He peeled back my eyelids, then took my pulse.
In the end he ruled there was nothing wrong with me.
"Mrs. Gilbert, your daughter's emotions are fine. This looks like an act."
"What?!"
Mother's face changed at once, and she shoved me away.
"Irene, are you ever going to stop?"
"I've put up with you for two months. Haven't you made enough of a scene?"
White-faced, I crumpled to the floor, one arm wrapped around my head, wishing I could sink into the ground.
Until Mother said coldly,
"Stop pretending. I don't have time for your tantrums."
"Tomorrow you're going to inspect our first project."
"You know the place well. It's Fox Hollow."
Ice flooded my chest, and the cold went straight to the bone.
Dr. Lawrence left.
I was locked in the bedroom.
I cried until my voice gave out, struck my head until it split.
I begged Mother not to send me back, but she might as well have been deaf.
The next day she opened the bedroom door, dragged me out, and pushed me into the car.
I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe, my body so far gone with fear it nearly let go beneath me.
On the road, past caring what happened to me, I wrenched the door open and flung myself out.
Mother panicked and braked at once.
The fall was bad. The pain in my leg bored straight through me, and I couldn't get back up.
There was nothing for her to do but take me to the hospital first.
In the car, Myrtle kept urging her,
"Call Dr. Lawrence. He's very good!"
Mother shook her head.
"The city hospital is closest from here. Irene can't even move her leg. We can't wait for Dr. Lawrence."
Then she turned to me.
"What a mess. What did I ever expect from you?"
"Get the leg seen to today, and tomorrow you make the trip again!"
I was in too much pain to speak, my nails digging into my palms.
Half an hour later they wheeled me into the ER.
Mother was still on the phone, explaining to the people in Fox Hollow, rescheduling the meeting.
Until the doctor came out, his face grave.
"Who's family to Irene Gilbert?"
My mother hung up fast.
"That's me, that's me!"
The doctor looked her up and down.
"You're her mother?"
"How have you been taking care of this child? Your daughter has level-two schizophrenia. Did you know that?"
My mother's eyes went wide with shock.
"She just hurt her leg. How could she…"
The doctor's tone was cold.
"There's nothing serious with her leg. But the psychological trauma is severe."
"Right now she won't say anything. If you want to know what she's been through, the only way is hypnosis."
"You should prepare yourself."
Mother's face froze, and she trailed after the doctor into the room, moving woodenly, like a sleepwalker.
I was lying on the bed, my eyes empty.
A pocket watch dropped into view.
The doctor asked slowly,
"Irene, why don't you want to go to Fox Hollow? What did you go through?"
My pupils widened, little by little.
Even under deep hypnosis, my voice would not stop shaking.
"I was raped…"
