“How are you feeling?” Dr. Smith asks. He looks tired and his eyes flick toward the shadows with every other word.
“Fine,” she replies. Her voice is hoarse. “Can I go back to my room now?” The doctor and the orderly are still blocking the doorway. She is still trapped.
“At least one of your personalities wants to leave. A very exciting development.”
“There is only one other.”
Dr. Smith wags a finger. “Dissociative identity disorder requires at least three separate personalities. Doctors know best, Miranda. Trust me.”
She doesn’t answer. They lead her upstairs, back toward light and sound.
