The creatures had forgotten themselves, and were watching her, listening to her attempt to lie her way to freedom. She glanced at them and the one on the right, who looked like Morgan in his yellow vest but who she knew was really named Selver, squeaked and struggled, baby-like, to fit his fist in his mouth. His arm hit out at the other one, the one she now knew was called Bishop, and he started to cry, an absurd facsimile of a baby’s cry. She picked him up, cuddling him close as her skin crawled, as the doctor watched. She laid him on her knees and tickled his tummy, and the thing smiled at her with only his mouth, making a poor imitation of a giggle.

“May I?” asked the doctor, indicating the baby in yellow on the rug.

“Of course,” said Lauren, smiling pleasantly, ensuring she made her eyes smile, too.

Reaching for the baby, not looking at Lauren, the doctor threw out another loaded question disguised as idle conversation. “I’m curious,” she said, “on the day you were brought in, you say that you quickly realised the babies weren’t changelings, and were in fact your children. But later you also reacted badly to seeing the babies when your husband brought them to your room. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” said Lauren, still regretting her inability to control herself at that crucial early stage.

“So perhaps you still thought, at that point, that they’d been switched?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. But it was over very quickly. And since then, I’ve been absolutely fine.” Haven’t I been fine? she thought. Won’t you just admit that I have, so we can get this over with and I can go home?

The doctor sat heavily back in the chair, the baby in her hands, dangling there. It had gone stiff again; she could stand it up on her ten-deniered knees. “Nurse Pauline gave you a glowing report,” said Doctor Summer, grunting with the effort of trying to make the creature sit. The thing was board-stiff, unyielding. “Even on that night, she said you made excellent progress.”

“She did?” Lauren managed to sound surprised, even though she’d dictated the notes herself, forcing Pauline to add bad grammar, just like the notes she’d flushed, to make it seem authentic.

“She said you very soon recovered, and within an hour were able and willing to feed the boys yourself.”

“Yes, that’s right. I think the stroller had a lot of negative associations for me. I reacted badly when I saw it because it reminded me of the abduction. The fear of losing them again overwhelmed me.”

“That’s completely understandable, in your position.”