'coffee tmrw?'

She read the message abstractedly, not paying her full attention to the words flashing on her cell phone.

Tahlia was lost so deep in her pondering, that she couldn't even process the fact that Dean Jackson was asking her out.

She finally decided to put her phone away, looking around the room inquisitively, noting the lack of furniture, except for the TV in the corner and the dingy couch that she was sitting on.

As she caught sight of the numerous brown boxes that lay scattered over the flooring, it suddenly struck her.

"You're leaving."

She asserted, taken aback for a moment.

It was at that moment, that the raven haired woman that Tahlia had been patiently waiting for to return, decided to finally make an appearance.

"I am."

Michelle Wilde stood placidly at the door frame, a box labelled as cutlery in her hands.

"Sacramento would be a nice change of air."

Tahlia almost didn't catch the darker undercurrent that her sentence carried.

"When do you leave?" She prodded.

"Just as soon as the investigation ends. Till then I'm staying at a friend's in Cape May. You know, the whole 'don't leave the state before investigation's over' thing."

She couldn't help but notice the little hints of panic in Michelle's tone, how she couldn't keep eye contact with her for more than a few seconds, or even the jittery body language.

It was like looking at her own reflection in a mirror .

Michelle was terrified out of her mind, there was no doubt in that.

With a deep breath, Tahlia began, "Have you told anybody?"

She didn't even have to elaborate for Michelle to immediately understand what she was talking about.

She shook her head as she brought the glass to her lips. "God, no. It's driving me nuts seeing people going on about their day all happy, not knowing..."

She trailed off, her eyes glossing up,

"I still can't get over what happened to Jordy." She blinked her eyes rapidly, to stop herself from tearing up.

For a brief second, Tahlia's mind conjured up the image of Michelle from that day, a crying mess to say the least.

But that's precisely what happens when a loved one is found cold dead on the floor. Every moment you spent with them, now nothing but an essence in your mind and soul.

And unfortunately, Tahlia knew about the feeling all too well.

Tahlia's fingers fidgeted with the fragile glass, "Why are they making us keep this thing a secret? Everyone deserves to know if a crazy serial killer is out there."

Her words made Michelle sigh,

"They have to keep it under wraps. If people knew that The Westfield Ripper was on loose, the public would go berserk."

"Yeah, but to lie to them? Chief Kennedy just talked about the murder in the press this morning and didn't even mention Logan. How are people supposed to be cautious if they don't even know who to be cautious of!?"

Michelle shook her head, "It's not just that.." She pinched her forehead, apprehension written wide and clear on her features.

"Look. If the word gets out, the state is going to get into a shitstorm."

Tahlia furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

Michelle looked at her discerningly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Honey, look. There are things you are too young to underst-"

"Michelle." Tahlia calmly sliced through her digressions. She brought her eyes up to hers, taking a deep breath.

"I spent two entire months with the man. I need to know."

Michelle gazed at her for a second, before sighing.

"Alright, but you can't breathe a word of this to anyone. And you most certainly didn't hear it from me, okay?"

Tahlia hurriedly nodded into agreement.

"They've been cutting down on costs. There is no money to maintain Westerly. It's basically only running on private donations."

"What?" Tahlia gritted.

Michelle looked away, not able to look into the young girl's stunned eyes anymore.

"Haven't you noticed? The building's practically falling apart. There's not enough staff or security for God's sake."

Not enough security?

She was reminded of the day when Logan Hunt had almost choked her to death.

"H-how could you?" She breathed abruptly.

It wasn't so much directed towards Michelle, but the people who had knowingly put her in the hazardous situation.

"It's never been a problem before."

Michelle stared at the crusty, high ceiling, "In the 7 years I've worked there, not one single patient was out of hand. The worst we had, was a man who thought that he was dead. But ever since he came.."

Something told Tahlia that the 'he' was a certain man with two different identities.

Twitching her fingers, she straightened up, as if her stance would grant her courage. "Dr. Richardson said he hadn't switched to Ian anytime while he was in the asylum?"

Michelle merely nodded.

"He was uncontrollable when he was brought here, I remember, such a young face. Injured the cops that brought him in even. But 3 months after his institutionalization, no one could even tell if he was remotely mentally ill. Talked wiser than his years, so.." She paused, searching for the right word, "..Articulate."

Michelle glanced at Tahlia finally, "He was going to be put on trial soon."

Tahlia's eyes widened astronomically.

"What? When?"

Michelle shook her head, "I really shouldn't be telling you this.." She trailed off, exhaling deeply.

"Please, Michelle. Please?"

Tahlia begged.

Michelle let out a small groan, throwing a hand in the air aimlessly.

"About a week before he.." She paused, clearing her throat.

"..Escaped, an official came to Westerly to talk to Dr. Richardson. Logan Hunt was proven stable enough to stand trial."

Tahlia listened carefully, mouth slightly parted.

"We all knew the outcome though. The only question was, lethal injection or electric chair."

Her words probably shouldn't have had the effect that they did on Tahlia.

She couldn't quite apprehend the fact that a person who she felt some sort of things for, was going to meet his end, quite inevitably reap what he had sown.

"Why did Westerly agree to the project? Knowing what we were getting ourselves into?" Her voice was slightly higher, perhaps to give off the illusion of dauntlessness.

Michelle stood up, turning to pace towards a plain wall.

"We weren't particularly happy about it. The board very much tried to oppose it.

But your professor is one tough lady."

Tahlia couldn't help but scoff at that, "I'm sorry, am I missing something? How can a University order an asylum around?"

"Remember what I told you about the donations? Well, the University is Westerly's biggest, most generous donor."

Is that even legal? Tahlia thought to herself.

It was utter madness. And she was not going to be a part of it.

She shot up from the couch, her nerves set on some sort of fire at the thought of the whole thing.

"I'm going to tell everyone the truth."

Michelle's eyeballs almost popped out of the sockets at her announcement.

"You can't! You'll get into trouble with the police. Not to mention the Non Disclosure Agreement you signed before the commencement of the assignment, you will get sued!" She chided vexedly.

Tahlia could barely hold her breath any longer, groaning internally at the predicament she had landed herself in.

"You knew there wasn't enough security, yet you put me in the same room as a mad murderer of 7 women?"

She was fuming.

But more importantly, petrified.

"I honestly don't know what to tell you honey."

There was a brief moment of tense, palpable silence in the air.

Tahlia parted her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it, remembering an important question she'd been meaning to ask.

"Um, Michelle?" She began, regaining the dark haired woman's attention.

"How's the investigation going? I mean, have they found any..evidence from the night..?"

She prayed for herself come across as collected and nonchalant about the question as humanly possible .

"I wouldn't know, the police don't really talk about the details during interrogations."

Tahlia sharply nodded, that wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for.

"What about the cameras?" She decided to push her luck.

"What about them?"

"D-does that mean you have the footage from the night he escaped?" Her coy question dripped with anxiety.

Michelle almost rolled her eyes at the question, "I know this sounds bad, but the last time one of those things actually worked is practically pre-historic. As long as the red light is on, no one really questions it."

Tahlia almost let out a loud sigh of relief.

"The medics found pills in his room. He had been spitting out 8 days worth of medication." Michelle went on, skittishness settling on her face now.

"With the whole camera thing and the key, the police think he had he-"

"Key?"

Tahlia's heartbeat stopped for a second, as she did a double take.

Michelle side eyed her, "He escaped through the back door. Someone must have had the key and they got it to him. Patients get checked before sleep, he didn't have it with him then."

Tahlia gasped.

The key.

Someone got into the sanatorium that night

Someone got the key to Logan Hunt.

She gripped the hands of the springy white couch, until her knuckles started resembling the very shade of the couch itself, as realization smacked her in the face.

The someone being none other than Tahlia Meyers herself.

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