“What can I do for you?”“Wanna buy these horses?” I said. “I wanna sell.”“Got plenty,” he said.I looked at the dozen or so empty stall.... The floors were swept but the place smelled of old occupants, stale piss and dusty straw.“They’re out,” he lied. Straight faced, too.“Well ... I’ll be moving along, then.” I said. “The next town might be more hospitable ... and need horses such as these ... with tack.”“Hold on there, youngster,” the liveryman said. “I might maybe could.”“I wouldn’t want to put. Apparently the spa also functioned as a drug rehab facility, and theguards were not just decoration; they were there to stop patients fromleaving without permission. To leave a patient needed the consent ofboth their sponsor and supervising doctor. At the time, I was unaware ofthe implications of signing-in. I learnt soon enough though, that I hadbecome a patient with legal guardianship rights over me assigned toDaphne as my sponsor and a Dr. Janet Waverly, my medical supervisor.Before meeting. More

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