Lucas Ford's morning began with a glob of spit landing on his cheek. His stepmother, still recovering from a stroke, glared at him with glassy, hateful eyes.
"You made it too hot, you dumb boy."
Her voice rattled like rusted metal.
Lucas inhaled slowly, swallowing his frustration. He wiped the porridge from his face, then from the front of his nurse uniform, trying not to show that familiar sting.
Across the table, Alan chuckled through a mouthful of breakfast.
"You should have expected that, Lucas. You are a nurse, aren't you? You are trained for this."
He shook his head and continued eating with his wife and daughter, as if his comment counted as morning entertainment.
Karina smirked, tossing her hair back.
"Maybe Uncle is finally going crazy from working in that psychiatric ward. No offense, but the job doesn't really pay well."
"That's why you still don't have a place of your own, right? You could just take care of Grandma full time. At least you'd be useful."
"Don't be rude like that, Karina. Daddy also works in the same hospital as him. But you have a point, that's why you need to study more so you won't end up in the bottom of society like him."
Alan shook his head, as if he was seeing the most pathetic things on this planet which was wrong.
What's wrong with becoming a nurse? They were as important as doctors or any health care providers, a profession that needed to be appreciated.
Esme sighed sharply. "Karina, enough. And you too, Alan. He is helping your mother recover, so show some respect."
She tried, but her voice sounded tired. Lucas knew she fought a losing battle in this house.
Esme was Alan's wife. She is mesmerizing with dark hair and hazel eyes that lit up like a golden sphere.
The curve on her body and the way she moved was graceful, that big tits keep jiggle every time she moved which could make every man want to worship it, including him.
He didn't know how the hell someone as beautiful as her was in love with a jerk like Alan.
But even her defense could not cool the quiet anger burning inside Lucas. It simmered beneath his ribs, an ever-growing fire that refused to die, no matter how hard he tried to keep it contained.
When Lucas finally finished feeding his stepmother, he washed his hands and headed toward the door. He hoped to leave without another scene.
But Alan leaned back in his chair, smirking at him like a king addressing a servant.
"Lucas, tie my shoes for me before you go. You are good at doing everything people tell you, right? I need to review a patient's file."
Lucas paused, glared at him with a disgusted look and then walked past him without a single word.
Alan shot to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You dare ignore me?"
Lucas closed the front door before the shouting could claw its way deeper into him.
Walking toward the bus stop, he reminded himself why he was trapped here. This was his father's first family. He married his mother without even divorce his first wife just left one day and never came back.
The woman he cared for was the first wife, Adelyn. Lucas was the affair child who survived. When his parents died, this household took him in, not out of love, but out of obligation and spite.
They raised him like a burden. A stain. A problem they never asked for but never let him forget.
He spent his childhood apologizing through tears and became a slave in that house. Now he was twenty-two, a fresh graduate working in a psychiatric ward, saving every coin he could just to escape.
But rent in the city was a cruel joke, and his income barely covered the basics.
He pulled in a deep breath as he walked, doing his best to calm down.
Then something slammed against the back of his head. Hot liquid soaked through his hair and dripped down his neck. Coffee. A whole cup.
A car sped past him, tires hissing against the wet road.
"That's for being too cocky, bastard!" a voice shouted from inside.
Lucas didn't need to look. Alan's laugh echoed from the driver's seat, Karina giggling beside him.
For a moment, Lucas just stood there, dripping coffee onto the pavement, stunned by the sheer pettiness of it.
He wondered what kind of monster Karina would be when she became an adult, but he knew it wasn't his problem when that time came.
"What a morning…" He muttered it through clenched teeth.
He forced himself to breathe in, then slowly let the air go before anger swallowed him whole.
The day had barely begun, and he still had to face patients who were, as the nurses liked to say, "not in their right minds."
Compared to his family, the patients felt merciful.
***
"Mrs. Haymitch, remember to take your medicine this morning."
Lucas placed a small bottle filled with three pills on the bedside table and offered her a gentle smile.
The ward around him looked nothing like the sterile white rooms people imagined from television.
The hospital had painted every wall in soft, bright colors. Scenery murals stretched across entire surfaces, trying to trick the mind into believing this place was kinder than it was.
This section housed patients who were already stable, four beds to a room, all of them harmless to others and to themselves.
Lucas checked Mrs. Haymitch's blood pressure, wrote the numbers into his notes, and patiently waited until every patient swallowed their medication. Only then did he roll the cart toward the next wing.
The isolated ward.
Alune Psychiatric Hospital was split into two buildings. The new one was spotless, filled with windows and sunlight, the perfect showpiece for parents and guardians.
They loved the sight of the flower garden outside, the way the light softened their fear. But they couldn't see it in this season as snow was heavy in this city.
Behind it stood the old building. No sunlight touched those rooms. The structure had once been a prison, and some of the doors still looked like cell blocks. This was where the dangerous patients lived.
Rumors followed the old wing everywhere. Whispered stories of cults, devil summoning, strange rituals. The kind of tales bored staff told new hires just to watch them pale. Lucas never believed any of it.
He walked up to room 303 and knocked twice. A woman's voice answered almost immediately.
"Is that you, Lucas?"
"Yes, Miss Sinclair. It's me."
"Oh, come in. And stop calling me 'Miss'. We are friends, aren't we?"
Lucas let out a short, awkward laugh and held his ID card to the lock. The button flicked green. The door clicked open.
He brought only the medicine tray and his blood pressure kit inside, leaving the cart parked in the hallway.
"How's your morning, Layla? Feeling any better? No nightmares last night?"
"Nightmares?" Layla laughed softly.
"I don't think those are nightmares. More like precognition. Don't you agree? Everyone in this room agrees too."
The way she grinned made the hairs on Lucas's neck rise.
Layla Sinclair was beautiful in a way that drew eyes without effort. Her blonde hair spilled down her back, her green eyes gleamed like polished emeralds.
Her slim waist contrasted her generous curves, something half the hospital staff envied. She only ever wanted to talk to Lucas, which caused even more jealousy.
Layla came from a well-known politician family, though they hid her here. Her personality mortifies them. She claimed to see ghosts. She claimed to speak with them. And worse, they believed she was possessed.
Because of what they found her doing. All the shrines of blood and sacrifice, the way she was on top of her fainted little sister, knife raised as she was ready to stab her.
The only miracle was that the child survived.
Layla tilted her head as Lucas finished noting her vitals. A strange softness filled her voice.
"I did have a dream last night, though. Do you want to hear it?"