Thomas breathes an inward sigh of relief. Surely if Cora blamed Jordyn for the attack in the train yard, then she wouldn’t suggest plans to make bracelets together.

“What is she doing here?” a shrill voice comes from the doorway. Jordyn and Cora freeze in place and stare in surprise at the teenage girl who has swept into the room, face stormy with anger. Thomas’s moment of relief is instantly replaced with dread.

“Kendall,” Mara says sharply. “That’s rude.”

“She’s rude!” Kendall snaps back. “She’s been awful to Cora the last few months.

“How can you even show your face here?” Kendall asks Jordyn, who looks to her grandfather for help. Thomas doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay,” Cora says in a small voice.

“It’s not,” Kendall shoots back. “It’s not okay! She made you cry every day for weeks. And don’t tell me that’s not true. I heard you! She’s not your friend, Cora.”

“Kendall, go outside,” Mara says in a shaky voice. “Right now.”

“You are so gullible,” Kendall persists. “You let people walk all over you. For once stand up for yourself. And you—” She turns to Jordyn.

“Jordyn, let’s go,” Thomas interrupts, finally able to speak. Jordyn rises from her seat, murmurs goodbye to Cora and skirts past Kendall.

“Stay away from my sister!” Kendall calls after them as they rush from the room past a tall woman lingering in the doorway.

In silence Thomas and Jordyn move through the hallways, Jordyn blinking back tears, Thomas biting his tongue. Thomas waits until they are in the truck before he speaks. “What did you do to her?” he asks Jordyn. “What did you do to that little girl?”

Dr. Madeline Gideon September 14, 2018

Dr. Madeline Gideon

September 14, 2018

I found Cora sitting up in her hospital bed watching television. Mara told me she planned on being away from Cora’s room during our morning meeting so we could have some privacy. I knew this was hard for her and understandably so, but I convinced her that this time to talk freely would be good for Cora.

She was still connected to an IV and her head was swathed in bandages. A half-eaten breakfast tray sat in front of her. I was glad to see she had at least eaten something. Next to the tray there were two bracelets made out of beads and another in purple hues on Cora’s wrist. “Those are pretty,” I said, coming to her side. “Did someone make them for you?”

“My friend Jordyn came. She brought a kit and we started to make a few.” Cora’s speech was still a bit slurred from her injuries but the swelling in her lips had gone down.

“I saw,” I said. “I looked in but didn’t want to interrupt your visit. I also saw your sister came in. She seemed very upset at your friend.”