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He snatched the bag from her and then looked up.
She frowned. He looked vaguely familiar, with his rust-colored crew cut and Coke-bottle glasses. “Do I know you?”
“No. Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing away quickly. Without another word, he took off running down the hallway.
She si
ghed. People had been doing that a lot lately. No one quite knew how to treat her since the media frenzy and the Silverwood tragedy.
She picked up her briefcase and walked down the hallway to the day care center.
A few minutes later Peanut, Max, and Ellie arrived.
They stood at the window outside the day care center, looking in. The room was full of shadows. Pockets of light grew like mushrooms above the nightlights in the various outlets, and a pale golden haze fanned down from the only ceiling fixture they’d left on.
The girl lay on the floor, curled up, with her arms wrapped around her shins. The mattress, empty save for the pile of unused blankets, was beside her. From this distance, and without benefit of good lighting, she appeared to be asleep.
“She knows we’re watching her,” Peanut said.
Ellie said, “She looks asleep to me.”
“She’s too still,” Julia said. “Peanut’s right.”
Peanut made a tsking sound. “Poor thing. How do we move her without terrifying her?”
“We put a sedative in her apple juice,” Max said. He turned to Julia. “Can you get her to drink it?”
“I think so.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s try that. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?” Peanut asked, her eyes wide.
“A shot.”
Thirty minutes later Julia went into the day care center, flipping on the lights as she went. Although the “team” had moved away from the window, she knew they were standing in the shadows, watching her through the glass.
The girl didn’t move a finger or bat an eyelash. She simply lay there, coiled up like a snail, holding her legs close to her chest.
“I know you’re awake,” Julia said conversationally. She set down her tray on the table. On it was a plate filled with scrambled eggs and toast. A green plastic sippee cup held apple juice.
She sat down on the child-sized chair and ate a bite of toast. “Um-um. This is good, but it makes me thirsty.” She pretended to take a sip.
Nothing. No reaction.
Julia sat there for almost thirty minutes, pretending to eat and drink, talking out loud to the child who didn’t respond. Every second bothered her. They needed to move this girl fast, before the press came looking for her here.
Finally, she pushed back from the table. The chair legs screeched against the linoleum floor.
Before Julia knew what had happened, all hell broke loose. The girl screamed; she jumped to her feet and started clawing at her face and blowing her nose.
“It’s okay,” Julia said evenly. “You’re upset. Scared. You know that word? You’re scared, that’s all. It was a loud, ugly noise and it scared you. That’s all. You’re fine. See how quiet everything is?” Julia moved toward the girl, who was standing in the corner, thumping her forehead against the wall.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Julia winced at each blow. “You’re upset. Scared. That’s okay. The noise scared me, too.” Very slowly, Julia reached out, touched the child’s rail-thin shoulder. “Shhh,” she said.
The girl went totally still. Julia could feel the tension in the girl’s shoulder and back, the tightening up. “You are okay now. Okay. No hurt. No hurt.” She touched the girl’s other shoulder and gently turned her around.
