I was getting out of here today. I needed to believe that.

My plan had to work; I’d been careful. I’d been on my best behaviour.

Right now, I needed to keep busy so I wouldn’t keep stressing about what the doctor would say or do or think.

Looking around the large rec room, I thought about watching TV for a while, but I wouldn’t be able to sit still.

My nerves were jangling, but I managed to set the balls up on the pool table in the corner.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply and let it out slowly. Concentrated on projecting calm. A scene at the beach played through my mind. A place Mum took me to when I was twelve.

I opened my eyes and hit the cue ball, watching the balls scatter. Seeing the randomness of the first shot always fascinated me.

Jim was watching TV with a silly grin on his face on the other side of the rec room.

Maria was looking out the windows at some pigeons on the lawn. She loved the birds. Said they didn’t talk back.

Melanie was sitting quietly in a corner lounge, staring at the TV. She was always quiet, but I couldn’t blame her with the trauma she’d suffered. The staff said she’d be alright, in time.

Mrs Dawson was staring at her knitting. I wasn’t sure whether she was off with the fairies or if she was deciding what to make next. Her fourteen-year-old granddaughter, Nellie, sat on the floor at her feet, just happy to be spending time with her.

Her true dedication made me smile.

Quiet music played through the speakers in the ceiling and fake plants sat either side of the four-foot fish tank, giving everything a false sense of normalcy.

But this was anything but normal and I didn’t belong here. The urge to escape grew stronger each day.

Mr Jones gave me two thumbs up. Mrs Carpenter gave me words of encouragement. I allowed myself a small smile and totally ignored them both.

They walked out into the garden together, smiling and waving. I didn’t look at them directly and didn’t respond, but inside, my heart swelled. They understood how important the next hour was to me.

Turning my attention back to the table, I tried to decide which ball I would go for. It was hard to concentrate, but I managed to make it look like I was just taking my time to pick the perfect shot.

The smell of beef and onion wafted to me from the kitchen and made me wish it was dinner time already.

Jim laughed at something on the TV, making me jump.

A voice in my mind whispered that my plan wouldn’t work, that I’d never get out of here.

I shook my head.

Focus.

The butterflies in my stomach were having a party. The clock on the wall told me it was almost two o’clock.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Mrs Dawson started to moan and I cringed. Her knitting was on the floor and she rocked back and forth. “Nellie? Where’s my Nellie?”

No. Not again. Not now.

I didn’t want to have to deal with this; I had other things to concentrate on. I needed to keep my head clear.

She started to cry. “Nellie?”

I laid the pool cue across the table carefully and retrieved her knitting from the floor. “It’s okay, Mrs Dawson. Nellie isn’t here today,” I told her. I tried not to look at Nellie while I said it.

“I want my Nellie. She said she’d be coming to see me. Where’s her mother? I’ll give that woman a piece of my mind. How could she not bring Nellie in to see me?”

I wished I could explain, but that would just make things worse. “It’s okay. She’ll bring her soon.”

“No. She won’t. She never does.”

“Here’s your knitting.” I put her half-made scarf into her hands and put a hand on her arm. Nellie put her hand next to mine and Mrs Dawson seemed to calm down. It was as if she could sense her there.

“It’s alright now,” I whispered. “Nellie loves you. She wishes you well.” I looked sideways at Nellie. “Nellie wants you to be happy. She doesn’t want you to be upset.”

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Mrs Dawson looked up at me. “Okay.”

Nellie sniffed, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you.”

I smiled.

“Nearly time.”

I flinched at the sound of Nurse Janice’s voice and resisted the urge to say something snarky. I had to be nice. Even to her.

I stood and attempted a casual smile. “Yep.”

She was the last person I wanted to see right now.

She looked down at Mrs Dawson. “She having another tantrum?”

I scowled. “No. She does not have tantrums. She’s just pining for Nellie.”

The smirk on her face grew. “Like I said. Tantrum.”

I pressed my hands to my thighs to keep them from clenching into fists. How could she be so cruel?

She raised an eyebrow. “It won’t work,” she said, and I was thrown by the sudden change in subject. “You won’t be able to fool him, you know. You’re not fooling me. You’ve just been telling us what you think we want to hear and I don’t believe you for a second.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and left.

My heart pounded out a steady drumbeat. I had to remind myself that she wouldn’t have seen anything suspicious as I didn’t actually say anything directly to Nellie.

But what if she was right about Dr Calthorpe? What if none of them were fooled? What if I’d been caught talking to imaginary people out in the garden? What if—?

Calm down. She’s only trying to rile you. You got this.

I took some more deep breaths.

This had to work. I had to get out of here. I had a life to get back to. Admittedly, I no longer had a job, but I could get another one.

I missed Mum. I missed Alina.

Mrs Dawson had gone back to her knitting and I sighed heavily.

I looked at the clock on the wall again. Almost time. The hands were moving so slowly that I wanted to break the glass on the front and make them move faster. I just wanted this over with.

I wanted to go home.

Things would be difficult at first because Mum had supported their decision to put me in here. I hadn’t quite forgiven her for that, but that awkwardness would still be better than being stuck in here.

Anything was better than being stuck in here.

I didn’t belong.

If I really was delusional, this would be the perfect place for me. The therapy sessions I’d had with Dr Calthorpe were designed to help me deal with seeing things that weren’t there as well as dealing with the trauma of being hit by a car and the injuries and scars left behind — and they had really helped me with those things — but these people I could see were real.

I didn’t need any medical help; it was an ability I had and no amount of therapy or antipsychotic drugs would make it go away. I should know. They’d tried it all.

Another look at the clock told me it was time. One of the nurses should be calling my name any second.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. I tried to slow my breathing.

This was it.

This was my chance. I had what I was going to say planned out in my head.

The tingling sensation I always felt whenever a spirit was near ramped up a few notches, which meant that Nellie wasn’t the only one here. Someone started yelling somewhere out in the hall. My stomach clenched and I spun around to see what was going on. It was a male voice I didn’t recognise. I frowned.

His frantic voice grew louder. He was calling out to people and asking if they could see him or hear him and my heart sank.

No…

He was a newbie.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a huge breath. No, no, no, no, no. Not now…

I hated it when the newly-departed were panicking because they didn’t know they were dead. They ran around trying to get people’s attention and it was almost impossible to ignore them. I felt for them, but at the same time, if I talked to them, I got myself into trouble.

And talking to this guy would get me into a buttload of trouble right now. I had gone to great lengths to prove I wasn’t delusional.

I had to ignore him.

Somehow.

I walked back to the pool table and tried to act natural. Picked up my cue stick. Which ball could I go for? There was a clear shot into a corner pocket at the other end of the table, so I moved around there, conveniently putting my back to the rec room door. That way I wouldn’t be tempted to look at him as he entered.

As I leaned over the table, I could feel his presence as goosebumps broke out on my skin and the tingling sensation increased.

I took a deep breath and lined up my shot, gritting my teeth against the urge to look. I needed to see him. I couldn’t help myself. Curiosity was eating at me, resonating through every fibre of my being.

Every second that passed was torture. I was dying to look. I had to see.

He called to Mrs Dawson, who kept on knitting. I could see them in my peripheral vision and kept my eyes on the gardens outside.

Nellie didn’t respond to him either. Maybe she didn’t want to be the one to break the news to him.

He moved on to Jim and I tensed up some more. He was getting closer. I closed my eyes. I had to be strong.

I opened them again and focused. Lined up the shot. Hit the ball. Watched it roll across the table and slowly make its way to the pocket. It was going to hit the cushion and—

“Maddelyn?”

I spun around at the sound of Nurse Holly’s sweet voice and came face-to-face with a dark-haired guy around my age with intense brown eyes and I sucked in a breath.

He was staring straight at me, and he was gorgeous.

And young. Too young to die.

My heart squeezed in my chest and tears stung my eyes, but I quickly looked away, focusing on Holly’s face. “Yes?”

“Hey!” he called. “You looked at me! You can see me!”