If anyone's body parts go missing, I had nothing to do with it. Laces is the culprit. Welcome to Hawthorne Asylum. Welcome to hell. This place isn't run by the doctors who make you talk or the orderlies who force you to swallow your pills. It belongs to them, to the infamous four. Tabloids, talk shows, documentaries - their faces have been plastered everywhere. Not because of their impressive rap sheets, but because of how they look. And when I arrive, they take notice. Es...