Read The Beckoning of Broken Things (The Beckoning Series) for Free Online Page A

substances? “How’s your life of subterfuge and intrigue?” I shovel a mushy bite of veggies into my cotton-filled mouth. These drugs make my mouth feel like the Sahara desert.
    “Intriguing. ” He carefully positions his plate, his silverware, and his glass on the table. “Dr. B is going to have a private session with you tonight.” His eyes dart around the room. “Watch yourself.” He forks a bite of turkey and chews it thoughtfully. “Your visit today seemed pretty intense.”
    I sigh. “Yeah. Yours did, too.”
    “That was my brother. I was telling him what goes on in here. He didn’t like what he heard, but then, well…” He shrugs. “He put me in here.” He stabs another morsel of turkey and holds it in the air. “That was the first time he’s been to see me.”
    “In how long? You never did tell me how long you’ve been in here.”
    His face snaps shut like a shutter closing over the window for winter. He puts the bite of turkey in his mouth and chews. “A while…” he says, through the chewed food.
    “So what happens in a private session? What should I watch for?”
    Rafe’s eyes scan the room again. “Anything can happen.”
    “What kind of anything?”
    “Just watch yourself, Marissa. These opportunities aren’t always what they seem.” Rafe eyes me thoughtfully, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes flit to the doorway behind me, and he, and everyone else in the room, sits up taller and quiets.
    I pivot my head to see Dr. Bellows marching in the room, a benevolent smile stretched across his face , like he’s the pope. I wonder if we are expected to kiss his ring.
    “Eat, eat,” he says to us all. “Don’t let me stop you.” He makes a beeline over to my table. “Ms. Engles. How are you adjusting?”
    I frown and push my plate away. “Adjusting to what?”
    “Life here. Your new medications.” He leers and places his palms on the table, effectively putting himself between me and Rafe like a barrier.
    “Y’all are obsessed with how I’m feeling, adjusting, and getting on around here. I’m not happy being here. It’s that simple. My story hasn’t changed.” I stand and prepare to carry my dishes over to the window to the kitchen. There are workers in there, swiftly grabbing the soiled plates, food remains, crumpled napkins, and shoving the dishes and silverware into an industrial dishwasher.
    Dr. Bellows grabs my arm. “I haven’t finished what I was going to say.”
    I wrench my arm free before sparks fly. “Finish then. I’m sure I have something else more interesting to do.” I rub the place that he grabbed.
    “That’s just it. I’ve scheduled a private, one-on-one session with you. You’ll find me in my office. Come in…” He glances at his watch. “Come in 30 minutes.” He pushes away from the table, satisfied. “Rafe,” he says, acknowledging him for the first time. “Your session will be after hers. We need to work more on restoring your wholesomeness through therapy. You’re coming along nicely.” He smiles, but it’s just the muscles of his face moving into a new position. There’s no warmth there.
    Rafe’s cheeks flame red , and he stares at his plate. “Be nice to her,” he mumbles.
    “I’m always nice.”
    I stare at the two men, sliding my eyes from one to the other. Rafe is contemplating his uneaten food. Dr. Bellows is contemplating Rafe. His expression is neither wholesome nor therapeutic as far as I can see. “Well, then,” I say. “I’ll see you in 30. See ya, Rafe,” I add, and saunter out of the room.
    I enter my room and pace. A private session with that prick? What if I skip it? What can he do? I’m starting to wear a trench into the floor when All Smiles enters. He looks like he’s about to go to a funeral.
    “Ms. Engles?” he says.
    I’ve never seen him look so sad. “Who died?”
    He must not have been aware that he look ed so gloomy. The smile resumes, his face brightens, and he gestures to me to follow