She would not look at me, keeping her eyes fixed on the floorboards.

One of the orderlies, a broad-shouldered man with a scar near his left eye, reached for my arm.

Matteo grabbed the man’s wrist.

“Keep your hands off her,” Matteo warned.

The second orderly moved in quickly, pushing Matteo back against the display case.

The glass rattled, a delicate silver teacup sliding to the side.

“Matteo, stop,” I said, wanting to protect him from them.

“You have no legal right to detain me,” I said, looking directly at Dr. Marren.

“I have the signed emergency admission order right here,” Dr. Marren said, tapping his clipboard.

“Co-signed by your husband, who is your legal guardian under the current medical proxy.”

Harrison nodded, his face still holding that false expression of worry.

“It is the only way to get you the help you need, Vivian,” Harrison said.

The broad-shouldered orderly stepped toward me again, his large hand closing around my upper arm.

The grip was firm, squeezing through the fabric of my sleeve.

“Let go of her,” a calm, clear voice spoke from the back of the room.