Chapter 132 Another Clue

Chapter 132 Another Clue


A few days passed, but the hospital still felt like the center of my entire world.

Every afternoon after school, I found myself walking through those same familiar doors, carrying my backpack over one shoulder and pretending I wasn't counting the minutes until I could see Dylan.

He was still hospitalized and probably had a couple more days left before being discharged.

The doctors said he was improving, but they wanted to keep him under observation for a little longer. His condition was stable, and that was the only word I had learned to hold onto.

He was alive, and that was more than enough.

When I entered his room that afternoon, Dylan was sitting slightly upright against the pillows, staring at his phone with an expression of intense concentration.

I paused at the doorway. "You look so serious."

He immediately looked up from his phone.

His expression softened. "You're late."

I glanced at the clock. "I'm only five minutes late."

"Exactly." He said in a bored tone.

I rolled my eyes as I walked fully into his ward.

"Somehow, you've survived getting shot, surgery, and several days in a hospital, but five minutes without me nearly finished you off." I teased.

He smiled. "I swear those five minutes were brutal."

I chuckled as I dropped my backpack onto the chair. "You're ridiculous."

He shrugged lightly. "But I'm glad you came anyway."

"Of course I did."

His smile widened.

Then I slowly walked over to the bed and sat beside him.

Everything felt normal again.

We discussed a variety of topics, switching subjects a few times.

We talked about school.

He complained about his teammates.

I told him Brian had apparently become convinced that he was the only person capable of keeping Brookwood's soccer team functioning.

Dylan laughed. "Brian thinks he's a coach."

"He probably thinks he can do a better job than your actual coach." I joked.

Dylan smirked. "He definitely does."

I smiled.

Then the door opened.

Talk of the devil, and he appears wearing dark jeans and a blue shirt.

Brian stepped inside the room with an odd expression.

I couldn't tell what was wrong, but he definitely wasn't smiling.

That immediately made me sit up straighter.

Dylan raised a brow at him.

"Dude," Dylan said, "you look like someone just stole your lunch." He teased but Brian ignored him.

Okay, that was weird.

Before I could ask Brian what happened, his eyes went straight to me.

Brian furrowed his brows. "Reet, can I talk to you?"

My smile disappeared as I looked at Dylan before I returned my gaze to Brian.

"Sure." I muttered under my breath.

I stood quickly.

Dylan frowned. "What's going on?"

Brian hesitated. "I'll explain later."

That answer only made me more nervous.

I followed Brian into the hallway and waited until he closed the door behind us.

Then I folded my arms. "Okay. What happened?"

Brian looked around before lowering his voice.

"I found Miranda. I've been following her movements."

I raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

I stared at him. “Wait, you've been following her?"

He moved away from me a little before he spoke again. "Not directly."

I rolled. "Brian, now is not the time for you to be cryptic with your statement."

"Okay, maybe sometimes… directly." He blurted.

I sighed.

He continued before I could lecture him. "I've been watching where she goes, who she meets, and where she spends her time."

"And?" I questioned.

Brian hesitated.

"Miranda visits a psychiatric hospital." He said quietly like he was still trying to understand it.

I blinked. "What?"

He nodded. "You heard me, Reet. She visits a psychiatric hospital."

I stared at him. "No way."

Why would she?

"Reet…"

"No." I shook my head immediately. "That doesn't make sense and you know it."

He nodded again. "I know."

Then I sighed. "Maybe you must have followed the wrong person."

He frowned. "I didn't."

"Maybe someone who looks like her?" I suggested.

"Reet."

He stepped closer. "I checked properly."

I shook my head again. "No..."

Brian looked at me carefully. "I found out she's been going there repeatedly."

My stomach twisted into knots as I ran a hand through my hair. "But why?" I asked.

"I don't know yet."

I stared at him.

My mind immediately began connecting things I didn't want to connect.

Miranda's sudden mood changes.

The strange way she could switch from laughing to furious.

The things she'd said at the hospital.

The pill container.

My eyes widened slightly. "Brian..."

He noticed. "What?"

"The pills." I whispered without intending to.

His expression changed. "Exactly my point."

I swallowed. "But do you think she went there for herself?"

"I think we need to find out."

I shook my head slowly. "No way."

Brian frowned. "You keep saying that."

"Because Miranda can't..." I struggled to finish.

"She can't be..."

Crazy?

A psychiatric patient?

I didn't even know what I was trying to say that would make sense in my ears.

I wasn't a doctor.

I didn't know what her visits meant and I didn't want to turn something serious into another explanation for everything horrible she had done.

Brian softened his voice. "Reet, I'm not saying this explains what she did."

I looked at him. "Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying there's something about Miranda that we don't fully understand yet and we seriously need to figure it out." He said firmly.

Then I looked toward Dylan's hospital room.

My thoughts became tangled.

Miranda had hurt Dylan.

She had manipulated me.

She had controlled Kevin.

She had spent years hiding her identity.

And now Brian was telling me she had been repeatedly visiting a psychiatric hospital.

It was too much.

"I don't believe it," I whispered. “I'm honestly struggling to.”

Brian sighed. "I didn't think you would."

I looked back at him.

Brian watched me carefully. "Whatever is going on with her, we need to know the truth."

I hugged my arms around myself.

I didn't answer him because somewhere beneath all my anger toward Miranda, a tiny, uncomfortable thought had begun forming inside my head.

Maybe there was something about her story that I still hadn't heard and I had a feeling that the answer was going to distort everything.

I thought about the pills.

What if…