"This must be little Chloe Saunders." He beamed with the false heartiness of a middle-aged guy who doesn't have kids and never stops to think that a fifteen-year-old girl might not like being called "little" Chloe Saunders.
He awkwardly clapped me on the back. "I like your hair, Chloe. Red stripes. Very cool."
He said "cool" like I say a Spanish word when I'm not sure of the pronunciation. Rae rolled her eyes behind his back, then came around front. "Hey, Dr. D."
"Rachelle. Oh, sorry, Rae, right? Are you keeping out of trouble?"
Rae flashed a perky smile, one custom-made for adults she had to suck up to. "Always, Dr. D."
"That's my girl. Now, Chloe, Dr. Gill tells me you had quite a breakthrough today. She's very pleased with your progress and how quickly you've fit into the therapeutic routine and accepted your diagnosis."
I tried not to squirm. He meant well, but being a good patient wasn't something I wanted to be publicly congratulated on. Especially when Derek had stopped eating to watch.
Now run along, take your meds and be a good girl.
Dr. Davidoff continued. "Normally, I don't meet with our young people until they've been here at least a week, but since you're speeding right along, Chloe, I don't want to hold you back. I'm sure you're eager to get back to your friends and school as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir." I copied Rae's perky smile, ignoring Derek's heavy gaze.
"Come along then and we'll chat in Dr. Gill's office."
He put his hand on one shoulder to propel me out.
Tori stepped in front of us. "Hello, Dr. Davidoff. That new medicine you have me on is working great. I'm really doing well."
"That's good, Victoria."
He absently patted her arm, then led me out.
The session was similar to the first one I'd had with Dr. Gill, filling in background. Who was Chloe Saunders? What had happened to her? How did she feel about it?
I'm sure he could get all this from Dr. Gill's notes, and she'd stayed late today to sit in, but it was like in a cop movie, where the detective interviews the suspect, asking all the same questions as the last guy. It's not the information that's important, but how I tell it. What's my emotional reaction? What extra details did I add this time? What did I leave out?
For all his false heartiness, Dr. Davidoff was Dr. Gill's supervisor, meaning he was here to check her work.
Dr. Gill had sat stiff and tense, leaning forward, squinting at me as she raced to capture every word, every gesture, like a student afraid to miss a key point for the exam. Dr. Davidoff took his time, getting a coffee for himself and a juice box for me, relaxing in Dr. Gill's chair, chatting me up before we started.
When he asked whether I'd had any hallucinations since I'd been here, I said yes, I'd seen a disembodied hand the second morning and heard a voice later that day. I didn't mention yesterday but said honestly that all had been fine today.
I sailed through the session without a hitch. At the end, he told me I was doing "fine, just fine," patted me on the back, and led me from the office.
As I passed the open media room door, I glanced inside. Derek was at the computer, his back to me as he played what looked like a war strategy game. Simon was also playing a game, on his Nintendo DS, as he sprawled sideways in the recliner, legs draped over the arm.
He noticed me and straightened, lips parting as if ready to call after me.
"If you're going for a snack, grab me a Coke," Derek said, attention fixed on the screen. "You know where they're hidden."
Simon paused, gaze shunting between us. His brother was giving him the perfect excuse to sneak out and talk to me, but he still hesitated, as if sensing a setup or a test. There was no way Derek knew I was here, behind his back. Yet Simon slouched in his chair.
"You want a Coke, get it yourself."
"I didn't ask you to get me one. I said if you were going."
"I'm not."
"Then say so already. What's with you tonight?"
I continued down the hall.
I found Rae in the dining room, homework spread across the table.
"You've got a DS, don't you?" I asked.
"Yep. Only Mario Karts on it, though. You want to borrow it?"
"Please."
"It's on my dresser."
I walked past the media room doorway again. The guys were still there, looking like they hadn't budged since I last passed. Again Simon glanced up. I waved Rae's DS and gestured. He grinned and shot me a discreet thumbs-up.
Now to find a place within range . . . I had a DS at home and knew I should be able to connect with another one within fifty feet. The media room was sandwiched between the front hall and the classroom, both off-limits for hanging out. But it was also right under the bathroom. So I went up, started PictoChat and prayed I could connect to Simon.
I could.
I used the stylus to write my message: u want to talk?
He drew a check mark, then wrote D followed by a picture that, alter a moment I realized was an eye. Yes, he wanted to talk, but Derek was keeping an eye on him.
Before I could reply, he sent another. D 8? a box with "soap" drawn in it, surrounded by bubbles. It took a moment, but I finally interpreted that as "Derek has a shower around eight."
He erased it and drew an 8 followed by yard. Meet him outside at eight.
I sent back a check mark.
Nineteen
AT 7:50, I WAS HELPING Rae empty the dishwasher. From the hall, I heard Simon ask if he could go out back and shoot hoops while Derek showered. Mrs. Talbot warned that it was getting dark, and he couldn't stay out for long, but she turned off the alarm and let him go. Once the dishwasher was empty, I told Rae I'd catch up with her later, then slipped out after him.
As Mrs. Talbot warned, dusk was already falling. Huge shade trees bordered the deep yard, casting even more shadow. The basketball net was on a patch of concrete beyond the reach of the porch light, and I could see only the white flash of Simon's shirt and hear the thump-thump-thump of the dribbled ball. I circled the perimeter.
He didn't see me, just kept dribbling, gaze fixed on the ball, face solemn.
Keeping to the shadows, I moved closer and waited for him to see me. When he did, he jumped, as if startled, then waved me to an even darker spot on the other side of the net.
"Everything okay?" I asked. "You looked . . . busy."
"Just thinking." His gaze swept the fence line. "Can't wait to get out of here. Just like everyone else I guess, but . . ."
"Rae said you've been here awhile."
"You could say that."
A shadow passed behind his eyes, like he was scanning his future, seeing no sign of release. At least I had someplace to go. They'd been in child services. Where would they go from here?
He bounced the ball hard and managed a smile. "Wasting our time, aren't I? I've got about ten minutes before Derek tracks me down. First off, I wanted to say I'm sorry."
"Why? You didn't do anything."
"For Derek."
"He's your brother, not your responsibility. You can't help what he does." I nodded toward the house. "Why didn't you want him seeing us talking? Will he get mad?"
"He won't be happy, but —" He caught my expression and let out a sharp laugh. "You mean, Am I afraid he'll beat the crap out of me? No way. Derek isn't like that at all. If he gets mad, he just treats me the same way he treats everyone else—ignores me. Hardly fatal but, no, I don't want to piss him off if I can help it. It's just . . ." He bounced the ball, gaze fixed on it. After a moment, he stopped and flipped it into his hands. "He's already mad that I defended him —he hates that—and now if I'm talking to you, trying to explain things, when he doesn't want them explained . . ."