Eustice Mudd’s office was situated about two miles down the road from O’Leary’s. It was a fairly modern brick building with a large parking lot and a sign that read ST. BOUDIN MEDICAL CENTER, with the names of the four practitioners printed in large, gold letters.

Jessie hadn’t said a word since David left the car. That in itself wasn’t unusual. Whenever she became nervous or frightened, she clammed up, almost without exception.

She got out on her side looking timid, and gripping Johnny Bear in her arms. At times like these, it was good for her to bring the bear along, though Helen occasionally felt pangs of irrational jealousy towards the thing. Jessie seemed to get more comfort from it than from her mother.

There were many times, she reminded herself, that Johnny Bear kept Jessie occupied when her parents had their hands full with something else. For that, she was thankful.

She took her daughter by the hand and walked through the cold winter air to the front doors. Inside, she slipped off her hat and gloves and held Johnny Bear while Jessie did the same. They were facing a carpeted staircase with a set of elevators to their right. A sign on the wall pointed upward to Dr. Mudd’s office.

It looked like any other doctor’s waiting room—magazines piled on end tables, prints in simple frames tacked to the wall. The receptionist sat behind a desk at the far end of the room, guarding the entrance to the doctor’s chambers.

Helen went over to her and introduced herself. The receptionist, a young and overly made-up woman with frosted hair, nodded and smiled brightly. “He’ll be right with you. You can wait over there.”

Helen took a seat along the wall next to the magazines, but none of them interested her particularly. Jessie remained silent. What’s going on in your head? she wondered. What do you see in there when you go places nobody else can go?

Jessie stared straight ahead, Johnny Bear held close in her arms. She looked like a little angel. Helen felt a great, unshakable sorrow well within her until tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. If they needed to leave Jackson to help her, well then they would do it, and to hell with the job. Ends would meet somehow; in any case, no job was worth their daughter’s sanity.

“Dr. Mudd is ready for you,” the receptionist said.

Helen wiped quickly at the tears that had welled up and took her daughter’s hand once again.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go see what the doctor has to say.”