The Pale Dance
The intake form listed forty-two hours of mandatory observation before the first review, a number that Elias Thorne had counted on his fingers until the knuckles swelled and the skin whitened at the joints, a tally that felt less like a duration and more like a debt accruing interest in the sterile, white-walled isolation ward of St. Jude’s Psychiatric Facility. He sat across from Dr. Aris, a...
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