Mara shouted, “I can read now. I demanded they teach me in prison. They brought in the best, and I learned. I learned!”

“To make your father proud?”

“No. I don’t care what he thought.” But Mara’s voice faltered.

“When you were a child—didn’t anyone report him? Try to help you?”

“One teacher.” Mara smiled faintly. “Father was a powerful man in the community. I defended my father. She left town in disgrace.”

Kellen looked into Mara’s manic blue eyes. Damaged. Too damaged. The madness went clear to the bone. Nothing could have saved Mara. Nothing.

“Once when I brought home an award for mathematics, I was so smug. At last he would see I wasn’t stupid. Instead he stabbed three needles into me. Mathematics was destroying the natural world, and I should be ashamed of myself for being competent in an inferior subject.”

Kellen didn’t feel pity for the Mara that stood before her. But she pitied the child, sitting alone all night at a table, in the agony Kellen felt at this moment. “You poor little girl.”

“I’m not a poor little girl.”

Kellen looked around. Mara had disappeared. Was that a puff of smoke? “Come back,” she called. She didn’t want Mara with her, but more important, she didn’t want to be alone. And always, she harbored the impossible hope Mara would remove the needle.

Suddenly, Mara was back.

Suddenly, a glass of water balanced at the far edge of the dressing table.

Water. Kellen was so thirsty. “Water,” she whispered.

It was too far away. If Kellen reached for it, she’d hurt herself. And…and the drugs. Mara would give her more drugs. Kellen turned her face away—and shrieked in terror.

Mara leaned close, so close her face was wild and distorted. Here was the demon Kellen feared. She stroked Kellen’s shoulders, dodged into one side of her face, then the other side.

Kellen shrieked again.

Mara whispered, “See how the needle gets broader and thicker where the eye awaits its thread? It’s such a tiny bit of width, yet try to raise your hand and slide it off, and free yourself. Come on. Do it!”

That sounded reasonable; Kellen should be able to end the agony with a simple motion. She tried, and one inch of rise equaled a burst of agony. She dropped her head in defeat. Tears rose and leaked from her eyes.

“See? It’s not so easy. For you…you’re weak.” Mara was triumphant. “For me… I endured it for seven years, from the time I entered school until I was twelve. At last, one night I wasn’t afraid anymore. I pulled my hand off the needle, and I ended my torment…forever.”

“How?” Kellen knew. She knew. But she had to hear the details.