Delilah’s parents exchanged fast, flickering calculations. With three sentences my daughter had kicked their pretty trap off its stand.
“She’s a child,” Delilah’s father tried, careful. “Children attach to whoever is kind.”
“Children know the truth faster than adults,” Rosalinde said. “If the girl says the doctor is good, then she is good.”
I glanced at my mother. Surprise, then a small tilt of respect.
Delilah leaned forward, tone coaxing. “Myra, darling, wouldn’t you like to meet my own doctor? He’s very skilled. He could give you a candy too.”
“No!” Myra’s voice rang like a bell. Curls bounced with the force of her refusal. “I don’t want him. I want Doctor Lean.”
Her fists balled; her eyes flashed. “She made me better. I only want her.”
The chamber froze.
I pulled her close, mu
