Chapter 41
“It’s a girl!” The ultrasound technician turns to Topher and me, her young face beaming.
I feel Topher standing stunned next to me, and I realize that we have never even talked about our preference if we had one.
Then he’s holding both of my hands, the affection feeling genuine and spontaneous for the first time in a while.
“A girl,” he says softly. “I’m so happy.”
I smile. A girl. Just like I knew she would be.
* * *
“The baby is doing just fine.” Dr. Kahn undoes the measuring tape around my belly and rolls her chair back over to the computer to make a few notes. It’s funny how you can always tell when a “but” is coming.
“But,” says Dr. Kahn, “I’m worried about you.”
I blink, instantly glad Topher had to dash off to his shift after the ultrasound. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I’ve been doing this a long time, Elinor. I know the signs to look out for. You look exhausted. You seem anxious. You are distracted.” She raises her eyes at me at this.
I wonder if Topher has talked to Dr. Kahn behind my back.
“Did my husband say something to you?” Defensiveness has always been my fallback.
“No.” She says it calmly, without elaboration.
I feel guilty. Like always. I am distracted. She’s right. But how could I not be? I stare out the window. It’s another gray day. The clouds are low and heavy. They look like how I feel.
“Elinor?”
I drag my eyes back to the small square office, with its ghastly fluorescent lighting, back to the OB who is staring at me, arms folded across her chest.
“Yes?”
“I’m putting in a referral to psychiatry. I can’t make you see them, but I think it might help. Given your history, you might have perinatal depression. You should speak with someone.”
I don’t have perinatal depression. I have a ghost. I wish I could say these things to her.
“Okay, thank you. I’ll consider it.”
She’s staring at me with such concern that I stand up, to show her I’m ready to leave.
I’m the one in control here, not her. But I know the move makes me look like a teenager.
A few minutes later, I walk through the hospital doors and out into the chilly October day.
I avoid eye contact with others in the parking lot and pretend there aren’t tears running down my face.
* * *
When I get home, I march straight into the library.
I’m going to prove this. I’m going to prove this for myself, for my baby, for the woman in my dreams. And I’m going to prove this to Topher.
He doesn’t believe me. For the first time in our marriage, he is not on my side.
He doesn’t see what I see. The knowledge breaks something inside of me.
I sit at Ezra’s massive desk and power up my laptop.
As I wait for it to load, I look around the room impatiently.
It’s then that I notice that something is slightly off.
My laptop was open when I sat down. I always close it when I’m done.
I stand slowly and look around the room.
Nothing looks out of place. I walk slowly through the first floor of the house.
Peering carefully into each room. Hugo follows me dutifully.
He’s not barking, so I know no one could be here.
But still, it feels like someone is here. Or was just here.
I sigh and head back into the library. When I walk into the room, I step on something sharp.
My first instinct is that another damn nail is rising up, but I hear a tiny clink when I move my foot away.
The object I stepped on isn’t attached to the floor.
I see a shiny piece of metal and I bend down to pick it up.
It’s a paper clip. But it doesn’t look how it should.
It’s been bent, so one end sticks up and that must be what I stepped on.
I carefully place it on the desk, wondering what it reminds me of, wondering if it’s another piece of this puzzle.
Another mystery. But that’s okay. Because I’m going to start getting my answers.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk with a proper witch historian, someone who is not Topher, or Madeline, or Dr. Kahn. Tomorrow, I go to Salem.