“That can wait until morning,” Brad said.
“If your child were missing, would you want to wait until morning to find out?” Ennis turned to leave the room.
“Wait!” My eyebrows shot up. “Maybe they know where she is. Maybe she went home.”
“She’s not,” Brad said. “I already called them earlier this evening and posed as a friend from school. They haven’t heard from her. If she’d flown home, she’d have called them with the information.”
No. I wouldn’t give up hope. “Maybe not. Maybe she wanted to surprise them.”
“There’s one way to find out,” Ennis said. “I’m calling them now.”
“Use my office,” Brad said. “You want me to come along?”
“No, I’ll do it alone. I just wish I knew what the hell to say.”
“Wait, Ennis,” I said. “Don’t call them.”
“I have to, Daphne.”
“But she’s… She’s not…”
“She’s missing, love. They’re her parents. They have a right to know.”
“No, Brad. Please.”
“He’s right, baby. He has to make this phone call.”
“No. No. No.” My voice sounded oddly robotic, as if it were coming from somewhere other than my body.
“I’m sorry.” Brad’s voice.
At least I thought it was Brad’s voice.
Then I didn’t think at all.
“Daphne! Daphne!”
Voices buzzed around me, but I could only make out one word.
Daphne.
Daphne.
Daphne.
My world became a bubble. Something needed me. Something was forcing me back to this life that was too difficult to bear.
White walls. Always white, because color might prove too distracting to some.
The deli owner’s daughter. She was lucid but quiet. Everyone thought she was completely bonkers, but she wasn’t. She was actually really logical, always keeping order. She’d talked to me once. She’d said, “You’re really pretty. I’d like us to be friends.” But I’d waved her away. I didn’t want to be the girl who befriended the crazy person.
The crazy person.
Weren’t we all crazy?
After all, we were all here.
The candy striper. She followed the orderlies around, insisting she was helping them. She painted stripes on her gray sweats during art class once. She’d been banned from art class after that.
The scary guy. He was only sixteen—we were all minors at this facility—but his arms were covered in tattoos. He looked dangerous, and I stayed far away from him. He stared at me constantly, though, his stark blue eyes seeming to melt the clothes off my back. But he never spoke to me.
The paperboy. Had he been a paperboy on the outside? No one knew, but he spent all his time folding newspapers and then delivering them to each door. The orderlies collected them at the end of the day and gave them back to him the next day, when he began again.
Who were these people?
How had I forgotten them?
I’d spent a year of my life with them, and somehow, they’d all vanished from my mind.
Now they seemed so real. I could see them like a motion picture playing inside my head. They were more real than the buzzing and squeaking around me.
I hated being here.
Hated being around these people.
Though I didn’t hate them.
I just hated being colorless.
That was how we all were here. Colorless. All the same. Treated the same by the orderlies and nurses. Even by the doctors.
Same. All the same.
Black and white.
No color.
I didn’t know their names. They were the paperboy, the deli owner’s daughter, the rebel. No names, only labels.
How did they label me?
I never knew.
So clearly they appeared inside my head. So much clearer than the blurred images rushing around me.
It was easier to stay here.
These people were colorless. Not distracting.
They didn’t bother me, and I didn’t bother them.
Daphne.
Daphne.
Daphne.
The sound seemed to come from the TV. That big color TV in the rec room where we had social time. Except none of us talked to each other. Only the TV, and occasionally the candy striper asking someone if they needed a bedpan or the deli owner’s daughter saying, “What else can I get for you today?”
Daphne.
Daphne.
Daphne.
“Leave me alone!” I yelled at the candy striper.
Daphne.
Daphne.
Daphne.
Then a cry.
A baby’s cry.
Who would bring a baby here?
But it wasn’t any baby.
The images came into focus.
“Daphne, baby. Please.”
The voice. I knew the voice.
“Jonah needs you.”
I snapped into reality.
My baby. He was crying. Jonah was hungry.
I grabbed him out of Brad’s arms and snuggled him. Within a few minutes, without me opening my blouse, he settled back down to sleep.
Because of me.
I was my child’s comfort.
Me.
Daphne.
I held my precious child, kissed his tiny forehead.
And I remembered.
I remembered the deli owner’s daughter.
I remembered the candy striper.
I remembered the scary guy.
I remembered the paperboy.
I remembered.
They hadn’t been my friends, but I’d spent a year of my life with them. Why was I remembering now, when an actual friend was missing?
Dr. Payne said that memories could resurface, and if they did, there’d be a reason.
Why now?
I kissed Joe’s head once more and then inhaled his sweet baby scent.
It was time.
Time to face my past.