Page 61 of Clever Little Thing

A moan escaped me. “You can’t do this. You don’t understand. Stella is in danger. It’s her we need to worry about. She’s in terrible, terrible danger.”

“Charlotte, this place is the best. You have no idea how lucky we are that I was able to get a spot here. Most people don’t even know places like this exist. You’ll be comfortable here, get the best care.”

I thought of something. “Listen, did you tell Kia about watching her in the bath?”

Pete picked up a biscuit, broke it in half. He looked like he wanted to grind it into powder. “That therapist called. Wesley? He was worriedyoumight try to hurt Stella. Cherie was worried too.”

Everyone I’d confided in had betrayed me.

The glass-topped tables and wicker chairs with their tasteful cushions seemed to cluster closer. Outside it was getting dark, even though it couldn’t be later than three in the afternoon.

Pete shifted away from me slightly, sat up a little straighter. “It’s best for everyone if you stay away from Stella until you feel better.”

“What are you saying, I’m a danger to my own daughter? She is all I think about, day and night.”

Pete seemed to reach the limit of his patience. “You put a dead bird in her bed.”

“Onher bed,” I said sharply, causing the white-haired parents to look over. Rosemary was standing discreetly in the doorway, watching our whole exchange.

Pete continued reciting my misdeeds, a litany he had stored up. “You think she’s keeping a diary in another language.”

“Itisin another language. Armenian.”

“You gave her alcohol and then left her wandering around at night on her own. An eight-year-old. You were physically abusing her.”

“I admit I shook her that one time,” I said. “But listen, I wasn’t really shaking her—I was shaking Blanka.” He gaped at me, and I clarified, “Blanka is inside Stella. That’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday.”

Pete’s voice was very quiet. “She’s possessed.”

“Exactly.” I exhaled. “Finally, you get it. We can talk about how to help her.”

“You’re the one who needs help, baby,” Pete said gently. “There’s a name for this. Capgras delusion—the delusion that your loved one has been replaced by an exact duplicate.”

“You planned this speech,” I said, sick at the depth of his betrayal. “Anyway, that isn’t it. Thisisher, but it’s just her body. She’s a vessel.” I stopped. My voice would hardly work.

Rosemary was suddenly at my elbow with a clipboard, which she handed to Pete, and he gave me a pen. “Sign yourself in here,” he said. “Take a couple of nights and rest. Please. They have massages, a saltwater pool.”

“No, no, no. I have to see Stella. I have to save her.” My lungs were constricted. Once, when we lived in San Francisco, a friendpersuaded me to swim off Ocean Beach, and the cold water caused a gasp reflex, where I couldn’t stop gulping air, as if my body wanted to prepare me for submersion. But my friend said if I counted to fifteen and kept swimming, by the end I would be breathing normally. I would be able to handle the cold. And now as I struggled to breathe, I kept thinking, In a minute, I’ll be OK. But I wasn’t. I felt like I was sinking downwards, leaving Stella on the surface, out of reach.

Rosemary placed a hand on my back and said, “Charlotte, you are doing fine. You’re safe here.”

The rudeness of her intrusion snapped me out of it. “Will you please step away? We are having a private conversation.”

Pete leaned close. “Baby, if you promise to eat, sleep, and rest and stay here for two nights, then I’ll listen to what you have to say about Stella. I’m serious: you eat three proper meals a day, not rice cakes, and you get the massages and the therapy and get a good night’s sleep. If you still believe…” He trailed off.

“Blanka is inside Stella,” I supplied.

He flinched. “Right, if you still believe that, I will take you seriously.”

“You have to keep her safe until then,” I said. “Do you promise?”

“I always keep my promises,” Pete said. “You know that.”

This was true: he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And he’d been focusing on me, thinking I was the problem. Without me there, he’d have more attention for Stella. She was off school for the two-week Christmas holiday. And this was the first chance they’d had since Blanka’s death to spend an extended period of time together. He’d finally see that something was wrong. Staying here fora couple of nights was worth it if that was what it took to get Pete on my side. I needed him. I’d tried to get rid of Blanka on my own, and failed.

“Fine.” I signed the form.

Pete got up. “I’ll call later to check on you.” He started edging away, reminding me absurdly of a parent dropping their young child off on the first day of school, knowing there will be screaming and wanting to be away before it starts.

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