There are two questions we’re trying to answer with each child:

What’s going on in this child’s head that I wish weren’t (e.g., cognitive distortions)? What isn’t going on in this child’s head that I wish were (e.g., cognitive deficiencies)? You answer these two questions, you can learn a lot about a kid.

Twenty-four hours later, I needed to learn a lot more about Lucy.

First, I filled a giant bucket with water, then carried it to her room. I didn’t look at her when I entered, didn’t acknowledge her in any way. I set down the bucket, then gave her my back.

I counted to ten.

When she didn’t attack, I moved to phase two: I pulled a small sponge out of my pocket, dipped it into the water, and starting scrubbing the nearest wall. I still didn’t look at her. If attention is one of her triggers, then my job’s not to give her any attention.

After another minute, I started to hum. Something low and melodic. Some children respond positively to rhythmic music; I was curious about Lucy.

She still didn’t react, so I grew more serious. I scrubbed feces and blood off all four walls. Then I picked up my bucket and disappeared.

Now the moment of judgment: Will Lucy leave the space as is, or will she feel a need to trash her room again, to violate her personal space as she seems to feel a need to violate herself?

When twenty minutes passed without any drama, I brought her lunch. Cut-up vegetables, a cheese stick, some fresh bread, a cup of water. I stood in the hallway where I could monitor her reflection in the silver ceiling globe without being seen.

Lucy went after the bread first. She picked it up between her hands and squished it into a ball, then placed it on the floor and watched it slowly expand. Then she resquished it, until the bread was balled tight enough to bat around on the carpet.

She played with her food for a bit, content in her catlike alter ego. I wondered why a cat. What was it about felines that she thought would keep her safe?

After a bit, she picked up the bread ball between her cupped hands and ate it. She licked her hands afterward, then lapped up some water from the cup. The cheese suffered the same fate as the bread. She didn’t eat the vegetables but hid them under her mattress. I wasn’t surprised. Lots of kids hoarded food, maybe due to compulsion, or from a long history of going hungry. I left the vegetables for now, if only to see what she’d do with them later.

Thirty minutes later, I entered Lucy’s room to fetch her plate and cup. I kept my back to her. No displays, so we were making progress.