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As the doors slide open automatically, she feints left and bolts right.
She’s coming straight for him.
Acting on reflex, Jordan catches her around the waist. She strains against his arms, surprisingly strong. Then she twists her head around and pleads, “Please—please—let me go! My sister needs me!”
“Keep hold of her!” Nurse Amy shouts.
Jordan has no idea what to do or who to listen to.
“I’mbeggingyou,” the girl says, even as Amy advances, radioing security. Even as one of the girl’s sharp elbows jams into his solar plexus. Jordan gasps as air shoots out of his lungs.
“Just let me go,” the girl says, quieter now. “Please. I need your help.”
Jordan’s grip loosens—he can’t hold her much longer, and he doesn’t want to, either. But then two uniformed men come running outside, and they grab the girl’s arms and drag her into the hospital, and all the while she’s fighting.
Nurse Amy and Jordan follow them into a small room off the lobby. The guards get the girl into a geri chair and strap her down, and Jordan watches as Nurse Amy prepares a syringe.
“Your first day, huh?” she says to Jordan, her face looking suddenly worn. “Well, welcome to Belman Psych. We call this a B-52. It’s five milligrams of Haldol and two milligrams of Ativan, and we don’t use it unless it’s necessary for the safety of patient and staff.” She injects it intramuscularly, then follows it up with an injection of diphenhydramine. “Don’t worry. It’ll quiet her down.”
But it’s not like in the movies, when the patient just slumps forward, drooling and unconscious. The girl’s still yelling and pulling against her restraints. It looks like she’s being tortured.
“Give it a few minutes,” Amy says to Jordan.
Then she touches the patient’s hair, carefully brushing it away from her gnashing teeth. “You’re home, sweet Hannah. You’re home.”
DELIA F. BELMAN MEMORIAL PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL INTAKE & EVALUATION
PATIENT INFORMATION
Name:Hannah Doe
Date of Birth:1/14/2005
Date Service Provided:1/17/23
FUNCTIONING ON ADMISSION
ORIENTATION: Confusion w/r/t to time, place, identity; pt believes herself to be in a castle, possibly as a captive
APPEARANCE/PERSONAL HYGIENE: Pt presents disheveled, dirty, with clothing missing. Underweight. Superficial contusions and excoriations on legs and arms
PSYCHOSIS: Pt experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations
MOOD: Angry, upset, incoherent, uncooperative
LABORATORY RESULTS: Lab evaluation within normal limits. Toxicology report negative, and pt does not have history of substance abuse.
NOTES: After a breakdown on 44th St., pt was brought by ambulance at 9:34 a.m., mildly hypothermic from cold exposure. She attempted escape before being admitted. She was unable to answer orienting questions and insisted security staff wanted to kill her and her sister. Tried to attack security guard. We were unable to complete intake interview due to her delusional state; we will conduct further evaluation tomorrow if she is coherent.
CHAPTER 2
My name is Hannah Dory. I am eighteen in the year of our Lord 1347, and God forgive me, I am about to do something extraordinarily stupid.
I crossed myself, stood up, and threw a heavy cape over my shoulders.
“Hannah!” cried my sister, Mary. “Where are you going? Mother won’t like—”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence. I marched down the narrow, frozen lane toward the village square, my jaw clenched and my hands balled into fists.
