Page 21 of After Anna

Exactly!Maggie had laughed, too. But I don’t know where to put her. We only have your office and the train room.

I’m on it, don’t worry. You sound so happy, honey. Bring her home. We’ll make it work.

I just know it will be great, honey!

We’re a family of four.Presto!

Okay, I gotta go. See you tomorrow!

Love you!Noah had said, but Maggie had already hung up.

Chapter Twelve

Maggie, Before

Night had fallen, and Maggie and Anna walked to Parker Hall on the elegant Congreve campus. Every building was of colonial vintage, perfectly restored, and Anna pointed out a dining hall that looked like Hogwarts and the First Meeting House, a white-clapboard chapel with a pristine spire. The trees and shrubs were perfectly maintained, and the footpaths were lit by authentic gas lights. Schoolgirls passed them in noisy groups, carrying totebags, covered coffee cups, and phones.

Anna waved to one group, and they waved back. A trio of long-haired girls in navy-blue blazers hurried past, flashing automatic smiles, but Anna didn’t wave to them, nor did they acknowledge her.

“Who were they?” Maggie said, when they’d passed.

“Mean girls on parade.”

“What’s with the blazer?”

“The Senior Blazer. They never take it off. Wegetit, ladies.”

Maggie smiled, and they reached Parker Hall, an imposing colonial mansion with a brick façade, tall white columns, and windows with bubbled-glass panes and thick muntins.

“Home sweet home,” Anna said, with a smile that Maggie could tell was forced. “I’d take you inside, but they don’t know you, okay?”

“Absolutely, and I don’t want to keep Ellen waiting.”

“Okay. Her office is in the Graham Center, at the end of the path. You’ll see the sign. Just go that way.” Anna pointed down to the left, down a path through the campus.

“I got it.”

“Want me to walk you?”

“No, I’m fine. You go inside and pack.”

“The walkway ends in the Graham Center, which is the counseling services. Everybody calls it Graham Crackup.”

“Not exactly enlightened. I always thought the crazy people were the ones who never went to therapy.”

“Agree!” Anna laughed. “Bye now.”

“See you later.” Maggie waved as Anna turned away and headed up the brick path to the dorm.

Fifteen minutes later, Maggie was sitting in the Graham Center’s beautifully appointed reception area, which was empty. There was a cushy navy-blue rug on the floor, patterned club chairs around a cherrywood coffee table, and walls covered with black-and-white photographs of Congreve dating as far back as 1810.

“Maggie Ippoliti?” said a voice behind her, and Maggie turned to see a trim woman who was maybe sixty-five or so, with plastic rimless glasses perched on a fine nose, sterling silver hair cut fashionably to her chin, and a gray-wool pantsuit, worn with graduated pearls and black flats.

“Yes, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“You’re welcome.” Ellen smiled warmly, then gestured at the chair and sat down, crossing her legs. “Please sit down. We can chat here, since we’re alone.”

“Great.” Maggie sat back down. “First things first. Anna told me that her father told her that I abused her, and that’s not true. Nothing like that is true. In fact, I lost physical custody when she was a baby because I had postpartum psychosis. Did you get the papers I emailed you? They explain why I lost physical custody.”