Or maybe nothing more ominous than too many hours spent in this place.
During my years on the wards I'd met plumbers and housewives and teamsters and accountants-parents of chronically ill kids who slept and ate and lived at the hospital and ended up sounding like first-year residents.
None of them had poisoned their kids.
Cindy touched her braid and looked back at me.
I smiled, trying to look reassuring, wondering about her certainty that Cassie and she were able to communicate on a neartelepathic level.
Blurred ego boundaries?
The kind of pathologic overidentification that feeds into child abuse?
Then again, what mother didn't claim-often correctly-a radarlike link with her baby? Why suspect this mother of anything more than good bonding?
Because this mother's babies didn't lead healthy, happy lives.
Cindy was still looking at me. I knew I couldn't go on weighing every nuance and still come across as genuine.
I glanced over at the child in the bed, as perfect as a bisque doll.
Her mother's voodoo doll?
'You're doing your best,' I said. 'That's all anyone can ask.'
I hoped it sounded more sincere than I felt. Before Cindy could respond, Cassie opened her eyes, yawned, rubbed her lids and sat up groggily. Both hands were out from under the covers now. The one that had been concealed was pufly and bore needle bruises and yellow Betadine stains.
Cindy rushed over to her and held her. 'Good morning, baby.'
New music in her voice. She kissed Cassie's cheek.
Cassie gazed up at her and let her head rest against Cindy's abdomen.
Cindy stroked her hair and held her close. Yawning again, Cassie looked around until her eyes settled on the LuvBunnies on the nightstand.
Pointing to the stuffed animals, she began making urgent whining noises: 'Eh, eh.'
Cindy reached over and snagged a pink animal. 'Here you go, baby.
It's FunnyBunny and he's saying, Good morning, Miss Cassie Jones. Did you have a good dream?'' Talking softly, slowly, in the goof', eager-to-please voice of a kiddy-show host.
Cassie snatched the doll. Holding it to her chest, she closed her eyes and swayed, and for a moment I thought she'd fall back asleep.
But a moment later the eyes opened and stayed that way. Big and brown, just like her mother's.
Her big-eyed gaze jumped around the room once more, swinging in my direction and stopping.
We made eye contact.
I smiled.
She screamed.
Cindy held her and rocked her and said, 'It's okay. He's our friend.'
Cassie threw the LuvBunny on the floor, then began sobbing for it.
I picked it up and held it out to her. She shrank back and clung to her mother. I gave Cindy the doll, took a yellow bunny from the shelf, and sat back down.
