I sucked the remaining portion of the cigarette into my lungs and then dropped the smoldering b.u.t.t into a sand-filled can nearby. Shaking my head as I huffed out the smoke, I muttered to no one but myself, "Oh well, so much for thinking about something else."

I pulled the pack from my pocket and gave it a glance. It had been around three-quarters full when I snagged it from the nightstand. Now it was down to four left. I fished one out, stuck it between my lips and tucked the pack away as I sent my other hand in search of the lighter.

"That does not look to me like your usual brand, Rowan." Helen's voice floated out from across the balcony, and I looked up to see her coming toward me, the gla.s.s door already levering shut on its hydraulic piston.

"Where's Felicity?" I asked as I pulled the cigarette from my mouth.

"She is in my office, resting. Don't worry."

"But, should she really be alone?"

"Don't worry, Rowan. As I said, she is resting."

"What did you do? Dope her up?"

"We usually frown on that terminology, but yes. I gave her a tranquilizer."

"I guess it pays to have both the sheepskins, huh?"

"I prefer to work patients through with a.n.a.lysis and therapy, but yes, being able to prescribe medication comes in handy, and is sometimes necessary."

"Okay," I finally sighed in resignation then looked at the smoke I was holding in my hand. I waved it absently and added, "It's just stress."

She shook her head, pulling a cigarette case from her own coat pocket. "You need not make excuses to me. I am not about to preach to you on the evils of smoking, you should know that."

I grunted acknowledgement and offered her my lighter, flicking it and cupping my hand around the flame. She set her smoke alight then gave me a nod as she sidled over to the railing a few steps away.

"So," I began after lighting my own. "How is she?"

"Disturbed," she replied succinctly.

"No offense, but I think I already had that nailed down," I replied. "The question is, how disturbed?"

"Enough to warrant concern, but not enough for you to get yourself overly worked up."

"You're being ambiguous, Helen."

"Yes, I know I am. Unfortunately, Rowan, I know of no other way to put it. Your wife is a very strong individual, however, for a period of time early this morning she truly believed that she had murdered you. The simple thought that she could be capable of such an act has affected her very deeply."

"She isn't," I objected. "Her body was being used by a spirit. h.e.l.l, she wasn't even in it."

"She is aware of that, Rowan," Helen explained. "However, our psyches are inextricably connected with our bodies. We are what we see and perceive ourselves to be. It is one of the things that sets us apart from other animals-the ability to look in a mirror and recognize ourselves. To be self-aware. In Felicity's mind, whether she was in control or not, it was her body that was inflicting the harm, and therefore it is she who is ultimately responsible."

"That's not how it works."

"For you, perhaps, but you must understand that even though you have been through your own tribulations, you have not directly experienced that which she faced. You might well think differently if you were to switch places with her."

I shook my head. "I don't know about that."

"Believe me, this is not something we need debate at this time. It is nothing more than speculation at best. The tables cannot be turned. The events simply are what they are. And, because of them, at this moment in time your wife is quite a bit more fragile than you are accustomed to seeing her."

"Okay, no debate. But, is she going to be okay?"

"Yes, eventually."

"Eventually?"

"The amount of healing she requires doesn't occur overnight, Rowan," she offered, then shifted slightly and c.o.c.ked her head to the side in a thoughtful pose. After a moment she continued, "Now, I am certainly no expert on this possession phenomenon..."

"It really happened, Helen," I interrupted.

"I am not doubting that. Please, let me finish. As I said, I am no expert on the subject, however, I suspect from what you have told me about it that such an event, especially when it comes in such an unexpected manner, is truly at the root of the issue. When combined with the physical demands and the apparent literal separation of the Id from the individual, I can only surmise that the primary psychological fallout begins there. Her actions while possessed are rising to the surface as horrors for her, however, the trigger is the feeling of disa.s.sociation."

"Acting as a horse for a Lwa takes some getting used to, as I understand it," I said with a nod.

"I think that would be putting it mildly, Rowan."

"Yeah, well I suppose I'm trying not to think about it too hard right now."

"I can understand that, however, on top of the mild hysteria over knowing she severely harmed you, Felicity is exhibiting the cla.s.sic symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Many of the emotions she described over the past hour when recounting this most recent event readily a.s.sociate to the same feelings she experienced after the first possession."

"Okay," I shrugged. "That only stands to reason, right?"

"Yes, Rowan, however what I am trying to say is that in her case the effects are obviously c.u.mulative, and I am not at all surprised. One either faces a severe stressor that triggers the PTSD, or the anxiety and negative experiences build up until the individual can no longer tolerate them. Felicity falls into that second category. Simply look at everything the woman has been through in the past few weeks. The fact is, I am truly amazed that she held up as well as she has."

I waited a moment then gave her a nod. "Yeah, well like you said. She's got one h.e.l.l of a strong will."

"Fortunately, yes," she agreed. "For the both of you."

"Another issue that seems to be weighing on her heavily is something with regard to a sister. Are you able to shed any light on that?"

"Just that she doesn't have one that I know of."

"Yes, she said that she did not, but then she would always come back to an issue about a sister. She was never very clear on the point."

My brain kicked in and cut through the fog of the most recent events, bringing our conversation with Ben back around to the forefront.

"You know, I guess it might have something to do with the DNA tests," I said. "Your brother mentioned that when they got the samples that actually cleared her of the crime, the tests came out so close that the lab believes the actual killer to be a sibling."

"Interesting."

I nodded. "That's one word for it."

"Well, something about that has definitely struck a chord for her."

"Wish I could help you on that, but when Ben mentioned it she was adamant about not having a sister."

"I will take your word for it, however, I think a talk with her parents may be in order."

"I can give you their number, but as you know, I'm not high on their list, so you'll be on your own."

"I am sure I can appeal to them without bringing you into it."

A short lull fell between us as we both took a moment to digest the conversation.

"Okay, so what do I do now?" I asked, finally breaking the silence. "Do I bring her in to see you every day? Twice a day? Set up housekeeping for you in our guest room? Take her on a vacation in the Bahamas? What? Just tell me and it's done."

"That is part of what I came out here to speak with you about, Rowan," she replied, extracting a fresh cigarette and lighting it from the dying ember of her previous smoke.

"Okay, shoot."

She exhaled a thoughtful sigh as she stared out at the spa.r.s.e wisps of clouds on the horizon. Her breath steamed on the crisp air, and the silence that fell between us was almost painful. I lit a fresh cigarette myself-using the task to fill the glaring void she was leaving. I could tell that for once, Helen wasn't simply taking time choosing her words; she seemed to be at a total loss for them.

Finally, I could wait no longer. "Helen?" I queried. "What is it?"

She gave in to my question and turned toward me. I took an immediate dislike to the expression she was wearing.

"I am afraid there is simply no other way to say this to you, Rowan," she finally said. "Felicity has elected to have herself voluntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation."

"She what?" I stammered. "And you didn't try to talk her out of it?"

"No, Rowan," she replied with a shake of her head. "Actually, I am the one who suggested it."

CHAPTER 29:.

"I'm still not sure how I feel about this, honey," I said as I switched off the truck's engine then sat back in my seat.

I left the keys dangling from the ignition. It was a conscious move, driven by a subconscious hope that my wife would change her mind, and I would be able to simply restart the vehicle and head for home.

Of course, I already knew I wasn't going to get my wish, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying. I tilted my head up and absently inspected the headliner because I knew looking at Felicity was just going to make my heart ache even more than it already did.

"I know," she replied, voice flat and soft. "But, it's for the best."

"I hope you're right," I answered, giving up and turning my face toward her. She didn't meet my gaze, instead leaving her eyes directed out the pa.s.senger side window. I exhaled heavily and added, "You know, you were just locked up in one inst.i.tution, and now here you are going into another. I don't see how that's for the best."

"This is different," she replied. "I'm doing it voluntarily."

"Yeah, and that's what makes it even more disconcerting. You're walking out of one cell and right into another, all of your own accord."

"This is a hospital, Rowan, not a prison."

"Yeah, I know it is. But it's the kind with padded walls, locked doors, and grim-faced nurses named after hand tools."

My attempt at bringing levity to the situation fell flat, even for me.

After a moment she offered, "My insurance will cover part of..."

"G.o.ds, Felicity!" I cut her off, shaking my head as my voice rose slightly. "That isn't my point! It's not the money, you know that. I'll spend whatever it takes."

She remained silent.

I closed my eyes and reached up to rub my forehead as I let out an embarra.s.sed sigh. I hadn't exactly lashed out at her, but I knew my tone had been far less than patient.

"I'm sorry," I almost whispered.

"It's okay," she replied. "I know you're stressed out too."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Maybe I need to check in with you."

I looked at the clock on the dash, and it read a little past one in the afternoon.

"You know," I said. "Technically, you're supposed to be at your parent's house in less than an hour for Thanksgiving dinner. Your brother is in town for it and everything."

"Aye, we are supposed to be there. Not just me."

"Well, I figured after everything that's happened between your father and me..." I left the rest of the sentence unspoken.

She shook her head gently. "No. I spoke to my mother about that. You were expected too."

"Okay," I replied with a shrug. "Then what are we doing here now? Why don't we go get cleaned up and have dinner? Maybe you'll feel better after..."

"No, Rowan."

"You're going to miss Thanksgiving dinner? With the O'Brien clan all together under one roof for a change?"

"It's not all of them, you know that."

"Well, immediate family...and Austin is there. That's kind of a big deal unless I misunderstood."

"I know that, and yes it is. But, I've no choice in the matter."

"So, you're telling me you can't at least put this off until tomorrow?"

"No, I can't."

"Well, I don't get it."

"I don't expect you to."

"Honestly, I still don't understand why you just can't see Helen on a daily basis for a while."