Lily — Part I
“So, any recent ‘activity’?” His voice was grainy.
“Some,” Lily replied. She hated the question — and more so the answer.
Her psychiatrist stared at her from under his glasses, the dark, puffy rings under his eyes magnified by the angle. Lily’s chest heaved and quickly dropped with a sigh.
“There’s an old man,” she said.
“And what does he want?”
“I don’t know,” she half-lied.
“Are you certain? We both know these things don’t just happen.” Lily knew she had to tell the truth. She had to. Abraham could always tell when she was lying. Daggers of ice pierced her heart as the outline of a small head popped out from behind the desk to his back.
“The little girl.” Her voice was mere air. Why are you here?
“I’m sorry?”
“The little girl,” she choked out the last word, her eyes fixed to the outline. Abraham turned to see where her gaze led.
“So, the old man has something to do with this little girl, then?” He turned back.
“I don’t know.” Lily hesitated. “He’s always so angry. The little girl hides from him.”
“Perhaps they’re related?”
Lily didn’t answer. The void of silence was punctuated only by the sound of scribbling as…
