The sound of his raised voice brought Zee to her feet. Mattei got to the door in time to see him hurl a glass paperweight across the room, shattering it against the far wall.

“Do you need some help in here?” Mattei asked Zee.

William looked confused and embarrassed. “I was just leaving,” he said.

“Let me see you to the door,” Mattei said.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Zee.

Mattei held the door for him, shooting Zee a look as they left.

TWO DAYS BEFORE LILLY WAS scheduled to be released, both Zee and Mattei were called to the hospital. Lilly’s hospital psychiatrist sat across from a social worker named Emily, whom Zee recognized from the Department of Social Services.

“What’s going on?” Zee asked.

“We’re here because of Lilly’s physical injuries,” Emily said.

“What physical injuries?” Zee asked.

“The ones she initially presented with,” the social worker said.

“Lilly refuses to talk about them,” the staff psychiatrist said.

“She told me she fell,” Zee said. “On Halloween night.”

“That’s what’s on her admission records,” the psychiatrist said. “‘Suffered a fall on Halloween night due to slippery rocks.’” She looked at the others. “It was raining pretty hard on Halloween.”

“The bruises aren’t consistent with a fall,” Emily said. “They seem more like a beating.”

“You think she was beaten?” Zee asked.

“This is routine procedure,” Emily said. “Especially when the woman doesn’t give an explanation consistent with her injuries.”

“Lilly is scheduled to be released in two days,” the psychiatrist said. “She’s stable, her medications are properly dosed, and she’s showing no signs of depression.”

“I would respectfully disagree on that last point,” Zee said. “I think she seems depressed. She’s normally much more communicative.”

The psychiatrist paused to consider. “There is one point that makes me agree with you, Dr. Finch.”

“Only one?” Zee was getting annoyed. “What’s that?”

“Lilly does not want to go home.”

“Which plays into our suspicions of spousal abuse,” the social worker said.

“It’s not William,” Zee said.

“But if she’s afraid to go home…” the social worker said.

“She doesn’t feel safe at home.” Zee turned to Mattei. “If she was abused in any way, it’s Adam.”

“Who’s Adam?” Emily asked.

“Lilly was having an affair with him several months ago. He was here the other day.”

“Maybe the husband found out about the affair,” Emily suggested. “Maybe that’s what made him violent.”

“It’s not William,” Zee said again. “He’s not the type.”

Emily looked to Mattei for verification.

“I think Zee’s right,” Mattei said. “But I can’t say for certain that it wasn’t William.”

Zee shot her a look.

“I would have agreed with you until the other day,” Mattei said.

“What happened the other day?”

“There was an incident. We had to escort him from the office.”

“I think we have to cover all bases,” the psychiatrist said.

“What we really need is a formal complaint,” Emily said. “No matter which one it is.”

“You can try,” Zee said. “But I can tell you right now, she’ll never give it to you. She doesn’t want William to know about her affair. And she’s afraid of Adam.”

NOT ONLY DID LILLY REFUSE to file a complaint, but when she was released from the hospital, she decided she wanted to see another therapist. “One closer to home,” William told Zee.

The internist who had initially prescribed the Klonopin set her up with an old-school Freudian analyst who worked out of Salem Hospital. She had agreed to meet with him five days a week and to start analysis.

“You’re kidding me,” Mattei said.

But Zee was clearly upset. “We have to stop them,” Zee said. “She shouldn’t be starting over again. That’s not the right kind of therapy for her. And she won’t tell the new therapist the truth until it’s too late… We have to do something,” Zee said to Mattei.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Mattei said. “She’s not your patient anymore.”

IT HAD BEEN A TOUGH winter for Zee. She’d begun to dream about Lilly, and in her dreams the images of Lilly and Zee’s mother, Maureen, had become confused. They were still separate people, but in the dream she was unable to tell them apart and kept having to ask which one she was talking to.

“This is good,” Mattei said when Zee detailed the dream in her next session.

“Really? How so?” Zee asked.

“Let’s talk about the real reason you became a therapist.”

“It wasn’t the unfulfilled dream of my mother, I can tell you that much.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Oh, please,” Zee said.

“What was the unfulfilled dream of your mother?”

“We both know what it was.”

“Why don’t you tell me again?” Mattei said.

“The Great Love. It’s what she wanted from my father-and what she never got.”

“So already there’s a similarity to Lilly.”

“And just about every other woman in America,” Zee said.

“True enough. Your mother was onto something when she started writing fairy tales about The Great Love.”

“Something that evidently killed her,” Zee said.

“Which?” Mattei said.

“Was it the fairy tale that killed her? Or The Great Love?”

“Aren’t they pretty much the same thing?”

“You tell me,” Mattei said.

When Zee didn’t take the bait, Mattei asked a different question. “What’s the other dream of the fairy tale?”

“Besides true love?”

“What are both your mother and Lilly looking for?” Mattei asked.

“My mother’s not looking for anything. My mother’s dead.” Zee was growing tired of this line of questioning.

“Bear with me for a moment,” Mattei said.

Zee folded her arms across her chest.

“What did your mother want from you then, and what does Lilly want now?”

“I don’t know,” Zee said.

“Think about it.”

ZEE THOUGHT ABOUT MATTEI’S QUESTION, and she thought about Lilly Braedon many times during the next few months.

It was William who finally contacted Zee. He was desperate. “She’s not doing well,” he sobbed into the phone. “I don’t know what to do.” He told Zee that Lilly had stopped the therapy within the first month. Convinced that the doctor was coming on to her, she had refused to step back into his office. “I don’t know,” William said. “She’s such a beautiful woman. Men can’t help throwing themselves at her. I tend to believe her.” He tried to compose himself before going on. “She won’t even get out of bed.”

Whose bed? Zee wanted to ask. But she didn’t. Instead she agreed to go to the house to meet with Lilly, and with that, Zee crossed another line.

THE HOUSE WAS A MESS. It hadn’t been cleaned for weeks, William told her. Finally, in frustration, he had hired a maid service, three women from Brazil who didn’t speak much English, which he decided was a good thing, because he was afraid of what Lilly might say to them if she started talking. But instead of speaking even a word of hello, Lilly had taken to locking herself in her bedroom and crying the whole time they tried to clean-huge, wrenching sobs that finally upset the maids so much that they quit. “What was she crying about?” he’d asked the women, but they didn’t know. Gesturing, they managed to communicate to him that Lilly had been talking on the phone with someone.

William thought that maybe the phone calls had been to Zee.

Zee didn’t tell him what she already knew, that the phone calls were to Adam.

“You didn’t break up with Adam, did you?” Zee asked Lilly at her first return session.

“I couldn’t,” Lilly said. Then she started to cry.

LILLY BECAME ZEE’S PATIENT ONCE more. And once again her meds were adjusted. Soon she was driving herself into Boston on a regular basis. She seemed better. Spring was turning to summer again, and Lilly’s spirits were lifting.