Chapter One

"She's obviously not cooperating again," Dr. Whitney grumbled and scribbled fiercely in his notebook, clearly somewhere between total exasperation and frustration. "Don't let her have her toys again, until she decides to work. I've had enough of her nonsense."

The nurse hesitated. "Doctor, that isn't a good idea with Dahlia. She can be very ..." She paused, clearly searching for the right word. "Difficult."

That caught his attention. He looked up from his papers, the impatience on his face fading to interest. "You're afraid of her, Milly. She's four years old and you're afraid of her. Why?" There was more than scientific interest in his tone. There was eagerness.

The nurse continued to watch the child through the glass window. The little girl had shiny black hair, thick and long and falling down her back in an unkept, untidy mass. She sat on the floor rocking back and forth, clutching a small blanket to her and moaning softly. Pitifully. Continually. Her eyes were enormous, as black as midnight and as penetrating as steel. Milly Duboune winced visibly and looked away when the child turned those black, too old eyes in her direction.

"She can't see us through the glass," Dr. Whitney pointed out.

"She knows we're here." The nurse dropped her voice to a whisper. "She's dangerous, Doctor. No one wants to work with her. She won't let us brush her hair or tell her to go to bed and we can't punish her."

Dr. Whitney lifted an eyebrow, sheer arrogance crossing his face. "You're all that afraid of this child? Why wasn't I informed?"

Milly hesitated. Fear was clearly etched on her face. "We knew you'd demand more fro

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