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"We have over two thousand volumes and we get dozens and dozens of magazines," he explained.

"Very nice," I said.

We continued until we came to what looked like a small gymnasium.

"We don't neglect the patients physical well being. This is our exercise room. Every morning, we conduct calisthenics. Some of our patients are even able to swim in our pool, which is located in the rear of the building. Here," he said, taking a few steps and pointing down the corridor to the right, "are our treatment rooms. We have a dentist on a regular basis, as well as general medicine doctors on call. Why, we even have a beauty parlor here," he said, smiling.

"This way," he indicated, pointing down the opposite corridor.

I wondered about Daphne. It surprised me that she would sit back in his office and remain so patient. She had made it perfectly clear to me how much she hated coming here. I was sure she wanted to get in and get out as fast as she could. Now troubled as well as confused, I followed Dr. Cheryl. I didn't want to appear impolite or unappreciative, but I was eager to see my uncle.

We turned a corner and approached what looked like an entirely new administrative area. A nurse sat behind a desk. Two attendants, both big men in their late twenties at least, stood talking to her. They looked up as we approached.

"Morning, Mrs. McDonald," Dr. Cheryl said. The nurse at the desk looked up. She had a softer face than Mrs. Warren, but looked to be the same age with bluish gray hair cut at the nape of her neck.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Boys," he said to the attendants. "Everything going all right this morning?" They nodded, their eyes fixed on me.

"Very well, Mrs. McDonald. As you know, Madame Dumas has brought her daughter here. This is Ruby," he said, turning to me.

I stared at him a moment. What did he mean, brought her daughter here? Why didn't he finish that and say, brought her daughter to see her uncle Jean?

"Ruby, Mrs. McDonald runs things down here and sees to everyone's needs. She's the finest head nurse on any psychiatric floor in the country. We're mighty proud to have her on our staff."

"I don't understand," I said. "Where's my uncle?"

"Oh, he's on another floor," Dr. Cheryl said, flashing that tight, small smile. "This floor is more or less for our temporaries. We don't expect you to remain here long."

"What?" I stepped back. "Remain here? What do you mean, remain here?"

Mrs. McDonald and Dr. Cheryl exchanged quick looks. "I thought your mother had explained all of this to you, Ruby," he said.

"Explained? Explained what?"

"You're here for an evaluation, an observation. You didn't agree to it?"

"Are you crazy?" I cried. That brought a smile to the attendants, but Dr. Cheryl straightened up quickly.

"Oh, dear," he said. "I thought this was going to be one of our easier ones."

"I want to go back to my mother," I insisted. I looked back down the corridor, so confused and upset now, I wasn't sure which direction to take.

"Just relax," Dr. Cheryl said, stepping forward.

"Relax? You thought I was coming here to be a patient and you want me to relax?"

"You're not a patient as such," he said, closing and opening his eyes. "You're being evaluated."

"For what?"

"Why don't we just settle you in your room first and then we'll have a talk. If there is nothing to do, why you'll go right home," he said with that small smile again.

"There is nothing to do." I backed away. "I want to go to my mother. Right now. I came here to see my uncle. That's why I came."

Dr. Cheryl looked at Mrs. McDonald and she rose.

"You'll only make things harder for yourself if you become uncooperative, Ruby," she said, coming around her desk. The two attendants moved to follow. I continued to back away, shaking my head.