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Leaning back into my chair, I kick my head to the side, never taking my eyes off her. “Did she say babies?”
“Ssss’ve. B-b-babies.” Brow flickering, she pushes harder at my scar. “Sssave. B-b-babies.”
“Frannie, what’s wrong?” Thierry reaches around me, grabbing for his sister’s hand, but she bats him away.
“Ssssave! Ssssave! Babies!”
The sharp digging of her nails into my scar has me jerking back into Thierry as I take in the panicked look in the girl’s eyes.
“Save them! Save the babies! Save the babies! Babies! The babies!”
“What babies, Frannie? What babies are you talking about?” Thierry says from behind.
She lunges forward toward my leg again, but I take her hand in mine, and her gaze slices upward.
“Frannie? What is it? What baby?” I ask, forcing calm into my voice.
Tears well in her eyes, her lips trembling as hard as her cold hand cupped in my palms. “You,” she whispers. “You.”
Swallowing hard, I release her.
“Save the babies! Save the babies! Save the babies! Save the babies!” Over and over, she screams, as Thierry jumps out of his seat, and the nurse comes rushing in.
While the two of them scramble for her, I back myself to the door, my head spinning.
Bad idea, coming here.
“Poor dear.” At the sound of the woman’s voice , I turn to find Jude standing behind me, shaking her head. “Any idea what set her off?”
Shrugging, I turn my attention back toward the girl, who kicks and screams as her brother and the nurse attempt to restrain her. “She reached out to touch me and started screaming something about saving babies.”
“Reached a hand out? Do you know what she was reaching for?”
“A scar on my leg.”
“May I see it?”
For whatever reason, the sensation of fingertips crawling down the back of my neck hits me.
Brows winged up, she waves her hand in dismissal. “Of course, you don’t have to show it. Forgive me. Everything is so clinical here, I sometimes forget the real world doesn’t work that way.”
Showing her the scar doesn’t bother me. It’s the strange feeling creeping over me at the request. Perhaps just the lingering effect of Thierry’s sister freaking out at the sight of it. Twisting to the side, I point to the mangled bit of flesh just below the hem of my dress.
“Oh.” Slipping on her spectacles, she leans forward, keeping her hands pressed close to her body. “What a strange marking. Almost looks like an inverted triangle? How long have you had it, dear?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
Sliding her glasses onto her head, she sighs. “The mind is a strange place, isn’t it? What odd things can trigger such … chaos.”
“Will she be okay?”
“Yes. She has a stubborn will, this one.” A squeeze of my arm draws my attention to a garish-looking, chunky ring on the woman’s finger. “Don’t fret. All will be well,” Jude says before she walks off.
As Thierry runs his finger over Frannie’s cheek, the nurse stuffs a needle into a box, and the girl seems to settle.
Great impression, Cely.
The nurse shoots Thierry a sympathetic smile, setting her hand on his shoulder, and I catch the flinch of his arm, before she pulls away. Not bothering to look at me, she slips past, exiting the room, and I plop into one of the chairs set in the hallway, wishing I’d have just stayed back at the boat.
