From his lookout in the turret, Gessen trained his binoculars on Vidor and Libby, bundled into identical grey parkas and red knitted caps, as they walked in the direction of the sculpture garden. Gessen required the patients to wear the red wool cap outside at all times in winter. Some resisted or complained, but it was easier to spot anyone who fell into a snowbank or got confused and wandered off.

Libby had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her coat and appeared to be deep in conversation with Vidor. Yesterday, when Gessen had asked him who Malik Sayid was, the response was abrupt, even surly. Not a clue. Was it Gessen’s imagination that Vidor had become disoriented for several seconds before shaking it off? These signs, though vague, could point to something. But if this were truly a case of multiple personality, rather than an assumed identity, Gessen would have to force the second, less dominant personality, Vidor’s alter, to show his face. Awakening olfactory memories with evocative scents was one strategy. The almond biscuits had seemed to elicit a minor change in Vidor’s manner, and brought forth rambling memories of a desert city.

When Libby and Vidor reached the sculpture garden, they stopped in front of a bronze statue of a swan, where Libby flung her hands in the air and twirled in a circle. Her face was pink with the cold, her smile broad. She led Vidor to a smooth patch of snow and raised her arms over her head. In a single fluid motion she fell backwards onto the ground. Though the windows were nearly soundproof, Gessen could imagine the sound of her laughter. Come on, give it a go.

After a moment’s hesitation, Vidor got down beside her and copied her movements, sweeping his arms in a wide arc and scissoring his legs. Snow angels. Libby was certainly an interesting girl to have come up with something like this. Vidor was such a tough nut to crack. A man who lived almost entirely in his head, seemingly oblivious to the body’s capacity to hold onto pain. The Movement & Meditation classes had done little to help Vidor feel more grounded in his body, or to loosen the iron grip on his thoughts. But a fresh snowfall and a girl with a warm heart had done the trick. Gessen opened the window a crack to hear their laughter. Flat on the snow, moving their limbs in unison, they giggled like children. As their laughter rang out through the crystalline air, Vidor’s face shone with joy.