Torey Hayden
Twilight Children
Contents
This book is based on the author’s experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, some identifying characteristics, dialogue, and details have been changed or reconstructed. Some characters are not based on any one person but are composite characters.
She was a small, fine-boned girl with a pointed pixie chin and unusually distinct cheekbones. Her hair was a soft black, straight and shoulder length, but it had been rather raffishly cut, as if perhaps done by another child. Her eyes, however, defined her face. Enormous, protruding slightly, and fluidly dark, like shadowed water, they overpowered her other features. She wasn’t what I would call a pretty girl, but she was striking in a faintly unreal way, so that when she lifted her hand to push hair back from her face, I half expected to see elfin ears.
“Hello,” I said and pulled out the chair at the table.
She hunched forward, hands down between her knees so that her chin was almost on the tabletop. Her eyes, however, remained on me. She smiled in a manner that was rather self-conscious, yet friendly enough.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Cassandra.”
Ah, a mythical name. It fit the fairy-tale looks.
“How old you are, Cassandra?”
“Nine.”
“My name’s Torey, and you and I are going to be working together each day.” I pulled out a chair adjacent to hers and sat down. “Can you tell me why you’ve come to the unit?”
Her dark eyes locked on mine, and for a moment or two she stared intently, as if she expected to find the answer there. Then she shook her head faintly. “No.”
“What about your mom? What did she tell you about why you were coming here?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Okay,” I said. I bent down and opened my box of materials. Taking out plain paper and a smaller cardboard box, I laid them on the table. “Most of the children I work with come to the unit because they have problems that make them feel bad. Sometimes,