Later that afternoon, I spoke to my husband. “Hey babe. You wanna order in tonight?”“Sure, whatever you like,” he responded. “How was last n...ght?”“SO MUCH FUN,” I said. “It’s been so long since me and the girls hung out.” I had scripted the lie in my head and rehearsed it over and over. “Actually, you remember my friend Anita? She messaged us last night because she found out that we all went out and didn’t invite her. And now she’s upset.”“Anita ... that’s one of your friends from uni right?. "Yes, Doctor Strand."The restraints are loosened, and Sam Jackson curls up on his cot, free for a time to seek out the darkness at the core of his being. For now all pain and conflict are far away and he is safe. He doesn't hear the screams or smell the stink of vomit and disinfectant in the dingy ward. He doesn't feel the tubes that feed him, doesn't even know it when he is wheeled into the treatment room again.Once more the soothing voice of the computer reaches out to him, banishing a little. More

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