She didn’t move; she didn’t stop staring.
“Haylee,” I said sharply. “Cut it out. You know I can tell when you’re pretending. Stop it!”
There was no reaction.
“Stop!” I screamed, and slapped the top of the table so hard that I hurt my palm.
Still, she didn’t move, didn’t even wince.
I looked at the mirror, and a few moments later, the door opened, and Dr. Alexander came in with two male attendants. She looked at me first.
“Please return to my office,” she said.
“What?” I looked at Haylee. She still hadn’t moved, nor had anything changed on her face. “Stop it, Haylee,” I said. “You have to talk to me.”
“Please,” Dr. Alexander said, but sharply. “Return to my office.”
I rose slowly. Haylee’s eyes didn’t follow me. She sat there looking forward, as if I were still in front of her. I started out, looking back at her. Dr. Alexander put her hand on Haylee’s shoulder, but she didn’t turn. I hesitated in the doorway, and then Dr. Alexander looked at me.
“Return to my office,” she commanded. “Now!”
I hurried out and down the hallway, almost as terrified as I had been in Anthony Cabot’s basement. My heart was racing, and I was gasping for breath.
“Something happened,” I told my father as soon as I entered the office and he looked up. I was crying now, too.
“What?” He leaped to his feet. “What’s wrong? What happened? What did she do to you?”
“We started talking, and then she stopped and just stared at me. She didn’t even blink. It was horrible. She froze. It was a nightmare,” I said, and continued to cry.
He quickly embraced me. “I knew this was a mistake. I knew it,” he said, holding me against him.
“I couldn’t tell whether she was acting or not, Daddy. I couldn’t tell. She was so weird. She said so many crazy things. She told me Mother was here, with her.”
He led me to the settee. “All right. Take it easy. I’ll see what I can find out,” he said. “Just stay right there. I’ll get you a glass of water, too.”
I covered my face with my palms and sat there. A few minutes went by before he returned with a glass of water for me.
“Did you see Dr. Alexander?” I asked, and drank.
“No. An attendant told me to wait here,” he said. “He got me your water.”
He sat beside me and held my hand. I could see the anger boiling in his face, but I didn’t know what to say to calm him. I was still too stunned. Almost ten
full minutes went by before Dr. Alexander came to her office. My father continued to mumble under his breath, blaming himself. We both turned to the doctor when she entered.
“What happened?” my father demanded, even before she closed the door.
She didn’t speak. She went behind her desk as if she wanted to keep it between us like a barrier and sat.
“I want to know exactly what’s going on now,” my father insisted.
“Please,” she said, nodding at the settee.
He and I sat.
“Well?” he asked.
“Your daughter has been suffering periodic catatonia,” she began.