Topher struggled to his feet, and Nurse Smith presented him with the tray full of paper cups.
“Time for your vitamins.”
Topher eyed the cups, remembering Shawn’s warning. The man was clearly deranged, but still, things felt a little off here.
“Vitamins? Shouldn’t I be on antibiotics? Opiates? Viagra?”
Nurse Smith paused, assessing him.
“You think this is funny.” She put the tray down on his bed. “I heard there was a commotion during group?”
“Yes. One of your patients bit the psychologist’s face off.”
“Dr. Smythe is not a psychologist.”
“Guidance counselor, then?”
Her lips twitched up in the corners.
“Such a strange little man you are.”
“You have no idea.”
“Tell me, Mr. Bill, what did you do before?”
“Before I got here?”
“You know what I mean.”
Topher almost told her. Almost
