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Rebel in the Dark

Chapter Three

Part 1.

The next day, when Olivia snuck away from work to go back to the hospital so she could consult with Jessie's doctor, she was surprised to encounter chaos in Jessie's room. Three security guards and a man in scrubs surrounded the girl, who was sitting up in bed, rocking, blood on the inside of her arm from where she had apparently ripped the IV out.

Just as Olivia stepped into the room, Jessie charged at one of the guards and screamed, "Back off!"

The guard, six feet of solid muscle, began to push back against Jessie, trying to get his arms around her to restrain her. "Hold on!" yelled Olivia, as she jumped into the center of the conflict, holding her hands out, palms down. Olivia's voice stopped everyone's forward momentum, including Jessie's, although the young woman's head stayed lowered like a bull ready to charge, her eyes wild. Olivia turned to her and said, "Jessie, you want to have a seat on the bed?"

Panting heavily, Jessie sat down just as another young woman about her age, but taller and thinner, entered the room. The young woman had short, spiky hair, and looked as if she could be another security guard, but she addressed Jessie as if they were good friends, saying, "Jessie, what's going on?"

Jessie's eyes lit up, and a smile replaced her scowl as if someone had flipped a switch. "Amanda!" Jessie said, ignoring the guards now.

"Hey, girlfriend," said Amanda, holding out a handful of CD's and a cup. "I brought you some new music and your favorite—iced coffee."

"Yeah?" said Jessie, her eyes drooping with sudden exhaustion. "I'm glad to see you."

As if noticing Olivia for the first time, Jessie looked at her and said, "And I'm glad to see your face again too."

"I'm glad to see you too," said Olivia. As Amanda kept her distracted, Olivia turned her attention to the security guards and said, "What happened?"

The man in scrubs joined them and said, "I was just checking vital signs—I didn't even do anything painful. She just freaked out. Screamed at me to get away from her, and came after me. She stopped when the IV came out of her arm, and I guess someone called security, because they showed up pretty quick."

One of the guards said, "We just happened to be down the hall on another call, and when we showed up, she was pretty riled up. We didn't do anything to her before you showed up. We were just trying to talk her down."

Ideas poured into Olivia's head, but she tried to keep an open mind until she could find out more. After security left, Amanda introduced herself. "I work with Jessie," she said. "She lives in a home with staff twenty-four hours a day."

"Oh, okay," said Olivia. "So she doesn't live at home?"

"No, she's been with our agency since she was sixteen," said Amanda, watching Jessie as her head began to nod while listening to music on an mp3 player. "We consider her like family. I hear you work with rape victims."

"I do," said Olivia, her muscles tensing. "Why?"

Amanda looked at her straight on and said, "We've suspected for a while now that Jessie suffered abuse in the past. We haven't asked her, because she gets upset easily, and she hasn't volunteered any information to us or to her psychologist. But she has had behavioral problems ever since she came to us, and they seem to be unrelated to her disabilities."

"What do you mean?" Olivia said, fine hairs bristling on her arms and the back of her neck.

"Well, I've worked this job for five years now, and other clients I've worked with act out when they want something. Jessie acts out aggressively for no reason sometimes, and she usually looks as if she's trapped in a corner when she does it. And she doesn't like anything in her bedroom. She rips up anything left in there, as if simple objects might hurt her." Amanda got silent for a minute, as if reflecting on the oddness of Jessie's hang-ups. Then she spoke again, saying, "I heard that when she first came to our agency, she didn't like to go near the bathroom, and she would only sleep on the couch with female staff sitting right next to her."

Olivia looked at Jessie, who was sound asleep now. She shook her head. "Sounds like PTSD," she volunteered finally.

"That's what I've always thought," said Amanda.

They both stared at Jessie's chest rising and falling, and Olivia knew she would not be able to rest until she got to the bottom of this.

Part 2.

Olivia fought off a nasty mood the rest of the day, trying to take her mind off Jessie by burying herself in existing cases, but unable to stop thinking about her daughter for more than a couple of minutes at a time. Elliot's voice startled her, as he said, "Captain wants the report from the Cooper case on his desk by the end of today."

"Shit," she said, rubbing her forehead. "I forgot all about it."

Elliot sat on a corner of her desk. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, El," she said, trying to keep an edge of irritation out of her voice.

"I'm just wondering, because you seem distracted the past couple of days," he said, trying to make eye contact.

But she continued to avert her eyes, unable to lie directly to his face. "I'm just . . . tired," she said, looking up at him now. "Really, I'll be fine."

He stood, and rubbed her shoulder for a few blissful seconds before going back to her desk. She should just tell him, she knew. But she also knew she wouldn't—not until she found out what had happened to Jessie. She didn't know why it had to be that way—he would be a big help if she allowed him to investigate with her, but something inside her put the brakes on her confession to him, and she wasn't ready to overcome her own internal resistance.