Before he put in the stitches, the doctor covered Sarah’s face with a sheet. Her body looked pale on the hospital bed, the white cloth giving only the smallest details of her nose and chin. It reminded Marianne of crime scene photographs where something is tossed over the victim’s head.

The doctor hummed as he sewed Sarah’s skin together. Marianne was sure he thought she was a terrible mother. She dragged a metal folding chair over to the bed and quietly took her daughter’s hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d held it. Was she six, seven? Had they crossed a street? She noticed that her fingernails looked bitten.

“Almost there,” said the doctor. A television in the corner showed a picture of a game show. Someone was winning, but there wasn’t any sound.

Down the hall Richard filled out medical forms with a nurse. He stopped at the watercooler on his way back to the waiting room. The stream was weak, but it felt good to wet his lips. He called Dr. Snow from the pay phone, keeping an eye on Lucas slumped over a magazine in the corner.

“The drugs aren’t working.”

“Sometimes this is the case.”

“He’s getting worse.”

Dr. Snow sighed. “Attacking siblings is quite common.” She suggested family therapy. She scheduled a meeting for the following day. They should go home and get some rest. “Order Chinese,” she said. “Something easy.”

When the car pulled into the driveway, Richard saw their neighbor. He could tell something was wrong by the way her skirt was twisted.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said as Richard rolled down the window. “My cat won’t leave your yard.”

“Just a minute,” said Richard. He stepped from the car and opened the back. Lucas dashed up the porch stairs, pushing Marianne out of the way as he went through the door. Richard turned to the neighbor. “This isn’t really the best time.”

“It’s all right,” said Marianne. “I’ll take her.” She put the house keys in her pocket and eased Sarah out of the car. It was hard for Richard to look. A large white bandage was taped across Sarah’s forehead, and he could see a section of baldness where the doctor shaved her hair.

“What happened?” the neighbor asked.

“Nothing.” Richard forced himself to grin. “Just an accident.”

“She looks hurt!”

“She’s okay.” Marianne lifted Sarah onto her shoulder.

“I’m not okay,” said Sarah.

“You just need some rest.”

“I want the TV in my room.”

“You’ll get it.” Marianne carried her daughter up the stairs. “Happy now?” Sarah hid her face.

“So,” said Richard. “What’s the problem?”

The cat was in the backyard, fixed in one spot.