Chapter 231 Prison Break

Chapter 231 Prison Break
Marisa POV

Days blurred into weeks. I lost track of time in this sterile hellhole they called a "psychiatric facility."

Judith and I had been trapped here for what felt like eternity, and Gunnar still hadn't come to get us out. He promised he would. Where was he?

Today, I finally gathered enough courage to ask.

"Excuse me," I called to a nurse passing by my room, trying to sound as sane as possible. "Has Gunnar called about my release?"

The nurse—heavyset with frizzy red hair—looked at me with undisguised contempt. "Gunnar? Which Gunnar would that be, honey?"

I straightened my back, feeling my face contort with anger. "Gunnar Pierce," I snarled. "The Gunnar Pierce of Pierce Enterprises. One of Bayville's most prominent businessmen!"

The nurse's expression shifted from contempt to something like amusement. Several other nurses at the station looked up, exchanging glances.

"Oh, that Gunnar," Red Hair said with a smirk. "He's been quite popular lately."

My heart leapt. Gunnar must have succeeded.

"I knew it," I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. "Has he completely absorbed Sullivan Industries yet? Is the Sullivans finally ruined?"

The nurses exchanged another look, and then Red Hair burst into laughter. "Oh honey, you really don't know, do you? He has been locked up for some time now. Embezzlement, conspiracy, attempted murder—the whole package."

"No," I whispered, backing away. "That's impossible."

"Wait, aren't you his sister?" another nurse suddenly chimed in. " You people are something else, aren't you? One in the psychiatric ward, one in prison. What a family."

"You're lying," I said, my voice rising. "Gunnar's plan was perfect. He was going to destroy Diana and take over Sullivan Industries!"

The nurses were openly laughing now.

"Here," Red Hair said, pulling out her phone. "Look for yourself. The Pierce empire is gone, honey."

The headline swam before my eyes: [PIERCE HEIR SENTENCED TO 25 YEARS FOR EMBEZZLEMENT, CONSPIRACY, AND ATTEMPTED MURDER.]

And the images showed the Pierce building with signs announcing "FUTURE SITE OF BAYVILLE MEDICAL CENTER" plastered across the entrance.

"No!" I screamed, lunging for her phone. "That should be Sullivan Industries! Diana should be the one in handcuffs! Did Bradley divorce her? Tell me he divorced her!"

The nurses backed away, and Red Hair pressed a button on the wall.

"She's losing it again," she said to someone through an intercom. "We need to up her dosage."

I felt strong hands grabbing me from behind. Orderlies. I thrashed against them, screaming about Diana and Bradley and how it should have been me in that mansion, me wearing those diamonds.

"Get the Thorazine," someone said. "And prep her for ECT tomorrow morning."

They dragged me to the treatment room and strapped me down. I continued to scream and thrash as they injected something into my arm.

The electroconvulsive therapy was worse than anything I could have imagined. They put a rubber block in my mouth so I wouldn't bite my tongue off when they sent electricity coursing through my brain.

Judith, too, got the same treatment. Day after day, they strapped us down and shocked us into submission.

At night, I would hear Judith sobbing in her room across the hall. Sometimes I sobbed too, but mostly I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Gunnar was in prison. Pierce Enterprises was gone. And I was stuck in this place with no hope of rescue.

Eventually, clarity began to return. Not the delusional clarity of believing I was meant to be with Bradley, but the cold, hard clarity of reality. I was never getting out of here unless I played by their rules.

So I started taking my medication without fighting. I participated in group therapy. I nodded along to whatever the psychiatrists said and repeated their words back to them like a good little patient.

I shared my plan with Judith one night during our brief recreational period.

"We have to get better," I whispered to her. "Or at least pretend to. It's the only way they'll ever let us out."

Judith nodded, her once-beautiful face now gaunt and hollow. "And then what?"

"And then we find our way back. We rebuild. We get revenge."

Just as we were settling into our routine of fake recovery, a new patient arrived who threw everything into chaos. Renata.

I heard the nurses talking about her as they brought her in. Apparently, she'd enraged the wife of some big shot. They didn't say the name, but I knew it had to be Bradley. Diana had finally managed to get Renata locked away, too.

I tried to talk to her during recreation time, thinking we might clear the air and form a new alliance. But Renata was beyond reason. Some days she would just rock back and forth, muttering "forgive me, forgive me" over and over. Other days, she would fly into a rage, screaming that she would kill Diana if it was the last thing she ever did.

She was worse than Judith and me combined. Whatever they'd done to break her, it had worked all too well.

So I kept my head down and continued my act, waiting for an opportunity—if any—to escape this nightmare.

And then, like an answer to my unspoken prayers, nature intervened.

The once-in-a-century solar storm arrived. The power went out first, plunging the facility into darkness. Then came the wind, howling like a living thing, tearing at the building's structure. When the first section of the roof collapsed, panic erupted.

In the chaos, I saw my chance. I grabbed Judith's hand, and we ran for the emergency exit, now unguarded as the staff scrambled to evacuate patients.

We were almost to the tree line when I heard someone calling Diana's name. I turned to see Renata charging toward us, her eyes wild, her hospital gown flapping around her thin frame.

"Diana!" she screamed, looking straight at Judith. "You ruined everything!"

Before I could react, Renata tackled Judith, her hands closing around my friend's throat. I tried to pull her off, but the three of us lost our balance on the muddy hillside. We tumbled down together, a tangle of limbs and hatred, until we hit the jagged rocks at the bottom.

The crack I heard when they landed would haunt me forever. Both of them lay still, their necks at impossible angles, their empty eyes staring at the storm-filled sky.

I was alone now. Truly alone.

I scrambled away from the bodies, away from the facility, away from the sirens and the searchlights cutting through the darkness. I ran until my lungs burned and my bare feet bled.

For days, I lived like an animal, sleeping under bridges, scavenging for food in dumpsters, stealing clothes from charity donation bins. I found newspapers to use as bedding, and that's where I saw it—a full-page spread about Bradley and Diana Booth renewing their vows in a lavish ceremony.

The photo showed them dancing, both of them smiling like they were the only two people in the world.

I stared at that picture for hours, memorizing every detail, feeding my hatred until it was the only thing keeping me warm.

It was all her fault. She'd stolen my man. She'd driven Renata insane. She'd indirectly caused Judith's death. She'd reduced me to this—pathetic, homeless, without a single ally left in the world. And instead, she was sharing a bed with Bradley, surrounded by their children, living a happy life.

I folded the newspaper and placed it inside my stolen jacket, close to my heart. It would be my reminder that Diana must suffer hell.

I would kill her and those stupid children of hers. They all had to pay.