"Sir," said Jerome, as the family sat down for dinner, "would you like me to send a plate of food up to your daughter?"

William let out a sigh from his seat at the head of the table. "I would like Sophia to come down and eat dinner with us like a civilized human being..." his eyes fell on Augusta seated beside him, however, who had a sympathetic look on her face. "But I suppose if she still is not up to joining us, you may bring her some food."

"Very good, sir," the butler nodded, "I will ask Jane to prepare her a plate."

Jane, the cook and Jerome's wife, had made baked potatoes stuffed with clams for the evening meal. It smelled delicious.

"I must ask, Mr. Dilly," Dr. Gramheist remarked, reaching for the melted butter on the table before him as if he had no manners nor concern that he was but an invited guest in the house, "do you often give in to your daughter?"

"What do mean, doctor?"

"I mean, if she does not want to do something, do you give in and let her have things her way? Like now, you would like her at dinner but if she will not come you just let it pass?"

William paused a moment. "I suppose I do," he admitted, "but up until recently she has always been a good child, there was no reason not to let her have her way in many matters."

"Hmm, I see," the doctor replied, as if lost in thought as he dumped a sea of butter on his potatoes.

Albert quietly sat besides the man. He was not sure what he felt about his presence in the house- on one hand, he recognized his professional help could be what Sophia needed, considering her levels of stress and sorrow as of late. But at the same time, he had a gnawing feeling inside him that, as absurd as it seemed, Sophia was not mistaken about anything she had seen. He couldn't place it, other than attribute it to his fondness for his cousin, yet it seemed like it was much more than that.

Dr. Gramheist handled Albert the now nearly empty butter bowl. "So, if I understand right, Albert, you were the last to really see Sophia today, is that correct?"

Albert slightly reddened. "Y-Yes," he confessed, accepting the bowl and humbly using whatever was still in it on his own potatoes.

"And she was quite upset?"

"Y-Yes, quite upset." Albert did not feel like volunteering more than he had to, but in his mind his thoughts raced to the memory of his cousin rushing into arms and hugging him, her sweet snuggles and how gentle she was even when squeezing him tight...

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Hmm," the doctor said again, but not much more.

"Doctor, what exactly are you thinking?" remarked Augusta, without much hint of interest, "You have 'hmm'ed a couple times now."

"I'm collecting evidence, Ms. Augusta," Dr. Gramheist replied, "so I'm afraid I don't have many thoughts yet. I do appreciate that you have observed my hard work, though."

"It's hard not to observe. You're at the same table as all of us and making noise."

"Yes, well," the doctor retorted, "but you've recognized they are thinking noises that I am making."

"Or so you would like us to believe, yes." Augusta continued to sound unamused as she took a bite of her potato. The doctor, however, smiled slightly.

"And soon you will believe too, Ms. Augusta. I am a very methodical doctor."

"Speaking of doctors," Augusta turned to William, "What exactly did Jerome say was the reason Dr. Fossey still hasn't arrived?"

"Yes, it was quite odd," William admitted, "Jerome said that he finally managed to reach a colleague of Dr. Fossey's who swore the doctor left for Sharpy Island as soon as we summoned him yet no one has seen him since."

"Then what could possibly be keeping him from arriving?"

"I don't know," the family patriach cut a few bits of potato. "The colleague said he would call us back with any updates should Dr. Fossey return or send word."

"How odd."

"And Minnie- I mean, Mrs. Dilly? How is she?" asked Albert. He had spent the afternoon reading in an attempt to not think about his poor cousin's sadness and had not been present for much of the decisions that had been made.

"The colleague Jerome spoke to, while not a doctor, had some medical knowledge. He recommended we put my poor Minnie to bed and to give her some Moxie for energy."

"He did NOT recommend that we drain fluid from her head," added Augusta, shooting a glance at Dr. Gramheist.

Dr. Gramheist, however, seemed unfazed. "Eventually the fluid will need to be drained," he replied, "I will wait to be given permission but the time will come, sooner or later."

"The Moxie did seem to soothe her a bit," continued William, "Last I knew she was resting comfortably in our bedroom and no longer rambling on about 'the sealman'. But vile stuff flavor-wise, Moxie. Mainers swear by it, though."

"Moxie," Dr. Gramheist muttered, "nothing more than bitter tonic water."

Albert watched the portly man shovel more potatoes into his mouth. The doctor seemed to have strong medical opinions. But was he really much of an expert? It was not hard for Albert to pick up that his mother was less than impressed by the psychologist so far- but that said, little impressed his mother at first. Besides, Albert's concern now was much more for Sophia than his mother's opinion. His cousin was quite distressed last he had seen her- the last thing he wanted was for a quack to make her situation worse.

However, before Albert could take another bite of his stuffed potato, a muffled scream filled the air above the diners.

"Was that inside the house?" asked Augusta; it was clearly a woman's scream, yet because it was some distance away it was hard to make out many qualities of the voice.

"Could it be coming from upstairs?" wondered William, a rush of concern coming over him.

Everyone at the table quickly rose to their feet. From the kitchen area, Jerome stuck his head through the door. "Sir, was that you?" he inquired. Incidentally, the scream had sounded muffled where he was as well.

"Jerome, come with us," William instructed as the party rushed to the main staircase.