ghost.He also didn't explain why Martin, Darren, and Emma disappeared.He just said they disappeared.There was a huge hole in Dodge's story, and I knew Dr. Peterson was waiting to make a big fuss about it. "Douglas, this is Dr. Peterson," he said.Dodge nodded and followed me with a look.We exchanged glances, and I realized that Dodge knew it: Dr. Peterson was my watchman, and more than that, he was a hidden enemy.I watched Dodge calm down; he knew what was coming. "May I ask you a question or two?" I really wanted to rush between them and protect Dodge from Dr. Peterson using his cunning and demagogic methods against him, but in this situation, I can only sit in a chair, and I have sent out as much as possible. warn. "Of course," said Dodge in a hoarse voice. "You mean, Darren Gibson, and your friend—Martin Robertson?—" Dr. Peterson said questioningly to Martin, checking his name on the record, "—disappeared Yes. Can you explain to me what happened to them?" "I told you. Martin went off without a trace and Darren disappeared when he and Emma went to collect firewood in the bay. Heather was with me the entire time. We were both Together." Dodge's expression was firm and defensive.I glanced at him gratefully, but he didn't receive my gaze. Dr. Peterson smiled. "It's rare that you protect your friend, Douglas. But you're here to explain what happened to us, not to excuse Heather." "I'm telling the truth," said Dodge stubbornly. "Douglas, were you with Heather when Emma Collins disappeared?" The terrible silence seemed to extend infinitely.I looked at Dodge, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Judge McDowell frowning. "Douglas?" "We're all on the beach." "Are you together?" Another awkward pause. "No," said Dodge at last. "So you didn't see what happened to Emma Collins?" Did not see.That was the truth, but I saw that Dodge didn't want to answer that. "They were a hundred meters away. I could see the flashlight. Heather had only been away for a few minutes." But a few minutes is enough.From the expressions of Dr. Peterson and the lawyer, I can see that they all think so.I watched Judge McDowell carefully, but I couldn't see what he was thinking. "You were sick on that trip, weren't you?" the lawyer asked.Dodge looked at him over his shoulder, puzzled by the sudden change in question. "I'm sorry, Douglas. I'm Mr. Thompson, and I work for the county attorney. Can you tell me if you were ill at that time?" "I just have a cold." Dodge evasively said. "Just a cold? Your case shows that you told the doctor that you had a fever. You had a high fever and head trauma. The doctor at the time said you might have experienced dizziness, nausea, or even vomiting. Do you remember?" Remember you had these symptoms, Douglas?" "If so, what?" Dodge asked. "What do you want to say?" The lawyer smiled, admitting that he had something to say. "I would like to point out, Douglas, that you were very ill and your memory was clouded. Given the trauma you suffered to the head, you—" "I'm not lying," interjected Dodge. The lawyer smiled even wider. "I'm not implying that you're lying," he assured Dodge and the judge, "but your memory may not be the truth of what happened. It's all because of your illness. I understand that you want to help But it's very important, my friend, that you don't distort the facts, or take advantage of any loopholes, even small loopholes, Douglas. Say what you remember, and that's the best way to help Heather." "What I told you is the truth." Dodge gritted his teeth and said, "I was a little uncomfortable, but I didn't make it up. I also sprained my ankle. Do you want to tell me because I hurt my ankle? , am I making up a lie? Or are you going to say that Heather broke a branch and is going to kill me?" "Douglas," Judge McDowell interjected, raising his hand slightly to indicate that he had noticed the growing tension. "Take a deep breath. We're here to help Heather." This time I couldn't help it, and burst out laughing, but my laughter was so soft that I don't think anyone else heard it.I have only one friend in this room, and I'm terrified that he'll be overwhelmed by Dr. Peterson and Lawyer Thompson. "Douglas," Dr. Peterson leaned forward again, and Dodge shifted in his wheelchair to face him, "you need to understand that Heather is sick." I kept my head down so no one would be watching. Seeing how embarrassed I was because everyone was talking about me like I wasn't there, "She thinks an evil spirit killed your friends. A dark shadow swooped down and took them away." I held my breath, knowing very well that this was a very dangerous moment.Peterson was setting a trap for the Dodgers, a very good one.If Dodge agrees with me, he is as delusional as I am; in that case, perhaps we are complicit.If I disagree, I'm a madman.Crazy people do crazy things... like killing people.No, it was Dodge himself who sent them back into Peterson's clutches. He neither agreed nor disagreed, but laughed. I stared at him, not knowing why, but Dodge looked confident and not in a mess. "That's just a story," he said. "I told people this ghost story to scare them. It's not true." "It's true for Heather," Dr. Peterson said softly. I grabbed the armrest of the chair under the table with both hands, ignoring the sharp pain in my right hand.I don't want things to develop like this.I want to talk, but I know no one will listen.After all, I'm just crazy. "Really?" Dodge asked calmly.I don't think he's trying to throw himself into a trap.Before Peterson could answer, he continued, "There are no ghosts, no monsters." Dodge paused, looked at me, noticed my frightened face, and smiled seriously, "But there is a person." one person?I looked at Dodge in amazement, but he didn't wait to see my expression.He turned his head to look at the judge. "I saw a man several times. At first I thought the man was walking his dog on the hill, but I didn't see him with a dog. The first time I didn't see it, the next day he came back, Neither did I. He was standing on a high hill watching us, and that was an hour before Martin disappeared." "A man?" said the judge slowly. Dodge nodded, and at the same time, Thompson called out, "What does he look like?" Doubt was written all over the lawyer's face.Dodge didn't react to the sneer in his eyes, but shrugged at his question. "I don't know, I didn't see it. He was standing so far away that I could only see a silhouette. All I knew was that he was wearing dark clothes." "You saw the man the day Martin disappeared?" "Yes." Dodge nodded quickly, looking alert. "Did you see him after that? Did you see him the day you said Darren disappeared?" Dodge frowned. "I can't be sure. Heather and I walked to the main road and I think I saw a van parked in the distance, but by the time we got to higher ground it was gone." "Do you remember what that van was like, Douglas?" the judge asked. "Too far," Dodge reminded them. "What color?" the judge asked softly. "What is the size?" Dodge opened his mouth to speak when Dr. Peterson interrupted. "Heather never mentioned that she'd seen a man. Not once in our counseling." All eyes were on me. My parents looked a little dazed, but also cautious.The judge is curious.I couldn't read what the lawyer was thinking, and Peterson showed his usual disdain.I focused on Dodge, and I was like a little harbor caught in a storm.He looked at me expectantly, waiting. I do not know what to do. I did the only thing I could think of: burst into tears. Right now, it's really amazing how much I cry.The crying was loud, the tears flowed sideways, and I was out of breath.I didn't mean to: I was nervous and was trying to hold back the tears. "I'm — freaked out," I mumbled, wiping my runny nose, "Ma — Martin and Darren and Emma all disappeared, and then Dodge —" I choked up and said no Speak up. "He was hurt, the fire was out, and I couldn't see what happened to him. I... I tried to light the fire, but my hands were shaking so much, I got lighter fluid all over my body, and then, I scratched Light the match—” My body was shaking violently, and it was difficult to even raise my hands, but I did.I held up my hand and saw the judge glance at my hand: misshapen and horribly scarred.He frowned. "Heather." Peterson was trying to hold my attention, but it was so easy to ignore him, I curled up and cried louder.Right now, I'm crying like I can't stop. "Heather, you never told about the man. You only told me about the ghost, remember? The ghost in the cairn." "I-I-" Countless thoughts flashed through my mind.Suddenly, I had a flash of inspiration. "I'm afraid he will come and catch me too!" I dared to look up, and saw one corner of Dodge's mouth slightly raised, as if he was smiling. If I could do it all over again, I'd be the one who fell and fell into a coma, and Dodge would be the one to save us both, I'm sure he wouldn't be as stupid as I am, he'd wait for me to wake up, before that Live his life leisurely.He must have done what I slowly learned to do: make up a story, make up a lie.Leave a hole and trust the cops to fill it with a monster they can understand.It could be a serial killer, or it could be a local lunatic.After all, who would doubt me if I didn't scream out loud about seeing monsters that no normal person would believe? It's just that I was a whole year late in realizing the epiphany.I can only hope that it is too late to make amends.Finally, I looked away from Dodge's face and looked at Judge McDowell. After all, my fate is in his hands.