Page 25 - tsp1245

Elif remained standing. “And what about the pool cue?”
The question was addressed to Diomedes—and he looked at me, waiting for me to answer it. “Elif, I can see you’re angry about the pool cue,” I said. “I suspect whoever broke it was also
angry. It raises the question of what we do with anger in an institution like this. How about we stick with that and talk about anger for a moment? Won’t you sit down?”
Elif rolled her eyes. But she sat down.
Indira nodded, looking pleased. We started talking about anger, Indira and I, trying to draw the patients into a discussion about their angry feelings. We worked well together, I thought. I could sense Diomedes watching, evaluating my performance. He seemed satisfied.
I glanced at Alicia. And to my surprise, she was looking at me—or at least in my direction. There was a dim fogginess in her expression—as if it was a struggle to focus her eyes and see.
If you told me this broken shell had once been the brilliant Alicia Berenson, described by those who knew her as dazzling, fascinating, full of life—I simply wouldn’t have believed you. I knew then and there I’d made the right decision in coming to the Grove. All my doubts vanished. I became resolved to stop at nothing until Alicia became my patient.
There was no time to waste: Alicia was lost. She was missing. And I intended to find her.