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  Thirty more seconds, she told herself. And she started to count down. Twenty-nine... twenty eight... twenty seven...Suddenly the door on the right of the bathroom was flung open. Ariana's heart flew into her throat. Nurse Knight was twenty-six seconds early. Dammit. So much for that reliable-creature-of-habit theory.

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  The rotund nurse stepped into the hallway and started for the common room, her thick white shoes squeak-squeaking on the linoleum floor. Ariana had only seconds or her plan would be trashed. She couldn't wait until tomorrow night. Tomorrow night would be too late. It was either act now or keep waiting--keep rotting-- in the Brenda T.

  Spurred by pure adrenaline, Ariana yanked the bathroom door open and raced in silent, socked feet to a door marked medical PERSONNEL ONLY.

  It was about to click shut and auto-lock Ariana out. She flattened her hand against the door just as the metal of the latch touched the metal of the plate. The slight click sounded like an atom bomb explosion to Ariana, but she shoved into the room anyway. If Tracy or Nurse Knight were right behind her, so be it. She was not going to look back to find out.

  Ariana breathed in. Waited. Nothing. No one was coming for her. The first phase of her plan was complete. She had made it inside the Drug Den.

  The small, closetlike space felt like a meat locker, the air-conditioning jacked up so high her skin instantly began to tighten. All along one wall were metal cabinets with glass doors. Behind each door sat rows and rows of clear pill bottles, each filled to the brim with colorful little pills. Hundreds of thousands of little pills, all designed to keep the inmates under control, keep them sedated, keep them functioning like good little robots.

  Ariana felt a flash of anger. Saw herself yanking the cabinets from

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  the walls and tipping them over. Letting them crash and shatter and slam to the floor. Screw them for trying to control us. Screw them for thinking they know what's best.

  But that wasn't why she was here. She gripped her forearm and breathed:

  In... one... two... three...

  Out... one... two... three...

  In... one... two... three...

  Out... one... two... three...

  Until the fantasy faded away.

  Her mind cleared. She focused. She was wasting precious time.

  Ariana shoved open the sliding door on the first cabinet and quickly found a nice big bottle of the antianxiety drug Ativan. Thank God for alphabetization. She popped the top off and emptied at least fifty of the little white pentagonal pills into the bottom of her sneakers, then dumped the rest of the bottle into the garbage can. Holding her breath, she quickly rearranged the used paper towels and crumbled patient-care pages over the bottle to hide it, then shoved her feet into her now very uncomfortable shoes.

  She carefully closed the cabinet door and breathed in. The hard part, she felt, was over. She had beaten the system. It was all she could do to keep from grinning. Shoulders back, chest held high, Ariana strolled into the hallway, letting the drug room door click shut and lock automatically behind her. Nurse Knight was nowhere in sight, and Tracy was so wrapped up in the TV, Ariana had to knock on the door of the common room before the woman even

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  noticed her. When she did, she blanched, clearly realizing she'd fallen down on the job.

  "Feeling better, Osgood?" she asked, opening the door.

  "Much better, thanks," Ariana said with a pleasant smile. Her cheeks twitched, wanting to pull the smile wider, but she held back.

  "Good. Because that's your last bathroom break for the night," Tracy said sternly.

  Ariana walked into the common room, where the inmates were gathered on couches and chairs, reading or journaling or watching TV or staring off into space. She sat down between Kaitlynn and Crazy Cathy on one of the sofas.

  "Everything okay?" Kaitlynn asked. "You looked pale back there."

  "I'm fine," Ariana replied.

  "I think she's gonna win the million," Crazy Cathy said, taking a break from chewing on the collar of her shirt. "I think she's gonna win. I think she looks lucky."

  Ariana glanced at the TV screen and at the pretty housewife jumping up and down as she shouted out case numbers on a fluorescent stage. Normally, Ariana hated this stupid show and all the stupid people who never took the good deals when they were offered. Normally, she hated how Crazy Cathy always insisted every contestant was going to win. But tonight, somehow, none of it seemed as cloying. Tonight, as she sat with pills digging into the soft skin of her foot, all the dull predictability felt comforting. In fact, she was counting on it.

  "You know what, Cathy?" Ariana said. "I think she's going to win too."

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  AN ATTEMPT

  In the dead silence of night Ariana hit the floor with a thump, the side of her skull colliding with the cold concrete. Her shoulder exploded in pain. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of the final few pills skittering across the floor. And then:"Ariana? Ari?"

  Kaitlynn's voice filled the tiny cell. The light flicked on, a big after-hours no-no. "Oh my God. Ariana! What's wrong?"

  The bedsprings squealed and Kaitlynn was on her knees. Her cold hand touched Ariana's cheek. Ariana didn't flinch. Her breath came in short, barely audible gasps, her chest motionless.

  "Ariana! Can you hear me?"

  There was a crunch. Kaitlynn had just knelt on one of the pills.

  "What the hell--" There was a brief, satisfying pause. A rightly predicted pause. "Oh my God. Oh my God, no. No, no, no!"

  Kaitlynn wrenched Ariana's torso up off the floor. Ariana's head

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  lolled back over Kaitlynn's forearm. Her neck stretched painfully. Swallowing became impossible. Her body was heavy. So, so heavy. She felt her arms and legs go limp.

  "Ariana, wake up!" Kaitlynn battered Ariana's face with a quick succession of stinging slaps. "Wake up, Ari. Please!"

  Ariana opened her mouth and let it hang that way. That did the trick. Told Kaitlynn she was not about to rouse. Ariana's friend dropped her unceremoniously. Her spine cracked against the hard floor.

  That's going to leave a mark, Ariana thought."Guard!"

  Kaitlynn slammed both hands flat against the door and beat the surface.

  "Guard! Guard! I need help! It's Ariana! She's sick! Help! Help me please!"

  Kaitlynn started to cry. Choke and cry and wail. All the desperation was affecting her voice. In a minute she was going to be so overcome she wouldn't be able to shout anymore.

  Hold it together, Kaitlynn, Ariana silently pleaded.

  "Please! Please help!" Kaitlynn croaked.

  Then it started. First in Donna's room across the hall, then moving slowly from room to room on down. Everyone started to wake up. Started to grow restless from the commotion, wondering what was going on. Donna pounded on her door. Then Crazy Cathy got into the mix. Soon there was a whole chorus of shouting for the guards. Someone was singing. Another inmate slammed her own door with something much harder than her hands.

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  "Help! Help us! Please!"

  Soon, the telltale sound of heavy, running footsteps. Jangling keys. Shouted directions. All protocol, all predicted.

  "Stay on either side of the door," Tracy's voice told whichever guards were with her. "Hey! Shut up! Back to bed!" she shouted to the general population. "It's lights-out!"

  The inmates only grew more raucous.

  "Get back! Get back from the door!" Tracy shouted at Kaitlynn, sounding more in command than ever before. "Put your hands behind your head and face the wall on your knees!"

  "Okay! Just hurry up! Please!" Kaitlynn's accent was as thick as peanut butter as she followed Tracy's orders.

  The door was shoved open so hard it slammed back against the wall.

  "Holy shit," Tracy said.

  "Fuck. What did she take?" Miriam asked in the background. Apparently she was pulling a double shift today.

  "Looks like Ativan," Tracy said, dropping down n
ext to Ariana. "Get the doctor!"

  Ariana's left eye was pried open. The eyeball rolled right into the back of her head.

  "Shit. How much did she take?" Tracy shouted to Kaitlynn. She leaned over Ariana's body, placing her ear to Ariana's mouth. Short, weak breaths tickled her earlobe.

  "I don't know! She fell out of bed and woke me up," Kaitlynn cried. "Is she going to be okay?"

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  Ariana's arm was dropped and it smacked against the floor. Luckily, her delicate wrist didn't crack. Tracy stood up and spoke into the walkie-talkie attached to her shoulder strap.

  "We need a stretcher in cell number B twenty-two," she said. "She's breathing, but her pulse is weak."

  Kaitlynn's bedsprings creaked as she was allowed out of her submissive position. She started to cry again, the sound of her sobs muffled by her pajama sleeve.

  "Don't let her die. Please, God. Please don't take her away," Kaitlynn prayed.

  Ariana wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but now was obviously not the time. There was another commotion in the hallway. The room filled with emergency personnel. Someone stepped on Ariana's fingers.

  "We have an attempt. Get her to the infirmary now!" Tracy ordered. "She may need her stomach pumped."

  Ariana flinched. No one noticed, however, because they were too busy manhandling her onto a stretcher and elevating it until it popped up to waist level. These people needed to work on their bedside manners.

  The stomach pump. She'd known it would have to happen, but hearing Tracy say it brought the reality home. The tube, the pain, the retching. Kiran had described it all to her once, and it sounded like pure hell.

  But it was all part of her plan. The plan she'd been working on for too long for it to fail now. If I want to start over, I'm just going to have to

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  deal with it, Ariana thought dimly as the overhead lights of the hallway began to fly by at perfect two-second intervals. Hoping that no one was watching her, she finally dared to take one deep, calming breath, fighting off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her oxygen-deprived brain, I will deal with it. My new life depends on it.

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  NEXT TIME

  The fingers on Ariana's wrist felt like the icy cold harbingers of death. Ariana blinked slowly, groggily. A nurse was taking her pulse. The lights above her head were ugly, caged, fluorescent, and bright. Too bright. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut again, and took a breath.Her throat burned like a pit of fire. The convulsions threw her forward and her shoulder wrenched. Coughing uncontrollably, gasping for air, Ariana rolled her eyes around and found the heavy leather straps. Her wrists and ankles had been bound to the bed.

  No, no, no, no, no. Get them off of me! Get them off!Ariana wanted to scream at the startled nurse, but she couldn't even catch a breath. The memory of the stomach pumping rushed back to her. Being held down by two huge orderlies. The thick tube jammed into her throat, blocking out all air. She had tried to flail, tried to shove them off, but they had held her so firmly, like granite slabs lying on her arms and legs. She had thought she was going to die,

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  and for the first time wondered what she'd been thinking. Whether this was all worth it. Then, once the awful, humiliating retching was done, she had closed her eyes and let the darkness come.

  Tears spilled from Ariana's eyes and down into her ears. A woman placed her hand on Ariana's forehead and gently, but firmly, held her shoulders down. Colleen. It was Nurse Colleen. Ariana could barely make her out through the burning tears in her eyes, but this had been part of her plan--to land in the medical wing during Colleen's shift. She was the one semidecent person on the medical staff. The nurse brought a plastic cup full of cool water to Ariana's lips. Ariana gulped it down gratefully.

  Everything was okay. She was right where she was supposed to be. Everything was going according to plan. Slowly her pulse started to relax.

  "There you are... there you are... ," Colleen said, smoothing Ariana's brow with her fingers. The silver cross around Colleen's neck swung forward, hanging inches from Ariana's nose.

  "Not a very nice way to wake up," Colleen said with a sympathetic cluck of the tongue. "That's what happens when your stomachs pumped. Your throat will be no good for a couple of days."

  Ariana closed her eyes, calm spreading through her limbs. She could handle a little throat pain. The hard part was over now. In the past. It no longer mattered. This journey was all about the destination, not about the route she took to get there. All of this was happening for a reason. It was all part of her plan. She was in control--or as much as she could be, considering she was shackled like a zoo animal.

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  "What happened?" Ariana asked. Because that was what a person in her position should ask. Her voice was a croak, and the burning flared up again, but not as severely.

  "What happened is you tried to kill yourself," Colleen said, strapping a blood pressure gauge around Ariana's upper arm. "You took some pills, honey. But don't worry, we got them all out of your system. You're going to be okay." Colleen had a sweet, soothing voice, much like Ariana's mother's and her grandmother's. The kind Ariana would have liked to hear read a bedtime story when she was young. Colleen had age lines around her mouth and eyes, and her dark hair was graying around the temples, but Ariana could tell she had once been pretty. How she had ended up in the godforsaken Brenda T., Ariana had no idea. But then, there were a lot of people within these walls who had no business being there.

  "What day is it?" Ariana whispered, already knowing the answer.

  Colleen held two fingers over Ariana's wrist, taking her pulse. "Monday. July second."

  Perfect. Ariana looked around the tiny, white-walled room that would be her home for the next two days. There was a huge plate glass window next to her adjustable bed, affording a perfect view of the beach at the Philmore. The sun was just starting to come up and she could see the valets in their white pants and colorful polos arranging the lounge chairs and private tents for the guests. Ariana longed to be in one of those plush rooms across the lake, rather than inside this eight-by-eight box with its antiseptic stench and totally decoration-free walls.

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  Soon enough, she told herself. Just two more days. You're almost there. Almost there...

  The blood pressure gauge tightened around Ariana's bicep, then deflated. Colleen made a note on her clipboard, then looked into Ariana's eyes. She seemed sad. Disappointed.

  "Don't you know that your life is God's greatest gift?" she said.

  Ariana bit her tongue to hold back a flare of anger. Of course she knew that. Of course she did. That was what all this was about. It was the assholes who ran this place who didn't seem to understand how precious her life was. She turned her face away from Colleen as if shamed by her words, when, in fact, she was trying to hide the ire in her eyes.

  There was a quick rap on the door. Ariana glanced up as Colleen went to answer it. She caught a glimpse of Dr. Meloni's profile, framed by the high, square window in the door.

  Just what Ariana had been dreading. Her hands curled into fists beneath the thick straps. She straightened her head on the thin pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

  One last time. Just one last time...

  As the door opened and Dr. Meloni stepped inside, Ariana breathed in and out deliberately.

  In... one... two... three...

  Out... one... two... three...

  She could do this. She could deal with him. One last time.

  "Hello there, Ariana," he said stepping into view at the side of her bed. He looked at the restraints on her wrists and smirked. "Comfy?"

  "Why am I tied up?" She wished her voice didn't sound so uneven,

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  so weak. She tried to make up for it with her eyes. Tried to stare right through him.

  "You attempted to take your own life," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "This is standard procedure. We can't risk that you might try to harm yours
elf again. Or others."

  He glanced over his shoulder. Nurse Colleen was still in the hallway, chatting with one of the orderlies. Dr. Meloni leaned in toward Ariana's ear. So close she could smell his disgustingly spicy aftershave, see the spot he'd missed on his neck while shaving. Ariana had to force herself not to squirm in her restraints.

  "But here's the thing, Ariana. You didn't take enough pills to do any kind of damage. And do you know what I think?" He looked into her eyes. "I think you knew that. I think this whole thing was a farce. I think you're just a pathetic, spoiled little brat who couldn't get her way and wanted to get my attention."

  Ariana pressed her lips together as a hot fury bubbled up inside of her. Of course she had known she wasn't taking enough pills to actually kill herself, but she hated that he had figured that out so easily. Not that she would ever admit it.

  "I told you I just wanted it to be over," she said, looking him in the eye. "You didn't listen."

  Meloni snorted a laugh. "Fine. You want it to be over so badly, then I have just one thing to say to you, Ariana," Dr. Meloni continued, standing up straight now. "Next time, try harder."

  Ariana blinked. As much as she detested this man, as awful as she knew he was, this was a new level of sadism.

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  "Fine," she said through her teeth. "I will."

  The door opened and Dr. Meloni lifted Ariana's chart from the end of her bed, pretending he had been going over it the whole time--faking it for Colleen. Ariana hated him more than ever in that moment. He was the doctor, the one in charge. He didn't have to mug for the nurse. This little charade did nothing but display his inner weakness. Ariana had always known it was there, but seeing it so plainly disgusted her.

  "Just get some rest, Miss Osgood," Meloni said in a bright tone. "We'll have a nice, long session once you're off suicide watch. Talk all this through."

  Or so you think, Ariana thought.