TWO WEEKS LATER
I tried not to panic. No one was on my side now. It has been two weeks since Rolan had thrown me into the psychiatric facility. The change had been so swift as I was left defenseless, confessing everything that I had done.
Wilson had handed himself over to the pack police for the murder of Kirsten. His lawyer had argued that he had acted under the influence of the drug I was feeding him.
Hence he had only gotten a year's jail term. From what I heard, the doctors here discussing, I might actually be locked up in here for life.
“Mrs. Edna, I've come to give you your injections for the evening.” The nurse who has been taking care of me for the past two weeks, came in.
“Hello, Nurse Pat.” I greeted cheerfully, trying to be on my good behavior as a plan began to hatch
