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  The woman’s face did not lose its stoniness.

  “I have all the sympathy in the world for her plight,” Mrs. Bellajoy said icily. “But I am afraid I have no tolerance for children disrupting the classroom.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” he sighed but the answer was never good enough.

  “I’m afraid whatever it is you claim to be doing has no affect on Audrey,” the principal declared, and Aiden felt himself growing angry.

  Is she suggesting I don’t discipline my daughter? He wondered but even as he got defensive, he tried to remember the last time he had actually punished Audrey for anything, instead of just ‘talking’ to her.

  You can’t punish a child in mourning, he told himself, shaking his head. But Aiden wondered if that was the real reason.

  He pushed the unbidden thought of his abusive parents out of his mind and focused on the slow-moving interstate, gritting his teeth.

  It’s been a good week so far, he reminded himself. No calls from the principal’s office.

  The drive from Bethesda to Baltimore was just over forty minutes in regular traffic but it took Aiden an hour that day.

  But he still wasn’t late, and Eileen’s beam confirmed it as he wandered into the lush and elegantly decorated office on St. Paul Street.

  “Good morning,” the receptionist chirped as he entered. “I have a message for you.”

  He arched an eyebrow with polite interest.

  “Oh?”

  She handed him a handwritten note on a yellow piece of memo paper.

  “Sarah.”

  Alarm raced through him.

  “Is she all right?” he demanded, and she nodded, but Aiden could see her blue eyes had clouded over lightly.

  “She says she is,” Eileen reiterated. “But she sounded a little sad.”

  Aiden bit on his lower lip, his mossy eyes meeting Eileen’s.

  “Yeah, I bet she’s sad,” he muttered. “I’ll call her.”

  Guilt flooded him as she nodded and returned to her computer screen.

  Fuck.

  Gulping back his shame, Aiden continued into his office, flipping on the recessed lighting as he slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

  He pulled open the folded message and exhaled slowly, reaching for the phone on his desk.

  “Hi,” he said when an older, male voice came on the line. “It’s Aiden Van Hoyt. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Yes, Mr. Van Hoyt. I’m glad you called.”

  “I know I haven’t been around to visit her much lately, but – “

  “I understand you are also going through a very trying time right now,” Dr. Cruthers interrupted. “I have no interested in burdening you further, but I thought that you and I should discuss your sister’s care.”

  “I thought we had,” he replied shortly. “I don’t care what it costs. I want her to have round-the-clock care.”

  Dr. Cruthers exhaled deeply.

  “Mr. Van Hoyt, it is not so simple anymore,” he explained. “Your sister is regressing rapidly, and I think it’s time to look into other avenues.”

  Aiden felt his spine fuse.

  “What do you mean ‘regressing’?” he asked, his voice a strangled whisper.

  “Well…she has delusions, things she thinks are memories of childhood. Now I understand that there was a lot of trauma for a young child to endure but – “

  “What is she saying?” he insisted, his face flushing as he sensed what the psychiatrist was about to say next.

  Dr. Cruthers chuckled in embarrassment.

  “I’m sure you know that she has always held you in such high esteem, and while I expect some…less than sensical utterances from her about you, lately she has been speaking about your brother also.”

  Of course she has. Because Xander can’t just stay out of our lives even when he keeps his distance.

  Aiden forced a laugh.

  “I can only imagine,” he replied. “Like what?”

  He hoped he did not sound as apprehensive as he felt, but he tried to reassure himself that no one would ever take his sister seriously, no matter what she said.

  More shame washed through him at the comfort.

  Everyone thinks your sister is insane and you’re grateful for that. You’re a special kind of asshole, aren’t you, Aiden?

  “Well she claims that you and Xander have superhuman powers,” he chuckled and while Aiden had been expecting such a response, it still made his heart stop.

  “Don’t I wish,” he replied dryly, willing his voice not to crack as he spoke.

  This is your own fault, he scolded himself furiously. If you had gone to visit her more often, she would not feel so abandoned and needing to broadcast everything she remembers.

  “But I am sure that can all be easily explained away. After all, my brother was quite a comic book aficionado in our youth. I am certain that we used those books to distract her when things were going badly in the house. She likely has confused one idea for the other.”

  “You are likely correct,” Dr. Cruthers agreed. “But there are other things also…”

  “Things like what?” Aiden’s tone was cutting but he couldn’t allow any questions about special powers to be raised.

  “Well…she still claims she is the one who killed your parents.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Aiden said sharply. “I think we have resolved that matter once and for all,” he paused, trying to calm himself. “But it sounds like she still has a lot to sort through. What kind of medication is she on?”

  “That’s just the thing, Mr. Van Hoyt. The cocktails aren’t working anymore because I think she’s suffering from too many disorders at once. She has personality disorder, depression, schizoid-delusions and anxiety. If we give her one thing, it will counteract the effects of the others. We have been trying for years to regulate her personality, but I feel like we’re fighting a losing battle at this point. This is not a life for any person, least of all a woman as vibrant and beautiful as Sarah.”

  A twinge of unease fluttered through Aiden as he suddenly realized his sister’s doctor was trying to present something to him, something he was not going to like in the least.

  “What do you suggest, doctor?” he asked slowly.

  There was a long silence and Aiden briefly wondered if he had lost connection. But as he opened his mouth to speak, Dr. Cruthers beat him to it.

  “I think that if you ever want Sarah to lead a full life, you should consider electroshock therapy for her, Mr. Van Hoyt.”

  Chapter Two

  “I’m not sure what it is you want me to do exactly,” Sage said, adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose. “I can’t really talk to a child if her father hasn’t consented.”

  Principal Bellajoy gave the psychologist a pinched look.

  “This is my entire problem,” the older woman grumbled. “It’s obvious the child has psychological issues and her father won’t do a damned thing about it!”

  Sage sat back and folded her arms over her chest, a flash of annoyance coursing through her curvaceous form.

  “How do you know she has mental issues?” she challenged. “She’s an eight-year-old girl who lost her mother and is being raised by a single, working father.”

  Bellajoy huffed, an ugly smirk forming on her lips.

  “I think you just answered your own question,” she replied smugly.

  Sage clenched her jaw and scowled at the principal.

  “Well clearly you don’t need me,” she pointed out, trying to hold her temper. “By all means, have the girl committed with your expert opinion.”

  Principal Bellajoy lost the self-satisfied look on her face and glowered.

  “Dr. Pierce, I am not trying to tell you how to do your job. I was hoping that you would care enough about this child’s well-being to intercede on her behalf, but I can see that you are very busy. Pardon me for interrupting your day. I will find someone else to rally for this child.”


  In a huff, she turned to leave the office, reaching to snatch Audrey Van Hoyt’s school file as she did.

  As the heavyset woman stormed out of the office, Sage rolled her eyes and sighed.

  A good, hard fuck would do that woman loads of good, Sage thought, as the door to her office slammed.

  This happened about once every three months or so with Bellajoy.

  The school principal would walk into her office with some “hard” case she had encountered in her school and beseech Sage to order the child medicated.

  Beseech is completely the wrong word for what Alice Bellajoy does, Sage corrected herself. Demands? Orders?

  It didn’t matter that Sage almost always disagreed with the principal’s assessments. Moreover, prescribing medications to developing brains was not something which Sage was in the habit of doing.

  She accuses me of being uncaring, but all she wants is quiet, uninterrupted classrooms. That’s just not normal with young children.

  Sage shook her layered dark hair and tried to push the unpleasant experience out of her mind. But as she turned back to the case files before her, Audrey’s plight began to roll around in her head.

  If it had been the first time principal Bellajoy had come into her office with such a file, or even the tenth, Sage probably would not have been so quick to dismiss her.

  After all, she was a child psychologist, and her duty was to catch any emerging problems with developing kids.

  But Bellajoy had pulled that same shit so many times over the years, Sage simply did not take her seriously anymore.

  She’s like a bitter bitch who keeps crying wolf, she thought. But did I just send her away with a legitimate case?

  From what she had read, it was not uncommon for a girl in Audrey’s shoes to lash out against authority. She had lost her mom and she would not stand for someone getting too near. Whether it was a teacher or a friend, the idea of her mother being replaced would not be tolerable for her.

  It didn’t matter that the intentions of those people would be altruistic; it mattered how Audrey perceived it.

  And there was a good chance that she was having a difficult time processing her grief.

  Two years is a long time for a child, she thought, drumming her pencil against the desk as the wheels in her head turned. If she has been manifesting anger all this time, she could be a ticking time bomb.

  An only child with a single dad…

  Things were beginning to add up, and Sage swallowed a low groan.

  Shit! Was the crazy principal actually right for once?

  The idea was appalling. The only thing more appalling was having to call her and ask for the file back again.

  I will never live this down, she thought. This will make things so much worse. She’ll keep coming, and if I say no, she’ll throw this one case in my face forever. I can’t call her.

  “Knock, knock.”

  She looked up as Jennica poked her blonde head through the doorway, an impish grin on her face.

  “Bad time?”

  “Ah, please come in and rescue me from the darkness of my own thoughts,” Sage pleaded. “Tell me you came equipped with Xanax.”

  Jennica snorted and slipped inside, flopping onto the loveseat by the far wall. She threw her long legs up on the sofa and grinned.

  “I don’t need drugs. I am getting fucked like a three-dollar whore on two-buck-Tuesday,” Jennica replied.

  Sage gasped and snorted with laughter.

  No matter how many conversations she had with her co-worker, the woman never ceased to make her laugh within seconds.

  “Oh, do tell me more,” Sage insisted. “I will live vicariously through you.”

  “Um, no offence, but there is no way your sweet, almost-virgin ass would live through that at all – vicariously or otherwise. Girl, I am talking acrobats, spins and flips…I could regale you with shit that would make your toes curl, but I worry about sullying your aura, or some shit.”

  Sage couldn’t stop giggling as Jennica continued, her face flushed as if she was recounting every minute of her sexual contortions as she lay on the couch, her black matte pumps crossed over.

  “We started at seven o’clock last night, completely blew off reservations at Alegria’s and did not stop until six o’clock this morning. I shit you not. I am so sore, I can barely walk.”

  Sage guffawed again but to her surprise, she found her ears growing warm at the thought of having unrelenting sex for eleven hours straight.

  She must be exaggerating, she thought, shaking her head. There’s no way…

  But it wouldn’t be the first time the resident psychiatrist had made such fanciful claims, and while Jennica Ryerson appeared to be a pinnacle of demureness on a professional level, Sage knew that what lay beneath that exterior was quite the opposite.

  “Who is this guy?” Sage asked, trying to cover her embarrassment.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know!” Jenn chortled and Sage laughed.

  “I have my hands full enough without missing twelve hours in a day,” Sage replied dryly, but she couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of envy toward the blonde.

  “Liar,” Jennica jibed. “How busy can you be when you’re still allowing Bellajoy to come in here unannounced.”

  “You saw her, huh?”

  “That’s the real reason I came down here after my session. I thought you might need saving.”

  “I got rid of her this time. I don’t think she’s coming back.”

  “Oh she’ll be back. Where the hell else is she going to go?” Jenn snickered. Sage felt a spark of guilt and she glanced sideways, trying to push down the shame she felt at not listening to Bellajoy while she presented Audrey’s case to her. Immediately Jennica’s trained eyes picked up on it.

  “Don’t even think about it!” Jennica instructed. “There is a counsellor at the elementary school. If those kids really needed help, the counsellor will find it for them.”

  “I know…”

  “But?” Jennica insisted. “You’ve decided to team up with the psycho and institutionalize all her students for her?”

  “Bellajoy?” Sage laughed. “God no. It’s just I think that the file she brought me today might be something.”

  Jennica swung her legs down and sat up to peer at her.

  “What is it?” she asked curiously, sensing the seriousness of her colleague’s tone.

  Sage shrugged.

  “A little girl lost her mom a couple years ago. She’s an only child being raised by a single dad who works a lot apparently.”

  “Acting out?”

  “Yes but not overtly. She draws pseudo-threatening pictures, makes covert threats. She toes the line so she never gets suspended, but there are warning signs that she’s in a dark place. She’s actually kind of brilliant in her threats.”

  “Hmm,” Jennica said. “Well it was bound to happen that Bellajoy would eventually stumble upon something. ‘If you look for trouble, you’ll find it’, as the old proverb goes. Are you making an appointment with the girl?”

  Sage gazed down at the desk.

  “I told Bellajoy to screw off and she took the file with her,” the psychologist confessed. “But I think I made a mistake. I’d like to talk to the girl and her father.”

  Jennica laughed.

  “Oh damn. At least tell me you got her name, so you don’t have to call that bitch.”

  “I got her name, yes,” Sage replied, her mind beginning to turn again as she looked at her friend. “I guess I can just look up her last name online and track her down that way. But that’s only assuming she has the same last name as her father.”

  “What’s the last name? If it’s something crazy, it still might be easy enough to find,” Jennica replied, rising to join Sage at the desk.

  “Van Hoyt. Her name is Audrey.”

  Jennica paused, a small smile freezing on her full mouth.

  “Are you fucking with me because of my sex stories?” she asked. “Because that’s not even funny.


  “Fucking with you? About what?”

  Sage was perplexed by the shift in conversation.

  “Audrey Van Hoyt? That’s the girl’s name. You’re sure?”

  Sage nodded, wracking her brain slowly.

  Should I know that name? Is it a former patient in the clinic?

  She voiced her question aloud and Jennica continued to gape at her.

  “Have you been living under a rock for the last five years?”

  More or less, Sage thought but she didn’t respond as she waited for Jennica to tell her what she wanted to know.

  “Sarah Van Hoyt? Xander Van Hoyt? Charles and Lisa Van Hoyt? Any of that ring a bell to you?”

  Something was tickling at the edge of Sage’s memory, but she was still not in the same place as her friend.

  “Okay, you’re starting to freak me out now, Jenn. Who are these people? A cult or something?”

  Jennica snorted.

  “Several years ago, Charles and Lisa Van Hoyt were stabbed to death in their house. Their daughter Sarah was initially arrested until her adopted brother Xander was eventually charged with it. I think he confessed, or something. Last I heard, she had been committed to Spring Grove in Catonsville and he was doing double life sentences at North Branch.”

  Sage’s mouth had fallen open, her jaw growing slacker with each word Jennica spoke.

  “You think that Audrey Van Hoyt is somehow related to the murder family?” she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. “How uncommon a name is Van Hoyt? There must be more than one in Maryland! Anyway, you just said the entire family is locked up or dead. Audrey couldn’t be Sarah or Xander’s kid…”

  Sage trailed off, trying to do the math in her head.

  “No, not their child,” Jennica sighed but Sage could tell there was more to the story and she braced herself as the blonde continued, her long, manicured fingers typing into the keyboard.

  “There is one more sibling if my memory serves me correctly.”

  A short silence ensued as both women stared at the results on the computer, shaking their heads in unison.