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said, "No mail or calls yesterday and nothing yet

today. Get some rest," she dictated and walked out,

her footsteps echoing behind her. The great house

seemed to swallow every sound until it was terribly

silent.

I closed my eyes and then opened them and

looked up at the ceiling. I had dreamed of being

upstairs, returning to Grandmother Hudson's room. I

thought I'd feel safe and happy there again. This was

nothing like any sort of homecoming. I couldn't even

have the illusion of getting back to some normality.

Everything here and everything done for me was

constantly designed to remind me about who I was

and what I had become: an inmate, shifted from one

prison to another.

Of course. I was forever incarcerated in the

worst prison of all now. I thought, no matter where I

was at the time.

My own body.

In moments-- despite my determination to

prove Mrs. Bogart wrong-- I fell asleep exhausted. .

When I woke., I was surprised to discover I had

slept for over two hours. Almost as soon as my

eyelids fluttered open and I glanced at the clock. Mrs.

Bogart was in the room with a tray on which she had a

bowl of tomato soup and a toasted cheese sandwich. I

had to believe she was looking in on me continually

and knew I was stirring. How could I help but be

impressed with such attentiveness, despite her poor bedside manners? I was equally amazed by what she had brought me to eat. She saw that in my face

immediately.