feeling. Liam’s accusation came out of left field. She had barely talked to Finn or Liam since the front yard incident, so why the hell would she think it would be okay to visit them in the hospital and “take advantage” of them? That was completely asinine.
“Are you losing your mind?” Sophie said, before she could stop herself.
“No, I’m finally seeing clearly,” Liam said, as Finn kept a firm grasp on his shoulder. “We don’t need your ‘assistance’,” Liam said, while using air quotes. “I think it’s time you move on Sophie. Both Finn and I are trying to move on with our lives and we don’t need you showing up at the hospital while our dad is in a coma, putting on a show for all the nurses and staff to see so they can spread the word about Sophie and the O’Leary boys; we’re still trying to get you out of our life, we don’t need you poking your head in again.”
“Fuck you both,” Sophie said, as she turned on her heel and walked towards the elevator. She knew that must have done it because she never swore, never, and they knew that.
Humiliation once again filled Sophie’s body as she was stared down by every hospital worker on the third floor on her walk of shame. Whispering followed her departure as she headed toward the elevators. She briefly turned around and saw everyone looking at her with a mixture of pity and disgust in their eyes.
That was it, Sophie thought as she pushed the down button. She was done with the O’Learys. No matter what happened, she was still going through with her plans. They clearly didn’t care about her, so why the hell would she care about them?
“Soph, ya okay?” Murphy said, as he hopped in the elevator right before it closed on him.
She turned toward the brawny Irishman and said, “We are going to crush them. They are dead to me.”
***
“How are you adjusting to your new surroundings?”
Neala sat in a chair that was, by far, the most uncomfortable chair on the planet. She thought about tossing it through the window, but considered a different alternative since that would probably guarantee her a couple more weeks in the looney bin she was currently holed up in.
Instead, she plastered on a fake smile and said, “Oh, I’m adjusting quite well, thank you.”
It almost pained her to be so fake. The read-headed bitch that was sitting across from her was far more irritating than Phil the Quack, if that was possible.
The facility her parents put her in was horrific. Yeah, it was new; she had her own room and she was allotted time on the built-in iPad that was encased into a desk in the entertainment room, but it was so…sterile. Would it kill them to dress up the walls and add other pictures on the walls besides annoying geometric shapes that any “artist” could create? The whole facility was depressing as fuck, not that she needed to be more depressed.
“Neala, I asked how are the meds working?”
Snapping out of her thoughts, she looked at the fire crotch and answered, “Haven’t felt much of a change.”
That was the truth. They put her on new medication, hoping it would help her, but she had yet to feel anything change. Yes, it had only been two days, but she expected to feel like a different woman. She longed to feel like a different woman. It was killing her that she had let her illness take over her life, ruin her marriage and take her daughter away from her…temporarily, at least, since she was in this godforsaken “retreat.” Retreat, her ass. That was just a fancy way of saying a place to stuff the crazies.
“It might take a little while for your body to adjust. In the meantime, have you talked to your husband? How is he feeling?”
Neala’s head snapped up once again at the mention of her husband.
“Why the hell are you asking about him?”
Fire crotch adjusted in her seat as she tried to soak in the tone in Neala’s voice.
“It says in your file that you are married; you
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