The reckoning came.
When the asylum director was led away, his face was the color of death. Unlawful detention. Patient abuse. Falsified medical records. Taking bribes. Once, he had stood in front of me with his nose in the air and said, "Ms. Whitmore, the Locke family has had a word with us. We're only following procedure." Now he knelt in the interrogation room, weeping and begging for my forgiveness. I only watched him for a moment through the one-way glass. Then I turned and walked out.
The doctors, nurses, and bodyguards who had taken part in torturing Daisy were dragged out one by one. The waiters who had drugged us at the engagement party were sentenced. The people who had faked the video and played it on the screen were uprooted entirely. Inside the Locke family, the staff who ha
