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“You need to state your answer aloud, Sadie. Shaking or nodding your head isn’t a sufficient response.”
“No. Not at first. I went to the bathroom. I washed my face in the sink and studied my reflection. Crazy images kept transposing themselves over my face. It must have been all the masks some of the others were wearing at the party. The whole night messed with my head. Maybe the tequila was getting to me. But I think it was more.”
“What happened next, Sadie? Did you return to the party?”
“I opened the door to step out of the bathroom, and it was dark. Like someone turned off the lights in that part of the house. The corridor was long, but I knew which way to go to get back to the big gathering room where the party was happening, yet I couldn’t move. I leaned against the wall. Felt as if I was falling.”
“Were you alone at that time?”
“At first ... but then someone appeared. I saw the mask, the flowing white dress or robe as if whoever wore the costume was glowing. It was totally otherworldly. I told myself I was hallucinating. But the child—and it must have been a child because the person was so small—took my hand.”
Silence.
“Isabella?” Sadie says. Pause. “I called her name, thinking maybe it really was her, but when I saw Isabella last, she wasn’t wearing a mask or dress-like robe. She was in her pj’s in her bed. I went in to say good night. Unless a guest brought a child, there weren’t any other children, so ... I don’t know. I couldn’t be sure. I was probably hallucinating.”
When the silence goes on for thirty seconds, Dr.Holden asks, “What happened after the child or small person took your hand?”
“I was guided to another room. It was dark, but I could tell that I hadn’t been in this room before. There were lots of stairs. I believe we were going downward. I think it was a cellar or basement of some sort. But then we were outside. I smelled the night air, felt the slight breezeagainst my face. When I looked up, I saw the moon. It felt close enough to have reached out and touched it.”
“Where did you go then?”
“A house or shed. Some place on the compound a good distance from the house. There was an old woman inside. She was doing some kind of ritual. Chanting and waving her arms. There were bizarre drawings on the wall. Blood. Bones. When the old woman turned around, she was wearing a mask too. I started to back away, but the little girl or whoever was wearing the mask looked up at me and said I shouldn’t be afraid.”
“Do you remember leaving this house or shed?”
“No. I remember the old woman turning toward me; her mask was like the child’s. White with horns sticking out on both sides. There were holes for the eyes but nothing else. She continued chanting and walking around and around me and the child. The room started to spin, and I thought I might puke. Then she stopped right in front of me. She placed her hands on my waist. She whispered words I couldn’t understand, and that was the last thing I remembered. I passed out, I guess.”
“When did you wake up again?”
“The next morning. I was in our bed—in Eddie’s room. He was already up. I showered and dressed. There were bruises on my upper arms and my torso. Obviously, there was a lot more that happened; I just can’t remember. When I found Eddie at breakfast, he said he was glad I was feeling better. Apparently, I told him I needed to go lie down at some point during the party. But I don’t remember telling him anything. I just remember the child and the old woman in the masks.”
“Did you ask Isabella about what happened?”
“I was careful not to say too much, but I did talk to her about the party. She wanted to know all about it. She didn’t seem to have any idea about the night’s events. She kept saying she wished she could have been there.”
“So, she was not the child in the mask.”
“I guess not. Maybe the whole thing was a hallucination.”
“So you never met this special guest who was supposed to be at the party.”
“No.”
“If these events were only hallucinations, what about the bruises?”
“I don’t know. Maybe those happened during sex that night. Later, Eddie mentioned that I went a little primal on him.”
“Were there other episodes of this sort after that night?”
“No. Not until ... I became invisible.”
22
Thursday, April 15
7:45 a.m.
Brighton Academy
