“My dear sister stole you away from me. And now I’m supposed to raise her brat while she’s in the nuthouse?”
“I told you, it’s just until I get settled. As soon as I can set up Matthew’s sessions with Dr. Church, I’ll come and get him.”
“Tell me something, Daniel. Since when does a seven-year-old kid need a shrink? What’s wrong with that boy?”
Father hesitated. “He’s confused about things.”
“His gender?”
“Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because he’s lived in my house for the past two months. I’ve noticed things.”
“What kind of things?”
“He’s not a normal boy, Daniel. He’s not rowdy or disruptive and he never wants to go outside. The only thing that seems to interest him are my dolls.”
“You don’t let him into your studio.” Father’s voice sharpened.
“Not on purpose, no. But I’ve caught him in there once or twice. I didn’t see any harm in letting him look around. He wasn’t bothering anything. I don’t think he even touched the dolls. He just wanted to sit there and…watch them.”
“I don’t care what he was doing, you need to keep him out of there. He might ruin some of your work.”
“You really think he’d do that?”
“Perhaps not intentionally, but he is just a boy. And it’s not unusual for a child that age to act out when he loses his mother.”
“You make it sound like she’s dead.”
He paused for a long time before answering. Then he said slowly, “She might as well be.”
His lengthy hesitation made Matthew think of the terrible argument on Maddy’s birthday. Matthew hadn’t wanted to think about all the terrible things Father had said to Mama, or the blood he’d seen on the floor and on Father’s coat. When Matthew thought of Maddy’s birthday, he tried to remember it as a happy day. But he hadn’t seen his mother since then, and even at his tender age, he knew that, without her, any future celebrations would never be the same.
He suddenly realized that he didn’t want to hear the rest of the conversation. He was afraid, but for some reason, he couldn’t make himself turn away, even when the voices fell silent. Even when, a few minutes later, the noises coming from inside the room were soft moans and deep grunts.
Matthew didn’t understand what was going on inside his aunt’s bedroom, but he knew that it was something bad. He knew that it was somehow a betrayal of his mother, and he angrily turned and ran down the stairs as fast as he could. His aunt’s studio was down a long corridor that led to the back of the house. Matthew opened the door and stepped quickly inside.
Moonlight flooded through the wall of windows, so he didn’t have to turn on a light. He stood glancing around at the pedestals on which some of his aunt’s favorite dolls were displayed. He took them down one by one, stroking cool cheeks, running his hand down gleaming hair.
Then he went over to the unfinished sculpture that she had left on her worktable. A picture of a little girl was mounted on the wall behind the table, and as Matthew studied the sculpted face, he could already see a resemblance to the child in the photograph. She reminded him a little of Maddy, but the mouth was all wrong. He climbed up on a stool and sat looking at the clay face for a long, long time. Then he reached for one of the shapers and began to mold the mouth into Maddy’s.
“What are you doing?”
The voice seemed to awaken him from a deep trance. Sunlight flooded through the windows and he blinked. He had been sitting there all night. He hadn’t been sleeping, though. The clay face before him had been completely transformed.
“What have you done?”
His aunt’s voice was cold with fury. He glanced up, saw her contorted features and cringed. Quickly, he turned back to the clay face, hoping to catch a glimpse of Maddy, but she was gone. His aunt had scared her away.
She came over to where he still sat, grabbed his arm and jerked him off the stool. “You just destroyed two days worth of work. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I wanted to find Maddy.”
“Who the hell is Maddy?”
Matthew clamped his lips shut. Shush. Mustn’t tell, a little voice warned him.
His aunt’s hand tightened on his arm. “I asked you a question. Who is Maddy?” When he still didn’t answer, she started to laugh. “I get it. She’s you, isn’t she? All right, then. You want to find Maddy? You go look for her in here.” She grabbed up the clay and dragged Matthew across the room by his arm. She opened a door to a small storeroom, shoved him inside, then threw the clay at his feet.
“That’ll give you something to do while you sit in there and think about what you did.”
The door closed behind her, and Matthew was all alone in the dim little room. Hands trembling, he took out the old Polaroid picture he kept hidden away in his pocket. He could barely see the faces in the photograph, but it didn’t matter. He knew them by heart. Six little girls seated at a table. Maddy was at the end, her face aglow with happiness. And in the window behind her, if Matthew looked hard enough, he could see Mama’s reflection in the glass.
It was a perfect picture. A perfect reminder of a perfect day.
Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Matthew slid down to the floor and reached for the clay. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined what he wanted to see.
“You’re in there,” he whispered. “I can feel you.”
And one of these days, he would find a way to let her out.
Matthew sat at the dressing table in his aunt’s bedroom and stared at his reflection. Savannah’s clothes were laid out on the chaise by the window, and all he had to do now was finish her makeup. The wig would come next, cut and styled just the way she liked it. His aunt was very particular about the way she wore her hair. For as long as Matthew had known her, she’d been fastidious about her appearance. He supposed it was an admirable trait, especially after the accident, when even the smallest tasks had taken a monumental effort on her part. She was a strong woman, though. Matthew was constantly amazed by her constitution.
He got up from the dressing table and went over to the bed to stare down at her. She wore a white cotton nightgown that clung to her thin frame. Her hair had gone completely gray, and the skin on her face was pulled so tight across her skull it almost appeared transparent.
She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, but when she sensed Matthew’s presence, her gaze cut to him and her eyes widened. Something that might have been anger glinted in the pale depths, and Matthew laughed softly.
“You’ve still got some fire, don’t you?”
A telltale frown appeared on her brow before she could relax it.
“I saw that,” he said with another laugh. “Your medicine is wearing off. I guess I’ll have to increase the dosage. Can’t have you grunting like a pig while our guests are here.”
She stared at him, unblinking.
“I did tell you that we’re having company this morning, didn’t I? A Sheriff Granger called a little while ago. He’s sending a couple out here later who are interested in a doll they think you may have sculpted. They say it looks like their missing daughter. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your life?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for the medicine vial he kept nearby. He also had a supply of hypodermic needles in her bedside stand. He’d made sure when he first came to take care of her after the accident that everything he needed was right at his fingertips. That was back when she had still wanted his help, of
