“Come now, Mother,” he said, his voice dropping back into its soothing, professional register. “Let’s get you settled. Sarah needs to go check on Lily.”

The mention of our daughter’s name felt like a cold splash of water.

I stood up from the bed, my knees stiff.

Eleanor let go of my wrist, her hand falling back onto the quilt like a dead leaf.

Her eyes stayed fixed on me, wide and pleading, begging me not to leave her alone with him.

“I’ll go check on Lily,” I said, backing toward the door.

“Thank you,” Nathan said, not looking up as he gently pressed the medicine cup into Eleanor’s hand. “We will be down in a few minutes.”

I opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway.

The air out here felt cooler, but the silence of the house pressed against my ears.

I walked down the carpeted stairs, my hand sliding along the polished wooden banister.

My mind was spinning, Eleanor’s words repeating like a broken record. *Under the old floorboards near the water heater. What he did to his first patient.*