Look Closely - Laura Caldwell [80]
Dr. Adler placed his elbows on his desk, forming a steeple with his fingers and leaning his chin on them. “Ms. Sutter, I cared about Caroline very much, and I was extremely proud of her progress. I still worry about her from time to time, but I keep in loose contact with her, and the letters I’ve received indicate nothing like what you’re suggesting.”
“When did you last hear from her?”
Dr. Adler pulled open a lower desk drawer that I couldn’t see. He turned his body and flipped through files. He lifted a sheet, glanced at it, then returned it to the drawer. “Six months ago.”
“Before she disappeared.”
“That’s correct.”
“Was she ever suicidal?”
“I can’t tell you that,” he said.
I tried not to show my frustration. Why was I here if he wasn’t prepared to tell me something? I decided to try again.
“Then just think the answer to yourself,” I said. “Ask yourself, was Caroline suicidal? Does the fact that she disappeared in the middle of a wedding and left a note for her husband telling him that she needed time away indicate that she might have had some kind of relapse? Does the fact that she is still missing mean that she might have harmed herself or be thinking about doing so?”
My voice raised slightly, despite my best efforts to remain calm. I didn’t want to anger Dr. Adler, but the more I talked, thinking about my sister out there somewhere, alone, when she had already spent so much of her life by herself, had given me real worry. This wasn’t just about me anymore and satisfying my need to discover what had happened to my mother. This had to be about Caroline and Dan, too.
The office was silent for a long time. Dr. Adler’s eyes narrowed as if he was going through a mental exercise. I tried to sit perfectly still, tried not to tap a foot or even blink my eyes.
Finally he said, “Yes. It’s possible that Caroline may try to hurt herself.”
“Then you can break the privilege. You can help me to help her.”
Silence again. And he nodded.
Dr. Adler had me wait in his office while he left the room to gather Caroline’s files, and then again he left me waiting while he sat at his desk and reviewed them. It seemed an interminably long time.
I crossed and recrossed my legs, struggling to stay upright in the cushy chair, holding in an impatient sigh. It occurred to me that if the Portland police had contacted Dr. Adler, then the police must have learned about the clinic from Matt, which meant that Caroline had told him about her stay here. The thought that they were so close, that Caroline had someone in her life she could talk openly with, comforted me.
At last, Dr. Adler took his chair again and looked at me. “First, I should start by telling you that I was a psychiatric resident when Caroline was first admitted here. She was technically under the care of Dr. Sammeth, who is no longer with us, but because of the nature of my residency, I was the physician who saw Caroline most often.”
I nodded, eager to get straight to the point. “And why was she admitted to begin with?”
“Caroline was admitted to Crestwood following a suicide attempt.”
“Oh,” I said, the sound slipping out of my mouth before I realized it. I had taken a stab in the dark when I asked Dr. Adler if Caroline had been suicidal, thinking that it might get him to help me, but hearing that she had actually tried to take her own life sent a surge of sadness through my body. It threatened to exhaust me.
Dr. Adler continued in a flat voice. “She used a kitchen knife to slit her wrists on the day she was supposed to graduate from high school. A place called…” Dr. Adler flipped through some notes.
“Brighton Academy,” I said, my voice flat.
He gave me a glance, then returned his eyes to the file. “That’s right. When we did an initial intake exam we found that she had been engaged in self-mutilation for a period of approximately five years.”
“Self-mutilation,” I repeated, finding my throat suddenly