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thigh. Her focus shifted rapidly between the doctor seated behind his desk and Eve’s stroller by her side.

“Are you saying it’s not true?”

“Who told you?”

“She murdered him for raping you. That was your first pregnancy, wasn’t it?”

“Stop! Stop!” Dawn covered her ears and closed her eyes. “Those are all lies!”

“Tell me, Dawn. Tell me about that first miscarriage.”

Dawn looked up, tears streaming across her flushed cheeks. She lowered her arms to her side, her hands now curled into red balls. Dawn glared at Dr. Cole and said, “I’m not talking about this.”

“Your mother was found not guilty by reason of insanity,” Dr. Cole glanced at the notes Flo had given him. “She’s been in the Beaumont Psychiatric Center in Rye since the trial ended seventeen years ago. Do you know what her mental diagnosis is?”

“I don’t care!” Dawn shoved the rest of her pastry back into the paper bag and tossed it and her coffee into the stroller. A bit of the coffee spilled onto Eve’s tattered red dress. The doll’s eyes suddenly clicked open. Dawn slowly stood up and stared at the open folders on the doctor’s desk and asked, “Are you spying on me?”

“Spying? Please sit down. Why did you keep this from me? Your family history is critical to your therapy. Your father’s abuse had to be traumatizing. And your mother’s condition may be hereditary. Dawn, it’s important we–”

“She was right.” Dawn snatched her coat from the chair and stared at Eve briefly before setting her sights on the doctor. “You can’t trust a caretaker.”

“Who? Who was right?”

“Eve.”

Dawn sighed and shook her head as she slid her arms into her fur coat. She cast the ticking wall clock a look of disapproval.

“Do you mean something you read in her diary?” Dr. Cole stood up, keeping his voice as calm and soothing as possible. Inside, his concern grew exponentially. “Can you please sit back down?”

“No. I have nothing else to say.”

Panic filled Dr. Cole as he watched Dawn struggle to secure her coat. He couldn’t let her leave without understanding what she meant. He walked around the desk and slowly approached Dawn.

“Have your dreams returned?” Dr. Cole asked. “What about the voices?”

“Eve ended those nightmares.”

“And the voices?”

Dawn refused to look the doctor in the eye. She tossed her sunglasses on, grabbed the stroller, and made her way to the office door.

“Dawn, this is important,” Dr. Cole said. “Please tell me what you meant when you said Eve was right. Do you hear her?”

Dawn opened the door and walked backward, pulling the stroller with her. Once in the waiting room, she spun around, banging the carriage against Flo’s desk. Luna, resting nearby, hissed and jumped away.

Flo stood up, looking shocked and confused. Dawn didn’t acknowledge her and struggled to open the main door. Flo walked around the desk to help her.

“Stay away!” Dawn yelled as she whipped the door open.

Flo stopped dead in her tracks and watched Dawn ram the carriage through the doorway, clipping the frame. As Dawn disappeared down the hallway, Flo slowly walked to the exit and closed the door. She turned to her husband and asked, “What the hell happened?”

Dr. Cole joined his wife in the waiting room and said, “Her mental state. It’s . . . it’s . . . .”

“You told me this isn’t postpartum. What is it?”

“It’s . . . worse than I thought.”

∞∞∞

Dawn took long strides as she pushed the carriage along the High Line. She wasn’t ready to go home and needed to de-stress. Inside the stroller, her coffee, now ice cold, sloshed around in the open cup, spilling chestnut-hued stains against Eve’s dress and the white satin lining. The doll’s jewel-like open eyes reflected the nearby towering Spire. Pedestrians quickly moved aside as Dawn rushed along.

“They both lied!” Dawn flipped her sunglasses atop her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “All these months trusting him. How long has he known the truth about my mother? How long has he known Jacob?”

As Dawn maneuvered around an elderly couple holding hands, she bumped the legs of someone leaning against the railing. The person turned around and cried out in pain. Dawn ignored their cries and continued onward.

“Miss Easton?” asked a voice from behind her.

Dawn stopped and looked back. The woman she’d hit took a few steps forward, limping slightly. The stranger smiled as she sipped her coffee. Dawn looked her up and down and said, “Yes. Do I know you?”

“I’m Gwen. From New York Women’s Care.” Gwen stopped beside the stroller. “I did your ultrasound back in May.”

“Oh.” Dawn squinted as she studied Gwen’s face. She cleared her mind to try and recall that visit seven months ago. “Gwen? Oh right, you were covering for Jill.”

“Yes. That was such a crazy weekend with so many people out sick.” Gwen looked into the stroller. She frowned as her eyes settled on the coffee and wine stains covering the untidy-looking doll. “How, um, how are you?”

“This is Eve,” Dawn said. “She’s helping me.”

“Oh. I . . . I see.” Gwen paused and studied the doll. “I heard about your miscarriage. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Dawn watched Gwen take another sip of coffee. She noticed a wedding and engagement ring on her hand. “You . . . you got married?”

“Yes!” Gwen held her hand up and waved her fingers. “Labor Day weekend. It was lovely.” Gwen glanced at Dawn’s hand. Her smile faded. “Well, I should get going.”

Dawn held her hand up and said, “Jacob never proposed. He couldn’t deal with me losing my baby. We were so happy until the miscarriage. Everything changed after that.”

“I’m sorry to hear.” Gwen removed the top of her coffee cup and blew against the liquid, sending steam rising into the cool air. “If I remember, you were at risk for a miscarriage. Given your history.”

“That was such an awful night.” Dawn closed her eyes and recalled Jacob emerging from beneath the sheets, his hands covered in blood. She opened her eyes and bit her upper

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