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“‘Doctor things’?” Dr. Chan repeated. “Can you be more specific, Clara?”
She shrugged. “It smells like a doctor’s office.”
“While you and Tommy are in the attic, do you see anyone else?”
Clara shivered, and Jonathon wanted to wrap his arms around her in reassurance and comfort. Instead, since he didn’t want to disturb her, he simply kept hold of her hand.
“Clara?” Dr. Chan prompted. “Do you see anyone else while you're there?”
“Theycome,” she whispered, her voice losing the monotone and becoming very childlike.
“Who arethey, Clara?”
“The man and the woman. They weren’t really old. They were just pretending.”
“What do they look like, Clara?”
“The lady has a big red mark on her face. The man, he’s sick, he doesn’t have any hair.”
“What do they do when they come to the attic?”
Shaking her head, Clara whimpered.
“It’s okay, Clara. You're safe now. What do they do when they come?”
“They play with us; they say we’re dolls. I’m so hungry, but they only give us this yucky tasting drink.”
“What else, Clara?” Dr. Chan pushed, sensing, as Jonathon had, that she was holding something back.
“Sometimes they take their clothes off, and they do stuff,” Clara’s voice trembled.
“Do they ever touch you or Tommy?” Dr. Chan asked carefully.
Shaking her head, a single tear leaked out of one of her closed eyes and rolled down her cheek. Jonathon found himself letting out a relieved breath. Although the doctor’s report from after Clara was found had stated that she hadn’t been sexually assaulted, and Clara herself had denied being molested, hearing her confirm it now that she remembered some of those missing weeks helped him to believe it.
Leaving that for the moment, Dr. Chan veered the conversation in a different direction. “Clara, I want you to remember how you and Tommy got away.”
“I . . . The door . . . It was open. We ran. Down the stairs. There were toys everywhere. Then we were outside, and we were walking and walking. I was so tired.”
“Toys everywhere?” the doctor repeated.
“Like a toy shop,” Clara added.
“Who opened the door, Clara?”
She became agitated. “I don’t know. It was just open.”
To Jonathon and Allina Dr. Chan offered, “It’s understandable not all her memories are going to come back in one go. Unless you really want me to, I'd rather not push her anymore today. She’s done remarkably well.”
“We have enough for now,” Jonathon replied. “Ali?”
“Just ask her if she ever saw the dolls while she was there,” Allina suggested.
The doctor nodded. “Clara, while you were in the attic, did you see any dolls?”
Pulling her hand free from his, she began to twist them in her lap. She squirmed. “One day they brought them. They made us lie down on the bed on our stomachs. They moved my hair out of the way. They put something hot on my neck. It burned.” Growing panicky, her hands batted at her neck, her face crumpled in pain like she was physically reliving the experience. “It hurts. It hurts,” she cried.
“Wake her up. Now,” Jonathon ordered. Clara’s distress had his heart thumping a million miles a minute.
