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The girl surrendered to a new series of spasmic tremors She retched soundlessly and put her hands to her throat once more The felt-tipped pen made a black mark on the underside of her chin

Apparently, the htened her That was territory that would have to be explored, though not right now

Carol talked her down, calmed her, and asked a new question "How old are you, Millie?"

Tomorrow’s my birthday

"Is it really? How old will you be?"

I won’t make it

"What won’t you make?"

Sixteen

"Are you fifteen now?"

Yes

"And you think you won’t live to be sixteen? Is that it?"

Won’t live

"Why not?"

The sheen of sweat had nearly evaporated fro

her hairline

"Why won’t you live to see your birthday?" Carol persisted

As before, the girl used the felt-tipped pen to slash angrily at the notebook

"Stop that," Carol said firmly "Relax and be cale out of the book and tossed it aside, then said, "Why won’t you live to see your sixteenth birthday, Millie?"

Head

So we’re back to this, Carol thought She said,

"What about your head? What’s wrong with it?"

Cut off

Carol stared at those tords for a irl’s face

Millie-Jane was struggling to reled nervously, and there was horror in them Her lips were utterly colorless, tremulous Beneath the rivulets of sweat that coursed down her forehead, her skin axy and mealy white

She continued to scribble frantically in the note-

book, but all she wrote was the saain: Cut cut off, cut off cut off She was bearing down on the page with such great pressure that the head of the felt-tipped pen was squashed into shapeless ht, this is like a live report from the bottoirl screa in pain as fire consumed her, the other a victiirls have to do with Jane Doe? She couldn’t be both of them Perhaps she wasn’t either of the here? Carol wondered

She put her own hand over the girl’s writing hand and stilled the squeaking pen Speaking gently, rhythht, that she was perfectly safe, and that she ed back in her chair

"All right," Carol said "I think that’s enough for today, honey"

Eirl forward in ti ell, but then, without warning, the girl erupted fro the pen across the rooave way to a look of pure rage

Carol rose froirl’s chair and stepped in front of her "Honey, what’s wrong?"

The girl’s eyes ild She began to shout with such force that she sprayed Carol with spittle "Shit! The bitch did it! The rotten, goddamn bitch!"

The voice wasn’t Jane’s

It wasn’t Laura’s either

It was a new voice, a third one, with its own special character, and Carol had a hunch it didn’t belong to Millicent Parker, the mute She suspected that an entirely new identity had surfaced

The girl stood very stiff and straight, her hands fisted at her sides, staring off into infinity Her face was distorted by anger "The stinking bitch did it! She did it to irl continued to shout at the top of her voice, and half of the words she blurted out were obscene Carol tried to soothe her, but this tiirl continued to wail and curse At last, however, at Carol’s urging, she got control of herself She stopped shouting, but there was still anger in her face

Holding the girl by the shoulders, face to face with her, Carol said, "What’s your name?’

"Linda"

"What’s your last name?"

"Bekterht She had the girl spell the name

Then: "Where do you live, Linda?"

"Second Street"

"In Harrisburg?"

"Yes"

Carol asked for the exact address, and the girl responded ft was only a few blocks from the Front Street address that Millicent Parker had provided

"What’s your father’s name, Linda?"

"Herbert Bektermann"

"What’s your mother’s name?"

That question had the same effect on Linda as it had had on Millie She rapidly becaain "The bitch! Oh, God, what she did to me The slimy, rotten bitch! I hate her I hate her!"

Chilled by the coirl’s tortured voice, Carol quickly quieted her

Then: "How old are you, Linda?"

"To to Millicent now?"

"Who’s Millicent?"

"Is this still Linda I’ to?’