Page 39 of Poison Wood

The irony is it turned out Governor Chamberlain was the reason the school closed. After Heather went missing, she yanked Summer out first and encouraged every parent to do the same, which they happily did. The school was already on shaky ground by that point. Heather was the final nail in the coffin.

I scan the carnage of papers on the bed and stop on the psych evals again.

I slide my phone open and tap the second name on my favorites list. A list of only four names, including my father, Carl, and Dom. She is the only woman on the list, Dr. Willa Watters.

“Rita,” she answers. “What’s wrong?”

I smile. “Shockingly, nothing is wrong.” Not entirely true. “I just have a few questions for you.”

“You have questions?” she says and laughs.

“All kinds of shocking things today,” I say with sarcasm. “You got a second?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I want to ask you about certain diagnoses. Ones given to teenage girls at a therapeutic boarding school.”

“Okay. Sounds interesting. Shoot.”

“There are three in particular. Histrionic, oppositional defiant disorder, and borderline personality disorder.”

She whistles into the phone. “Quite a list.”

“Think any of them describe me?” She doesn’t answer. “Hello?”

“What’s this about?”

“A school I went to.”

“You went to a school for troubled teens?”

“Yes.”

She sighs. “Well, we can add that to your layered trauma.”

“We are not talking about my layered trauma or vicarious trauma or whatever you’ve called it. This is about something else.”

“You’re the one who made it about yourself.”

Now it’s my turn not to answer, and speaking of not answering, she hasn’t answered my question.

“You still there?” she says.

“Yeah. Listen, I just need a few answers on what those terms mean and more importantly what type of woman would be the result of them.” I press into my temple. “If I’m being short, it’s because I’ve had a headache for three days.”

“That’s pressure that needs to be released,” she says. “Have you heard of the bookThe Body Keeps the Score?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s time to read it. Your body has been keeping score for a long time, and I have news for you. You’re losing.”

“Great. I hate losing.”

She laughs. “I’m serious, Rita. You’ve got to own your trauma.”

“I don’t have trauma.”

Willa laughs so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear.