Over Nathaniel's head, I meet Caleb's eyes. "No you're not, sweetheart. Running away, that wasn't good. You could have been hurt; and you worried me and Daddy like you can't believe." I hesitate, picking my words. "But you can do a bad thing and not be a bad person."
"Like Father Gwynne?"
I freeze. "Actually, no. He did a bad thing, and he was a bad person."
Nathaniel looks up at me. "What about you?"
Shortly after Dr. Robichaud, Nathaniel's psychiatrist, takes the stand, Quentin Brown is on his feet to object. "Your Honor, what does this witness have to offer?"
"Judge, this goes to my client's state of mind," Fisher argues. "The information she received from Dr.
Robichaud regarding her son's declining condition was highly relevant to her mental status on October thirtieth."
"I'll allow it," Judge Neal rules.
"Doctor, have you treated other children who were rendered mute after sexual abuse?" Fisher asks.
"Yes, unfortunately."
"In some of these cases, do children never regain their voices?"
"It can take years."
"Did you have any way of knowing whether this would be a long-term condition for Nathaniel Frost?"
"No," Dr. Robichaud says. "In fact, that was why I began to teach him rudimentary sign language. He was becoming frustrated with his inability to communicate."
"Did it help?"
"For a while," the psychiatrist admits. "Then he began talking again."
"Was the progress steady?"
"No. It broke down when Nathaniel lost contact with Mrs. Frost for a week."
"Do you know why?"
"I understood she was charged with violating her bail conditions and was imprisoned."
"Did you see Nathaniel during the week that his mother was in jail?"
"Yes, I did. Mr. Frost brought him in, quite upset that the child was no longer speaking. He'd regressed to the point where all he would sign for was his mother."
"In your opinion, what caused that regression?"
"Clearly, it was the sudden and prolonged separation from Mrs. Frost," Dr. Robichaud says.
"How did Nathaniel's condition change when his mother was released again?"
"He cried out for her." The psychiatrist smiles. "A joyful noise."
"And, Doctor, were he to undergo a sudden and prolonged separation from his mother again . . . what do you think the likely outcome would be for Nathaniel?"
"Objection!" Quentin calls.
"Withdrawn."
Moments later, the prosecutor stands up to cross-examine. "In dealing with five-year-olds, Doctor, don't you find that they often become confused about events?"
