He impatiently held the flimsy white gown out to me. "You've got to change."
I crossed my arms and faced forward, glaring into the large leather chair he had been sitting in before he'd gone in search of my new clothes. I took a breath, not bothering to rub the tears from my cheeks or the snot drooling from my nose.
"Miss Gallagher, I must insist—"
"I am not Miss Gallagher," I snapped. "I am Lady Gallagher, and I demand to be released from this institution immediately."
He sighed tiredly. "For the fifth time, you cannot wear a ballgown for the duration of your stay—"
"For the fifth time," I ground between clenched teeth, "I am not crazy." My voice shook, my hands trembled, my breathing shuddered. I pushed an unruly curl out of my face as I kept my eyes locked on the chair. I was sure my appearance was doing nothing to convince the man that I was sane, but I couldn't allow him to get that disgusting white dress on me. If he did...
The man—whom I had come to think of simply as The Warden— said, "Miss Gall—"
I whipped my head around and nailed him with the most venomous stare I'd ever mustered.
He ignored it. "Miss Gallagher," he insisted, "I know this is coming as a bit of shock, but you must calm down. A woman with your condition—"
"I do not have a condition!" I burst. "I am a perfectly normal human being, and I do not think wanting to be removed from this treacherous place suggests anything to the contrary!"
The Warden's brown eyes hardened, and he lowered the gown in his outstretched hand. "You will put this dress on. Or I am going to have to start treating you as a difficult patient."
I frowned at him. "I want to see Carter and Nathaniel before I do anything else."
"As I've already explained, you will see them tomorrow in the common room."
"I do not want to wait until tomorrow. I want them brought to me right now."
He only held up the terrible white hospital gown again in response, his thin lips thinning further.
There was so much white in the room that it was nearly blinding—the white of his uniform, the white of the gown I was supposed to wear, the white of the walls, the white of the desk, the chair, the blinds, the floor... "Put this on," he ordered. "Now."
I knew what kind of place this was. I knew what awaited me if I put on that white dress, if I relented, if I allowed myself to be dragged off into this madhouse. And whatever was behind the pristine white door next to The Warden was going to be much worse than whatever threats this man made.
I clenched my jaw, digging my nails into the skin of my biceps. "No."
He chucked the gown on the desk. "Have it your way, Miss Gallagher." He crossed to the office door and pulled it open.
Two men dressed in identical white uniforms entered, waiting for instructions. The Warden gestured to me with a spindly arm. "Our newest patient is expected on the second floor and has yet to change."
The two men nodded in unison and then stalked closer to me.
I started, lurching out of my chair and backing away. "What are you doing?"
One man grabbed my arm and jerked me forward so hard that pain lanced up my bicep. I tried to smack him off, but he just caught my other arm in his meaty hand and pinned them both to my sides, holding me immobile against him.
