Katherine returned home late that night, Damien already asleep in the car. After the zoo they had merely driven, the child sitting in silence, hurt and confused as to what was wrong. He tried to repeat the poem once, the one about gorillas and monkeys and horses and donkeys, but Katherine was mute, her gaze fixed firmly ahead. When darkness came, Damien indicated he was hungry, but his mother refused to respond, and he crawled into the back seat, where he found a blanket, and fell asleep.

Katherine drove swiftly but aimlessly, trying to escape the fear that was overtaking her. It was not the fear of Damien, or of Mrs. Baylock. It was the fear that she was going insane.

At Pereford, Jeremy was waiting, expecting to find her in good spirits; he had asked that dinner be held until she arrived. They sat now at a small table, Thorn's eyes on Katherine as she quietly, and tensely tried to eat.

"Are you all right, Katherine?"

"Yes."

"So silent.".

"Just tired, I guess."

"Full day?"

"Yes."

Her manner was abrupt, as though she resented the intrusion.

"Was it fun?"

"Yes."

"You seem disturbed."

"Do I?"

"What's wrong?"

"What could be wrong?"

"I don't know. You seem upset."

"Just tired. I just need some sleep."

She feigned a smile, but it was not convincing. Thorn was troubled as he studied her.

"Damien all right?" asked Thorn.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Thorn watched her, and she averted her eyes.

"If there were anything wrong' ... you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" he asked. "I mean ... with Damien?"

"With Damien? What could be wrong with Damien, Jeremy? What could be wrong with our son? We are the 'blessed' people, aren't we?"

She caught his eye and seemed to smile, but the expression showed no pleasure.

"I mean, only 'goodness' comes to the House of the Thorns," she said. "Black clouds just stay away."

"There is something wrong, isn't there?" asked Thorn quietly.

Katherine lowered her head into her hands and remained immobile.

"Kathy..." said Thorn gently. "What is it?"

"I think ..." she replied, struggling to control her voice, "... I want to see a doctor." She raised her eyes, and they were filled with pain. "I have ... fears,'" she said. "Fears that a normal person wouldn't have."

"Kathy . . ." Thorn whispered. "What kind of fears?"

"If I told you, you'd have me locked up."

"No ..." he assured her. "No ... I love you."

"Then help me," she pleaded. "Find me a doctor."

A tear had slid from her eye, and Thorn reached for her hands.

"Of course," he said. "Of course."

And she wept, the events of the day remaining locked, forever, inside her.