It wasn’t easy to convince Gaspar to go to another psychiatrist. Julieta had recommended one who specialized in children with serious problems—with psychosis, but that word wasn’t mentioned. She was the sister of a famous pediatrician in La Plata, a leftist but very anti-Perón, and very sweet. Luis went to meet her himself before making an appointment for his nephew: he liked everything he saw, the house with its wooden stairs, the simple decorations on the tables—handicrafts, family photos—and the cats who barely opened their eyes when they sensed movement. And he especially liked the doctor herself, short and a little stooped, a woman over sixty years old who hugged him as if they were friends and seemed to understand him immediately: he didn’t need to tell her about the weeks of withdrawal after the first, failed treatment, with Gaspar screaming that he saw Adela in the corners of the house or his father beside him in bed. That’s how the boy woke up: he opened his eyes and saw his father lying down, his head on the same pillow. Sometimes he saw Juan dead, other times alive, but the day always started with those screams, sometimes followed by hours that Gaspar spent motionless in bed with his eyes open and his pupils dilated. Luis talked to him and the boy didn’t respond, didn’t seem to hear him, just blinked and furrowed his brow; he was somewhere else.

“Another psychiatrist told me hallucinations can be common after a trauma.”

“That’s what we’re going to evaluate. Go on, tell me about it. It must have been atrocious for him, being there when his friend disappeared. Does Gaspar talk about death?”

“He says that if he’s crazy there’s no point in living.”

“You just told me you found a knife under his mattress and that he talked about suicide.”

“He’s thirteen years old—I don’t know whether to take it seriously.”

“Teenagers often commit suicide.”

They also talked about how to initiate treatment and break with the other psychiatrist. Let me take care of it, I know him, we all know each other in this profession. It’s best for Gaspar if his doctor is near his home and he doesn’t have to go into Buenos Aires several times a week. A bad relationship with his doctor could bring on unnecessary crises. I’ll take care of it. There won’t be legal problems, I know the system, too. I used to work in institutions.

“What about the medication? Gaspar says it doesn’t help, just makes him feels worse.”

The psychiatrist hesitated.