“No!” She spoke sharply. Melancholia had been her mother’s diagnosis during her dark spells. Anna resisted the word. She was not like her mother. “Melancholy” didn’t capture how she felt. She was angry about what Martin had done to her. What he’d taken from her. And she felt sick to her stomach with guilt, and scared to death. But the doctor didn’t ask her about any of that.

“Miss Myrtle thinks you might be working too hard,” the doctor said.

“I’ll slow down,” she said, thinking, If I got any slower, I’d be dead. She was now spending her time in the warehouse either staring into space, thinking of nothing, really, or telling Jesse how to do what still needed to be done on the mural. Jesse kept trying to get her to pick up a brush and work on it herself, but she had no interest.

“When was your last menstrual period?” the doctor asked.

She was surprised by the question, and she didn’t know the answer. She’d never kept good track.

“Three weeks ago,” she said, but she started thinking about the sanitary belt in her lingerie drawer. When was the last time she’d had to wear that wretched thing? When did she last reach into the box of sanitary pads?

She made herself think about something else. The way the doctor’s mustache was uneven, one side higher than the other. That made her smile.

“Why are you smiling?” He smiled warmly back at her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I’m happy.”

She waited until he’d left her room before she burst into tears.

Chapter 55. Morgan

Chapter 55

MORGAN

July 27, 2018

I handed my signed AA attendance form to Rebecca as I took my seat next to her desk.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. I was only late by five or six minutes, but the last thing I wanted to do was irk Rebecca. I’d lost myself in the mural that morning. Absolutely lost myself. I’d been working on the silver handle of the knife in the peanut factory worker’s mouth. It took me hours to do the inpainting. I did it perfectly, though. I was tempted to call Oliver over to have him tell me how awesome it was, but I didn’t need his approval anymore. I knew it was awesome. Even sitting there next to Rebecca’s desk, I could still see the sheen of the silver blade and the line of shadow where no light hit the handle.

“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary today,” Rebecca said, looking up from the AA form. “What’s up with you?”

“I did amazing work today,” I said. “Amazing work all week, actually. It feels good.”

Rebecca raised her eyebrows, then smiled. “That’s nice to hear,” she said.