Struggle against the orderlies and demand to speak with Dr. Ashford immediately

You wrench your arms, trying to twist free from their grip. "Let go of me! I demand to speak with Dr. Ashford" You scream as you try and pull away.

Anges digs her fingers tightly into your arm, hoping that the pain will **** you to cooperate. Despite the pain, you've managed to plant your feet, forcing them to halt halfway. The other orderlie, the one called Judith, moves behind you, still holding onto your arm. You know she intends to lift you up as you feel her one touching against your waist.

"Dr. Ashford!" You call out, your voice echoing off the stone walls. "Dr. Rebecca Ashford! I am Dr. Abigail Winters, your successor! There has been a terrible mistake!"

Matron oakwood's mouth tightens into a thin line. "That is quite enough. Agnes, Judith, " she says, directing the orderlies to cover your mouth. As you struggle to keep your mouth from being covered, you hear a woman's voice cry out.

"Wait." The voice comes from an open doorway to your left. A woman emerges, elegant in a black dress with jet buttons, her dark hair swept up in an elaborate style. She appears to be in her late thirties, with sharp features and intelligent gray eyes. "What is all this commotion, Matron?" She asks, directing her attention towards the senor administer.

You recognize the woman almost immediately. It is Dr. Rebecca Ashford, the acting director of the Ashford Institute. Who you've come to meet though you never thought you'd be meeting her with a hand around your mouth.

"Dr. Ashford," Matron Oakwood says with obvious respect. "The patient from London has arrived. Marton explains, pointing as you struggle with her orderlies. "As you can see, she's proving to be quite excitable."

You feel a surge of relief at the sight of Dr. Ashford. Surely, she will set this madness right. "Dr. Ashford, thank God." You say pulling the orderlies hand away from your mouth. "Please, you must listen to me. I am Dr. Abigail Winters. I was appointed Director of this asylum. I have my letter of appointment in that carpetbag. " You point towards the bag in the martons hand.

Dr. Ashford approaches slowly, studying you with clinical interest. Her expression is perfectly neutral, giving nothing away. "Dr. Winters, you say? How very interesting." She circles you like a predator. "And when, precisely, were you appointed to this position?"

"Three weeks ago! By the Board of Governors. I have the letter, dated and sealed. Please, just look at it. " You beg for Dr. Ashford to help.

"Her delusion is remarkably detailed," Dr. Ashford observes to Matron Oakwood, though her eyes never leave your face. "Tell me, my dear, what medical school did you allegedly attend?"

"The London School of Medicine for Women," you answer immediately. "I studied under Dr. Elizabeth Garrett Anderson. I published a paper on moral treatment in The Lancet last year."

"Fascinating." Dr. Ashford notes making a polite smile. "And you truly believe you are meant to replace me as Director?"

Hearing the question, you choose your next words carefully. "The handover over is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I arrived early so you could brief me on how you run things, " you say, trying to butter Dr. Ashford up.

Dr. Ashford turns to the Matron. "The grandiosity is quite pronounced. And this aggression, this demanding behavior—highly concerning. I believe immediate restraint is warranted, don't you?"

Your stomach drops. "No—no, you don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly, my dear." Dr. Ashford's voice is smooth as silk. "You are unwell, and we are here to help you. Matron, please escort this patient to the restraint room. I'll prepare the admission paperwork myself." The doctor giving the Matron orders.

Your options

Appel to Dr. Ashford's medical knowledge discusses cases and techniques as you look to bond.

Demand some examines your bag immediately. Your letter is still in there it's key to identifying yourself.

Stop struggling and try to remain calm, hoping to appear more rational