I went into the woods every day for the next three days, wandering aimlessly, calling for Lily. A couple times I even tried purposefully to lose my way, but I must have started noticing things about this forest that I hadn't meant to keep track of. "How the fuck can a person fail to get lost in a remote forest when he's actually trying?" I muttered. "That proves it, Holden, you are hopeless. Completely hopeless."
Returning to the lodge, I paced relentlessly. There was so much good pacing area out here. I could pace for days and only occasionally cover the same ground. It was a pacer's heaven. Fuck. Lily. I ran my hand through my hair. I was going to pace a track onto the deck and go prematurely bald from all the hair raking.
How in the world had things gone downhill so fast? Fucking Taylor, the snake. What had I ever seen in her?
She's good in bed.
I'm sure she is. She gets plenty of practice.
The words flitted through my mind, causing my head to ache. I brought one hand up and massaged the back of my neck. Ryan, I'd had that conversation with Ryan. I'd had that conversation with Ryan that day. I shook my head. No, no, I refused to think about that day. I pushed it out of my mind forcefully. No.
I had to explain things to Lily. I had to let her know that what happened wasn't my fault. I had to know if she'd give me another chance. Never mind that I'd need to start all over with the detoxing. I couldn't do it until I knew things were settled with Lily. And now, thanks to Taylor, or maybe no thanks to Taylor, I had a fresh supply. But, no, that was good because I had to make sure Lily and I were okay. I had to know she'd be waiting for me on the other side, so to speak. Knowing that would help get me through the darkness. Her. So if she wasn't in the forest, where was she? She'd said she lived nearby, but where?
Going back inside, I pulled my laptop out and sat on the couch with it on my lap. I used Google Earth to look up the lodge. The only building for miles and miles was the abandoned mental hospital Brandon had mentioned. Whittington, Hospital for the Mentally Insane. I did a Google search and scrolled through a couple pages of information.
The Whittington Hospital for the Mentally Insane, later renamed simply Whittington, was first constructed in 1901 on a forty-acre spread of land. The sixty-thousand-square-foot building was designed by Chester R. Pendelton who believed the mentally ill should be cared for and treated with kindness and compassion, away from the many stressors of the outside world. That translated into luxurious interiors including chapels, auditoriums, libraries, private rooms for the patients, all with vaulted ceilings, and large and plentiful windows to allow for maximum sunlight and ventilation. The expansive grounds and gardens featured beautifully ornate statues, fountains, and benches, and excellent walking paths.
I scrolled through the few black and white pictures online, not noting the exact year they'd been taken. Despite the fact that the interior was indeed, very appealing—light and airy—the outside of the building looked like something out of a horror movie. Enormous and gothic with tall, ornate towers, grandiose arches, and sweeping windows. There were even screaming gargoyles flanking the upper windows. I was sure nothing put the mentally ill at ease quite like monsters outside their rooms. I couldn't help shivering.
Whittington was built over twenty miles away from the nearest community to ensure that should a patient escape, there was no risk to outside inhabitants. Whittington was a privately owned hospital whose patients were comprised mainly of members of wealthy families who wished to keep their relative's condition private. In later years, though still privately owned, Whittington began accepting donations, grants, and some state funding for the less fortunate.