Chapter 2: The Marks Beneath The Medical Coat
Dr. Leon arrived with his medical case and his coat pulled tight against the night air. He did not waste motion. He knelt beside Allie, checked her breathing, and arranged the room around the examination as if order itself could keep the emergency from spreading. Lily stayed close to the bed, her rabbit pressed against her chest now, its fabric dark where it had touched the floor.
I stood between the open doorway and the child. I could still feel Lily's fingers around mine. The pressure had faded, but the memory of it had not.
Dr. Leon looked at Allie's face, then her hands. He asked nothing aloud. The only voice in the room was Lily's when she answered the question no one had spoken.
“Look, he's marks around her wrists, Mr. Morani.”
The name struck wrong against the room. Moretti was mine, but Lily was looking at me as if the correction did not matter. Her attention remained on Allie. Dr. Leon carefully turned one of Allie's wrists toward the light.
The marks were visible then: narrow, dark traces circling the skin. They were not explained by the way she had fallen. Dr. Leon examined the second wrist, comparing what he saw without giving the discovery a larger shape than it had earned. His face stayed focused and serious.
I looked at Lily. She watched his hands instead of her mother's face. Her shoulders had drawn up beneath the nightgown. The yellow daisies moved when she breathed.
Dr. Leon worked with quiet efficiency. He checked Allie's pulse again and adjusted her position so her head rested clear of the bed frame. I brought a folded blanket from the adjoining room and placed it around Lily without touching her. She accepted it, but she did not sit.
For a few seconds, Allie remained still.
Then her fingers moved.
The change was small. Her eyelids trembled. Dr. Leon leaned closer, and I stepped nearer the bed. Allie's eyes opened without focus. She looked at the ceiling first, then at Lily, and finally at me. The apology in her expression arrived before any explanation. I could see that she was already measuring the cost of being treated.
Dr. Leon kept his attention on her wrists.
“Who did this to you? Victor, he's coming for us.”
Allie's voice was weak, but the sentence did not sound confused. It landed with the weight of something carried too long. Lily pressed the rabbit under her chin.
I had heard the name before, in no conversation that belonged in this room. Now it had entered through Allie's mouth and changed the shape of every shadow beyond the door.
Dr. Leon continued examining her. I watched the marks, then the girl, then the drawings on the wall. The houses had no windows. The suns were bright yellow and identical in their position above the roofs. Lily had drawn the same closed place twice, or someone had helped her repeat it.
Allie tried to lift one hand. Dr. Leon stopped the movement and placed it back beside her.
The old wall phone sat within reach. I lifted the receiver but did not dial. Outside, a low mechanical sound passed through the building and faded. Lily turned toward it immediately. Her rabbit's stitched face pointed toward the hall.
I set the receiver down.
May you like
Dr. Leon looked at me. His expression gave me no instruction, only the fact that the room could not remain exposed. Allie had named Victor, but she had not said where he was, how close he had come, or what he intended to do next.
At the far end of the corridor, a light shifted beneath the door.
