“I am not. But I am a monster. I am the “Son of Sam.” I am a little brat. —DAVID BERKOWITZ Evelyn listened to be sure no one was approaching the administration office. The COs knew she hadn’t left. She checked out when she did. So there was always the chance that someone might come by to get an update on Hugo, to report on Anthony Garza or for a number of other reasons. Sometimes, when she was working late, various COs came by just to talk. She was, after all, a psychiatrist, and their job could... be difficult. But all was quiet. Even the cleaning crew, a team of two—at least in this part of the institution—was gone. Before they left, she’d taken their key. That hadn’t been as hard to do as she’d imagined it would be, since they hung their ring on their cart in the reception area while vacuuming the individual offices. The most difficult part had been sorting through the twenty or so other keys on the same ring, since they all looked alike. She’d had to try one after another, hands shaking and heart racing, until she managed to unlock her own door.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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