I’d harmed Thea badly.
I tried one last time. “Would you like some music?”
Because music is life. Remember?
She shook her head. “I want to go inside.”
“Sure,” I said, my stomach twisting tighter. “Whatever you want.”
I led Thea inside to the rec room, where Delia was already waiting. Keeping her promise to come every day to monitor her sister. She watched me with a dagger-glare. Her moment of weakness in front of me the other day was hard and clear in her eyes.
“Delia!”
Thea’s voice was frayed at the ends and then cut off with a strangled sound as she suffered an absence seizure. When the seizure released her, Thea ran to her sister and held her tight.
“How long has it been? Where are Mom and Dad?”
My heart fucking broke at the pain in her voice.
“Two years,” Delia said. “They’ll be here soon.”
Thea didn’t let go of her but clung to her, face buried in her shoulder. Rita hurried over, her hands twisting, her face a mask of worry.
“What’s going on?” Delia demanded over Thea’s shoulder. “Why is she like this?”
“We don’t know, Ms. Hughes,” Rita said, glancing at me.
Delia said a few words to Thea then gently extracted herself. She sat her sister down at the table and pulled us aside.
“She can’t know what happened to our parents,” she hissed at me. “You didn’t tell her, did you? Is that why she’s so upset?”
“I didn’t tell her,” I said.
“Someone said something. Something’s happened. If I find out it was you—”
“I swear, I haven’t told her.”
She lifted her chin. “This is the second time in two days I’m discussing my sister with an orderly,” she said. “You are to leave her alone, do you hear me? This is your last warning.”
With a final, parting glare, she went and sat beside Thea, her arm around her, murmuring comfort in her ear.
I pulled Rita aside.
“It’s because of the painting. I never should’ve bought the canvas.”
“I don’t know,” Rita said, biting her lip. “She’s been so happy. I think you were helping.”
“Maybe I wasn’t,” I said. “Maybe I made her worse. I should stay away. No more walks.”
Rita shook her head, her eyes on Thea. “I don’t know, Jim. I just don’t know.”
I didn’t sleep for shit that night, and as much as I needed to see her, the following day I didn’t give Thea her FAE. I waited with my guts twisting in knots until it was rec time.
Thea stood in front of her painting in the corner, studying what she had created over the last few days. New York City under a brilliant summer sky.
A masterpiece.
“How is she?” I asked Rita.
“Not good,” she said. “Worse, I think. She’s not herself. But she’s with her painting now. Maybe it will help.”
For long minutes, Thea didn’t move, and I wondered if she felt the painting was finished. Then she reached for the tube of black paint and squeezed a huge dollop onto the palms of her hands. With a small cry, she slapped the canvas and dragged her hands across it.
“No!” The word erupted out of Rita.
Oh fuck…
We watched in horror as Thea smeared black paint across her beautiful cityscape. Once. Twice. Black swathes across the perfection of her Empire State Building and the pure blue sky.
Rita and I broke from our shock at the same time and rushed forward. Rita took the paint out of Thea’s hands, while I gently guided her a step back from the ruined canvas.
“Miss Hughes,” Rita said. “It’s okay. Oh, honey, it’s okay.”
You done fucked up now, you big dummy.
Thea was crying, her breath coming in silent, choked gasps. She stared in horror at her hands covered in black paint. Before we could stop her, she raised them to her face and dragged her palms down her cheeks.
“Jesus, honey, no,” Rita cried. She looked over at me fearfully, confused.
I could only shake my head, slack-jawed and my heart thumping in my ears.
I did this. I did this to her.
We took hold of her arms and started her away from the canvas. A voice rang out from the rec room door.
“My God…”
Delia was there with Alonzo, staring in horror. Alonzo’s dusky skin was paler than I’d ever seen it.
“Delia,” Thea cried. She went rigid in my hands as an absence seizure made her stiffen and tremble.
“What in the hell is happening?” Delia said, rushing forward. Her blazing gaze swept over Rita and me. “What is happening to my sister?”
“Delia,” Thea said, before we could speak. Her voice was a watery croak. “You’re here. How long has it been? Where are Mom and Dad?”
“Jesus,” Delia breathed, then hurried to add, “Two years. They’ll be here soon.”
Thea slipped out of my grip and collapsed in Delia’s arms, sobbing, black paint smearing Delia’s hair and the shoulder of her suit jacket.
Delia held her sister tight, stroking her blond hair. Her glare was both murderous and terrified.
“I told you,” she said, her voice shaking with tears and anger. “I told you painting would be bad for her. But did you listen? No, not to me. Not to her doctor.”
Rita shook her head, tears in her own eyes. “I don’t understand. She was so happy.”
“Help me get her cleaned up,” Delia snapped. She kept an arm around Thea as they walked to the door, Rita following. Delia stopped and stared at Alonzo and me.
“I think it’s time we had a meeting with Dr. Poole and Dr. Stevens.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alonzo said to the ground.
Pain wracked my chest as if I were having a seizure too. “Alonzo—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t.” His brown eyes were heavy as he looked to the ruined canvas in the corner. “Best go clean that up.”
I put the canvas away. Cleaned up the paint splatters. Stored the brushes in the supply closet. The next day, Thea was back at the table, markers and a sheet of paper in front of her.
I went to get a broom, to do the job I should’ve been doing all along, instead of interfering where I had no business.
I swept the rec room, working around Mr. Webb doing his jigsaw puzzle and Ms. Willis playing dominoes with her nurse. Mr. Perello spoke about the war to his attendant. All the while, I stole glances at Thea, hoping to see her with a pen in her hand and that smile on her lips.
But she sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring at nothing.
Rita met my gaze and shook her head, saddened and helpless too.
I hurried in my tasks to avoid Delia, but she showed up early and strode directly to me.
“Why are you in here?”
“Just cleaning up,” I said. “I haven’t spoken to her, Ms. Hughes. I promise.”
“I would goddamn well hope not. You need to leave. Now. I don’t want you anywhere near my sister. In fact, the next time I see you will be at the meeting I’ve arranged with Drs. Poole and Stevens.”
I nodded. I hurt Thea and would probably lose my job over it. A small price to pay.