“She’s still very unstable.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Dr. Wilton responds.
A small waiflike woman, eyes downcast, timidly shuffles into the room.
“Please sit, Ana. You remember me, don’t you?”
Silent, Ana timidly perches on the edge of her chair.
“Are you feeling safe and calm today?”
“I’m afraid; I want to leave.” Anna begins to tremble.
“Take deep breaths, Ana, and hold my hand.”
“Don’t touch me! I must go!“
“Ana. Don’t …!”
But it was too late. Ana’s outline began to fade. Her features fragmented and then … she disappeared.