The Sanctuary Beyond the Undergrowth

Winter is long and painful. My doctor told me I’ve lost too much weight and I need to gain some if I want to sustain my silky hair and alert brain. I told him I couldn’t eat, because I’m sick. When I was escorted out of the office, he and Mother discussed treatment. “She isn’t well,” he whispered to her, making sure I didn’t hear. “I can refer you to a good psychiatrist for her to talk to. Will that be alright?”

Mother said no and took me home.