“Hold her down,” says the first nurse. Arms are across my body, pushing me back to the mattress, and then there is the burn of a needle, and then nothing.
•••
When I wake the second time, it is not to the imagined voice of my mother but to the voice of Dr. Townsend, standing at the foot of my bed, saying my name. I do not feel weightless this time; I feel like I am made of iron—a statue. It’s as if I have been turned to stone. I realize my arms and legs are tied to the bed.
“I would like to have a conversation with you,” Dr. Townsend says, “about what you did and what’s been done to you, but we can’t have that conversation unless you are in control of yourself. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Where is Amaryllis?” My voice sounds mushy in my ears.
“She’s back in the nursery where she belongs. You could’ve done that child great harm doing what you did. You’re lucky she’s all right.”
Tears burn my eyes, and I can’t rub them away. “I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“But that’s exactly what you did. Are you ready to talk, Rosie? We have matters to discuss.”
“Where is Belle?”
“Belle is not your concern. Are we going to be able to have that conversation or not?”
I nod.
“Your foolish attempt to escape could have cost you your life. The stairs, the running, all of it caused you to start bleeding. You also could have easily dislocated your shoulder, and you have a sizable contusion on your head and a fractured cheekbone. But that’s not the worst of it. You could’ve killed the baby with the fall you took.”
“I protected her,” I whisper through my tears.
“You endangered her life.”
A sob escapes me, and he goes on.
“I told you Belle was a bad influence and you did not listen to me. We shall be careful hereafter who you room with.”
I swallow back another sob. “Where is Belle? Did she get away?”
“Belle shall be found. Your concern should be on what’s going to happen next with you.”
“You cut into me.”
“You had a simple procedure from which you will quickly recover.”
“You cut me open! You cut something out of me! I know you did. And now I’ll never have another baby! How could you do that to me?” Fresh tears course down my cheeks, and Dr. Townsend seems to soften.
“Listen to me, Rosie,” he says. “I’ve been a doctor for a long time. I have seen what happens to people like you who are burdened and who burden others with an inherited abnormality. It is inhumane for you to likewise force that abnormality onto another person.”
“My... abnormality?”
“What happens to you with auditory stimulation is an aberration. It’s abnormal. It is nothing you should wish to inflict on another person.”
“But they’re just colors! Seeing them isn’t some terrible thing!”
“Look at where you are and all that has befallen you and tell me again it’s not a terrible thing. The wires in your brain are crossed, Rosie. They are mixed up. If you were any kind of suitable mother, you would realize that you should not pass on this disability to a child. A good person would not do that.”
Sobs wrack my body as I ponder that maybe he is right.
“Does Amaryllis have it?” I ask through my tears. “Did I give it to her?”
“No one will know for several years if you have saddled her with it. I hope she has been spared. I really do.”
I am quiet for a moment as my sobs subside. “Is that why you do this here? Why you cut people open like this?”
