"Mrs. Starr, can you understand me? I'm Dr. Van de Vliet. I need to talk to you about your daughter, Kristen."
"Who . . . who are you?" she mumbled, her eyes trying to focus.
"I'm Kristen's physician. She came to see me some months back. Do you recall? About her . . . skin problem. I seem to remember you came here with her at one point."
She stared at him mutely for a moment, then closed her eyes and nodded.
"At that time, Mrs. Starr, we discussed some radical treatment options. Things that hadn't been tried before. Do you have any recollection of that?"
She opened her eyes again and stared at him, trying to focus.
"You said she'd be all right," she mumbled, slurring the words. "Then your receptionist told me she'd gone to New Mexico. But I got a letter—"
"That story was to protect her professionally," he lied. "She was afraid the press might find out she was here and start speculating about her health. But now she's in the post‑procedure phase of treatment. It may be a while longer before she's able to return to the normal life she's used to."
"She's okay, isn't she?" came a plaintive, slurred mumble. "In her letter it sounded like she’d lost her memory or something. She didn't sound right."
It was a question that cut him to the core.