Author's Note: As there isn't much explained about the doctor, I've taken a lot of liberties with her past. I've also taken liberties with Toby's state in the asylum.
It's Thursday and he won't eat. It's the first time he's ever refused food. She tries to get him to have just a little, but he pushes her hand away. The spoon she's holding tips over and some of his breakfast falls in her lap, but she ignores it. She tries again, a little more forcefully this time, but he still refuses the meal. Angered, she tells him that if he won't eat, he can starve. She leaves the cell feeling more accomplished than she should. It was unprofessional of her to lose her temper, but the boy should know his place.
(It's Monday and it's sunny, and she's swinging her legs and sitting on the fence, and a man is walking up the street, limping. As he approaches she can see a gash in his leg from his ankle to about halfway up his calf. She waves, and he waves back but presses on. She calls to him and he stops. She jumps off the fence and runs over to him. He needs medical attention, she says. She's got a needle and thread upstairs-- won't he wait a moment?)