They all thought she was as crazy as a loon and more than half as stupid. She wasn’t. Riley knew that she wasn’t stupid … knew that she wasn’t crazy either. Safe. She was safe here. She was warm and had food and wonderful drugs to keep her from thinking too deeply about the things she saw when she looked too far into the shadows. She was perfectly fine with them thinking she was crazy, because as long as they thought so, she got to stay in this nice, safe, white, padded room with the doors locked securely on her side. Oh, yes, crazy was good. Coming out of her thoughts a bit, Riley looked at the screen that took up a corner in the common room of the institute she had holed herself up in for months and felt fear frizzle her nerves. She bit her lower lip as she watched the scene play out before her. It wasn’t right. She tilted her head, questioning everything that was on the screen. It made her sick, actually. She was happy to see the image change to something else. The news story about a sinkhole in Montana was skewed.
