Hilary’s vacant facial expression hardly changed as she slowly paced, back and forth, back and forth, occasionally turning to face the watchers and say, “Miaow.” Every so often, she’d turn and hiss, then stop to lick her hand. Back and forth, back and forth, lick, lick. She hissed one more time, then curled up on the bed, asleep.
“I thought you had a diagnosis?”
“What is it?”
“In a word, she’s catatonic.”