Tinker?" A tiny young woman wearing a long white coat over green hospital scrubs stood beside them. "Erin wants to see you."

"Oh, thank you, Dr. Duncan. Is it all right if we go in?"

"Of course, Mom," Annabelle said, more sharply than she'd wanted.

"Just a moment, please." The doctor, a redheaded sprite of a thing, with wire-rimmed glasses on her upturned pixie nose and the small, delicate features Annabelle had always wished for, sat down beside Annabelle's mother. "I do want to warn you to be prepared for some pretty wild things. Erin has apparently had some sort of shock. Frankly, I'd have to diagnose her as delusional based on my preliminary examination."

Finally! Annabelle sat up, energized. Data. Facts. Evidence. Something concrete to grab on to.

"What makes you say she's delusional, Doctor?" At the doctor's questioning look, Annabelle gave a tight smile and added, "I'm Erin's sister, Annabelle."

"Ms. Tinker, nice to meet you." Dr. Duncan smiled sadly, offering her hand. "I'll let you hear it in Erin's own words. Let me caution you, though. Don't argue with her. Go along with her if you think you can be convincing. Sometimes these cases become worse when they think they're being patronized. We don't want to upset her further by making her think we don't believe her. It could lead her to paranoid fantasies of persecution, which could result in more aggressive behavior."

"Oh," Susan moaned.

"Come on, Mom," Annabelle said, setting her hand under her mother's elbow and helping her to her feet. "Thank you, Dr. Duncan."

Dr. Duncan smiled and nodded. "It's that room there."

Annabelle tried to return the smile and led her mother toward the room.

"I can't, Annabelle."

"Yes, you can. Erin needs us."

She pushed open the door, and then pushed her mother through.

"Annabelle." Erin sat up, arms reaching.

Releasing her mother, Annabelle practically ran to her sister's bedside, wrapping Erin in a hug.

"Oh, honey, what on earth happened?"

"You won't believe me. Nobody believes me."

Annabelle remembered the doctor's warnings. "Try me."

Erin glanced up, then over at her mother. "Mom, can you listen now?"

Erin's tone forced Annabelle to study her more closely. She was calm. Her eyes were clear. There was nothing of a cloudy, crazed look in them. Her hands were steady as she reached forward for her mother to come closer.

Their mother was the one who needed a sedative, but she did come to the side of the bed to sit in the ugly, brown plastic armchair. Annabelle moved its tattered twin beside it, but, instead of sitting, she grasped Erin's outstretched hand in her own.

"All right, sweetheart," their mother said, her voice slow and loud, as though talking to a small, rather backward child. "Tell me."

Eyes rolling upward, Erin sighed. "Mom, I'm nuts, not deaf." She shared a smile with Annabelle before adding, "At least, they think I'm nuts after they heard what I told them."

"What did you tell them?" Annabelle asked.

With a big breath, Erin sat up and gripped Annabelle's hand.