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take her to the regular medical staff here.”
    “I can’t trust them,” Waverly said, remembering the doctor she’d taken hostage during her failed attempt to rescue the parents, the same one who had drugged all the girls and taken their ova. She didn’t want to see him again.
    “All right,” the old man said, blinking slowly in a kind of smile. “I would be glad to look at your mother.”
    Waverly stood up from her chair, and he raised his eyebrows.
    “You mean now?”
    “Please,” Waverly said, aware she was begging, but she didn’t care.
    The man pressed a small red button on his desk, and soon the door opened and Jared appeared pushing a wheelchair. With practiced moves, he helped the old man into his chair, then placed a crocheted afghan over his knees. The doctor waved a bony finger toward the darkened corner and barked, “My bag.”
    Wordlessly, Jared picked up a black doctor’s bag from the floor and hung it on the old man’s chair.
    “You lead the way, Waverly,” Jared said, and Waverly walked out the door with them close behind.
    When they got to Waverly’s lone apartment in the abandoned corridor, Regina was sitting curled on the couch in stocking feet, sipping at a cup of tea. “Waverly!” she said. “You brought company!”
    “Hello, Mrs. Marshall,” the doctor said jovially from the doorway. Jared pushed his chair into the room, gave Waverly a polite nod, then left to go stand in the hallway next to the guard, who barely acknowledged him. “I’m a doctor and I’ve come to have a look at you.”
    Regina looked at Waverly, confused. “I feel fine.”
    “Just routine,” the doctor said and worked his chair closer until he sat directly across from her, their knees almost touching. “Follow my finger with your eyes, dear.”
    Regina obediently set aside her tea to give him her full attention.
    The doctor had Regina repeat several sentences after him, checked all her reflexes, and had her remember long lists of objects. He ran her through simple arithmetic and asked her all about her history. Waverly sat in the armchair, watching. Her mother seemed to pass every test with flying colors, but that only frustrated Waverly. If the doctor couldn’t see what was wrong, how could he fix it?
    When finally the doctor turned to look wonderingly at Waverly, she rushed to explain. “It’s her emotions. She’s not bothered by anything.”
    “Like what?” the doctor said, visibly confused.
    Waverly stepped forward and took hold of her mother’s hands. “Mom. Remember how I told you the Empyrean has been destroyed?”
    “Oh,” Regina said, assuming a worried expression. “Oh yes. That’s terrible.”
    “Aren’t you upset about it?” Waverly asked.
    “Of course, dear!” Regina said, no more touched than if they’d been talking about a ruined dress. “It’s terrible.”
    Waverly looked at the doctor, who wrinkled his brow, perplexed.
    “Regina,” the old man said with authority, “I was very sorry to learn that so many of your friends were killed.”
    “Oh, I know!” Regina said, shaking her head as she took up her mug of tea again. “It’s been very difficult.” She took a sip, smiling anxiously at her daughter, hoping to please.
    The old man asked another dozen questions, each more provocative than the last, probing for some emotional response. At last he shouted, “Some mother you are! Not caring that your daughter’s home is destroyed! You must not love her. Someone ought to take her away from you.”
    “Oh no,” Regina said, finally becoming agitated. “Please don’t take Waverly away again!” She broke into tears and hid her face in her hands. “Please. I care! I know I do! I just feel so strange!”
    Waverly sat down next to her mother on the sofa, a protective arm over her shoulders, and glared at the doctor.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “But at least now we know she’s still in there somewhere.”
    “What’s wrong with her?” Waverly cried. “What did