“She knows,” I said.
Rita’s eyes filled with tears. “God, maybe she does. When I think about all the times I’ve been busy and overworked… Delia said she loved The Office, so I plunked Thea down in front of the TV, for hours on end, when she could have been doing this…”
“She’s happy now,” I said. “That’s what counts.”
“Yes, I think so. Thanks to you.” She shook her head. “God, look at that painting.”
The rough obelisks were now the towering skyscrapers of New York City, with the Empire State Building front and center. A forced perspective, as if the viewer were looking down at Manhattan from a high angle, making the building facades sprout from the grid of streets like a bouquet. Yellow cabs and cars, like children’s toys, dotted the boulevards. Puffy clusters of green made up Central Park. The sky was clear blue, with a blazing sun glinting off the metal skyscrapers in perfect bolts of silver and copper.
It’s a masterpiece, just like Delia predicted.
“What the hell is going on?”
Rita and I turned. As if my thoughts conjured her up, Delia Hughes marched across the rec room in her navy suit, staring at her sister, who was still lost in her work and the music. For a moment, Delia’s dark, hard eyes softened. I could almost see her remembering Thea before the accident. Maybe painting just like this at home with their parents alive and well.
“She always wanted to go to New York,” Delia murmured softly. Sadly.
Then her entire expression turned stony, and she whirled on Rita and me. “Whose idea was this? Not Dr. Stevens, I presume.”
I opened my mouth to speak but Rita cut in.
“Mine,” she said. “I felt two years was adequate time to acclimate Thea to Blue Ridge, and it’s time she resumed the activities she enjoyed before the accident.”
Alonzo came rushing into the rec room, then stopped when he saw Delia. He smoothed the front of his white uniform down and joined us. “Ms. Hughes,” he said slowly.
“Why was I not consulted about this?” Delia flapped her hand in Thea’s direction.
“It’s non-medical care,” Alonzo said. “We are authorized to—”
“And if she had a seizure? Those are medical in nature, are they not?”
“Yes, but—”
“But you feel it’s perfectly acceptable to send my sister into a medical seizure with your non-medical care and then what? Did you think further than that?”
“She hasn’t had a seizure, Ms. Hughes,” Rita said. “Not in days.”
“Not yet.”
“She loves it. She’s vibrant in a way I haven’t seen before.”
“And painting a masterpiece, no less,” Delia said. “I told you, I don’t want a media circus over Thea. I don’t want the entire world watching a beautiful young girl exhibit her brain damage as if she’s some kind of sideshow.”
“We can ensure that no word gets out about her painting,” Rita said. “It’s part of the HIPAA policy. Anyone here who shares her work outside of this facility can face termination or even a lawsuit. I’ll ensure the staff understands that implicitly.”
Delia held Rita’s gaze for a minute, thinking. Then she whirled on me. “And you. Do you understand implicitly?”
I nodded, meeting her gaze. “I do.”
“What do you have to do with this?”
“Jim works with Thea every day,” Rita said carefully. “We are all involved in her care. Allowing Thea to paint makes her extremely happy.”
“She can’t be happy,” Delia said. “She can’t remember happy.”
“Delia,” Rita said in a gentle voice. “Look at her.”
Delia’s eyes softened as she took in her sister. “Well,” she said, after a minute. “We’ll see. I’d like Dr. Stevens to be made aware of this. And it looks like I’ll be driving over for the next few days to keep an eye on Thea. If she has even the slightest of tremors…”