“What does that even mean?” Daniel said. “An episode?”

“He became extremely agitated—”

“It’s because there’s nothing here to help him remember,” I said. “I’d be agitated if I woke up in a place I didn’t know.”

“That may be true, Ms. Farrell, I don’t deny his right to those feelings. But his outburst went beyond disorientation. I’m afraid I’d have to call it paranoia. And it makes me question whether this is the right facility for him. Perhaps he would be better suited to a place that can care for those specific needs.”

“Paranoia?” Daniel asked.

“Yes. He was yelling that someone was after his daughter, and he refused to remain here. He was unmanageable. He became violent, insisting that he had to get out, get to you. Help you.” She stared at me, and I looked away, imagining him yelling for his daughter—for me. My spine tingled, paranoia or not.

“It took two men to restrain him so a doctor could sedate him. But all he kept saying was ‘My daughter’s not safe.’”

I felt Daniel staring at my face. The chill moved up my spine, hollowing out the room and my stomach and my lungs.

“If this was an event in the past, I could understand,” she continued. “That would be more in line with what we know of his condition. Was it? Were you once in danger, Ms. Farrell?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s happening to him.” His words echoing over and over, as if I’d heard them myself.

“Well, as I said, the paranoid delusions make me question if he’s in the right facility,” she said, driving home the point of our meeting.

“It’s my fault,” Daniel said.

“Excuse me?” Karen said. We were both staring at him; his cheeks were burning as if he’d been working in the sun too long.

“Our neighbor went missing. Annaleise Carter? Maybe you’ve seen it on the news? I told him. I realize in hindsight that was a mistake. It just slipped out. She disappeared in the woods behind our house, where my sister is staying. I wanted him to hear it from me and not the news. I shouldn’t have told him. I’m sorry. It’s not paranoia, though. It’s confusion. It’s a mistake.”

Karen tilted her head to the side, assessing my brother’s words. She finally nodded. “That’s understandable. Upsetting, to say the least. We will need to continue to monitor him, however. If this becomes a pattern . . .”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Let me,” I said. “I’m the one he was talking about.” I was glad that I was standing, glad for the confidence in my posture.

Karen stood. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Without the restraints,” I said.

* * *

DANIEL WENT TO THE cafeteria to order three lunches to bring back to Dad’s room. I was sitting cross-legged on the chair in the corner, drinking a soda from the vending machine, when Dad finally woke. There was an orderly in the room near the door, per Karen’s request.

“Hi, Dad,” I said tentatively.

He rubbed absently at his wrists, and I could see the red chafing mark against his wrist bone. I leaned over his bed so he’d see me before he saw the room he didn’t own and the man he didn’t know.

“You’re okay,” I said. “I’m okay.”

He pushed himself up and winced. “Nic?” he said, his eyes focusing, narrowing, roaming.

“You’re at Grand Pines, and you’re fine, and I’m here, and I’m fine.”

He reached his hand, placed it on the side of my face. “Nic, thank God. Nic. It’s not safe for you.”

“Shh, Dad,” I said, looking at the man beside the door. “I’m fine.” Daniel walked in with our lunches at that moment, three stacked Styrofoam boxes. “And Daniel’s here, see? We’re fine.”

Dad sat up like a child in bed after a nightmare, both relieved and terrified. He looked at Daniel, at me, at the man beside the door. “You’ll take care of her?” he said to Daniel.

Daniel opened the boxes, looked inside each, and passed them out. “Yes, Dad,” he said, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. “You can’t let yourself get worked up, okay?”

Dad rubbed at his wrists again, like he couldn’t remember if something was supposed to be there.

“Dad,” Daniel said, “it’s important.”

I leaned forward, spreading a napkin on Dad’s lap. “Dad, everything’s fine.”

He stared at Daniel. “Promise me,” he said. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Daniel already had food in his mouth. Nothing could kill his appetite. He kept his eyes on Dad. “You know I will,” he said as he chewed.

Karen Addelson came in with the doctor. “How’s everything going in here? Patrick? Are you feeling better?”

“What? Oh, yes. Yes.” He grabbed his sandwich like he was playing a part. “This is my daughter. Have you met? Nic, meet the Lady in Charge. Lady in Charge, meet my daughter.”

“Nice to meet you,” both Karen and I said. “Now, Patrick,” Karen went on, “how about we sleep this off? Have your lunch, and the doctor will give you something. We’ll discuss this tomorrow. Okay?”

I nodded encouragingly. Daniel nodded. Dad looked between the two of us and nodded until she left the room. He gripped my wrist. “Promise me, Nic.”

“I promise,” I said. I had no clue what he was asking or what I was agreeing to. I had a feeling it was better for us that way.

* * *

KAREN MET US BACK at the front desk. “We’ll assess him tomorrow. Determine the best course of action. Let’s plan on meeting again next week.” She handed me her card. “We’ll be in touch.”

Daniel and I remained silent, one foot in front of the other, goodbye to the receptionist, thank you to the man holding the door, until we were back in the overheated car, driving with the windows rolled down until the air conditioner kicked in.

“What the hell was that about?” I asked.

“Hell if I know,” he said, both hands circling the steering wheel, the afternoon sun reflecting off the pavement like water.

“Did you really tell him about Annaleise? Or was that just the first thing you could think of?”

“No,” he said. “I really did.”