“Do you think ghosts can talk to you through the computer?” Cora asked as she flipped to a new page in the notebook and started drawing the outline of a cat.

Here we were. I needed to be very careful. If Cora revealed to me that someone, perhaps a predator, had been communicating with her online, I would have to share the information with law enforcement. A delicate dance we do in the mental health world. Honoring patient-doctor privilege and keeping our patients safe from harm.

“Has someone been talking to you online, Cora, and telling you that he’s a ghost?” I asked.

Cora reached for a marker and colored the cat’s eyes green. “His name is Joseph and he lived a long time ago,” she said.

“What else does he tell you?” I asked gently, not wanting to push too hard.

Instead of answering, Cora wrote Skittles above the picture of the cat and then For Dr. G. from Cora at the bottom. She tore the sheet from the notebook and handed it to me.

“This must be your cat,” I said. “She’s pretty.”

“Not that damn cat again,” Jim Landry said from the doorway. “Cora, enough’s enough.”

“We brought ice cream,” Mara said brightly, coming in behind her husband and holding up two shakes. “Chocolate or strawberry. You pick.” Kendall shuffled in, carrying her own shake. She looked exhausted.

“We’ll talk more later,” I told Cora, reluctant to end our conversation. “Thank you for the picture and enjoy your ice cream.”

I said goodbye to the Landrys and went directly to my office to record everything I could remember about my conversation with Cora. I remember thinking that I should probably call the police. But I didn’t. I wanted more information. I needed more time to talk to Cora in order to put together the pieces of the puzzle.

Case #92-10945

Case #92-10945

Excerpt from the journal of Cora E. Landry

Dec. 22, 2017

I want to die. The presentation was a disaster. I am so stupid. The movie was fine. Everyone clapped and Mr. Dover said we did an amazing job. The problems started during the question and answer part of the presentation and Bailey asked how many girls were supposedly killed by Wither and how many disappeared because of him.

I went back to my desk and pulled the yearbook from beneath a pile of my books and opened it to the page with Rachel Farmer’s picture. I’m not sure why I brought it up. I told Violet and Jordyn I wouldn’t but I did. I told everyone that most of what we read was that there were six girls who disappeared. But there were really seven because Rachel ran away with Joseph Wither back in 1991.