“Yes,” said Alice. “No. I don’t know.”
Dr. Deluse laughed softly at the girl’s confusion. “Well, I guess that covers all of the possibilities.”
The brightness in her voice sounded artificial and a bit brittle.
She is humoring you, the same way that the nurses humor your mother.
Alice discarded the thought with a shake of her head, spraying water from her hair. She stood shivering as Dr. Deluse (Call me Jane) turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature for her. How comforting it was to allow someone to take care of her like this.
Her own mother had been hard to approach, let alone love. In hindsight, Alice realized that grief over a husband’s early death had been consuming her mother, leaving her emotionally empty. It was despair that eventually sent her into a private worl
