The judge looked at her for a moment before beginning. He didn't want either of the attorneys asking her questions. They had already agreed to let the judge handle the questions, and both sides would attempt to be satisfied with that. But she seemed not to hear the judge at first when he spoke to her, and then finally she turned her face up toward where he sat when she heard her name.

“Vanessa?” His voice was gruff but his eyes were kind. He was a big man and he had grandchildren, and he felt for this child with the bleak gray eyes. They looked like dead fields in winter, and he suddenly wanted to take her into his arms. “Do you understand why you're here?” She nodded in silence, her eyes wide. “Can you tell us why?”

“Because Uncle Teddy wants me to come and live with him.” She glanced at him, but she looked more frightened than pleased. She was frightened by the entire proceeding. It reminded her of something else, but she wasn't sure what. She just knew it hadn't been pleasant, and neither was this.

“Are you fond of your uncle Teddy, dear?” She nodded, and this time she smiled.

“He always comes to help me. And we play good games.” The judge nodded.

“When you say that he comes to help you, what do you mean?”

“Like if something bad happens.” She began to look more animated than she had. “Like once, when …” She began to look troubled and very faraway. “… when my mommy was sick … he came to us … I don't remember …” She looked up vaguely, as though she had forgotten the story, and Teddy narrowed his eyes as he watched her. She had been referring to when Serena was giving birth to Charlotte. But had Vanessa really forgotten, or was she afraid to tell the story? He didn't understand. “I don't remember.” She began to look glazed again and sat in the chair staring at her hands.

“It's all right, dear. Do you think you might like living with your uncle Teddy?” She nodded and her eyes searched him out, but there was so little emotion in her face that it was frightening. She looked as though when Serena had died she had died too. “Are you happy in the home of your aunt and uncle now?” She nodded again. “Do they treat you well?”

She nodded and looked at him sadly. “They buy me a lot of dolls.”

“That's nice. Are you close to your aunt, Mrs. Fullerton?”

For a long time Vanessa didn't answer and then she shrugged. “Yes.”

He felt so sorry for the child, she looked so broken and so lonely. It was obvious that she needed a mother to comfort her. A man just wouldn't be enough. “Do you miss your mother and sister very much?” He said it very gently, as though he really cared, but Vanessa looked up at him in surprise.

“I don't have a sister.” She looked blank.

“But you did of course … I meant …” He looked a little confused and Vanessa stared at him.

“I never had a sister. My daddy died in the war when I was three and a half.” She said it as though she were reciting, and where Teddy sat a light dawned in his eyes. He was the first to understand, as Vanessa went on. “And I didn't have any brothers and sisters when he died.”

“But when your mother remarried—” The judge persisted with a puzzled frown, and Vanessa shook her little head.

“My mother never remarried.”

With this, the judge began to look annoyed, and Teddy whispered something to his attorney who signaled the judge, but he was silenced. “Vanessa, your mother remarried a man named —” But before he could continue, Teddy's lawyer hastened toward the bench. The judge was about to reprimand him, when he whispered urgently to the judge, who raised his eyebrows, looked thoughtful for a moment, and then signaled Teddy to the bench. There was a moment's whispered conference, during which the judge looked both chagrined and worried. He nodded then, and Teddy and the attorney went back to their seats. “Vanessa,” the judge went on more slowly, watching the child carefully as he spoke, “I'd like to ask you some questions about your mommy. What do you remember about her?”

“That she was very beautiful.” Vanessa said it softly and looked as though she were in a dream. “And she made me very happy.”

“Where did you live with her?”

“In New York.”

“Did you ever live anywhere else with her?”

Vanessa thought for a moment, began to shake her head, and then seemed to remember. “San Francisco. Before my daddy died.”

“I see.” Now the other attorney was beginning to glance strangely both at Vanessa and the judge, but he signaled him to remain silent. “You never lived anywhere else?” She shook her head. “Have you ever been to London, Vanessa?” She thought about it for a minute and shook her head.

“No.”

“Did your mommy ever remarry?”

Vanessa began to squirm and look uncomfortable in her seat, and everyone in the courtroom felt for her. She began to play with her braids and her voice cracked. “No.”

“She had no other children?”

The eyes glazed over again. “No.”

And then the shocker. “How did your mommy die, Vanessa?” The whole courtroom was stunned into silence and Vanessa only sat there, staring straight ahead. At last, in a wisp of a voice, she spoke. “I don't remember. I think she got sick. In a hospital… I don't remember … Uncle Teddy came … and she died. She got sick.…” She began sobbing. “That's what they told me.…”

The judge looked appalled, and he reached down and stroked her hair. “I only have one more question, Vanessa.” She went on crying, but she looked up at him at last. “Are you telling me the truth?” She nodded and sniffed. “Do you promise?”

She spoke in a brave little voice with those two shattered eyes. “Yes.” And it was obvious that she thought she was.

“Thank you.” He signaled for the matron then to take her away and Teddy longed to go to her, but he knew that he couldn't. The door closed behind her, and the courtroom exploded into a hubbub of chatter as the judge pounded his gavel and literally roared at both lawyers. “Why didn't anyone tell me the child was disturbed?” Pattie was put on the stand and insisted that she didn't know it, that she hadn't dared to discuss the murder with Vanessa before. But there was something about the way she testified that told Teddy she was lying. She knew how disturbed Vanessa was, but she didn't give a damn about her, Vanessa was an object—or worse, a prisoner of war. Teddy insisted that he was never allowed enough time with the child to determine anything, although he had begun to suspect it from little things that she said. The hearing was postponed pending further investigation. A psychiatrist was assigned to get a full evaluation of Vanessa before any further decisions were made. Meanwhile the story had leaked to the press and it was all over the headlines that the granddaughter of the Fullertons, and the daughter of the internationally known model, was allegedly “catatonic” after witnessing the murder of her mother, at the hands of Greek-English playboy Vasili Arbus. It went on to discuss Vasili's other wives, the fact that he had been spirited out of the country and was currently in a sanatorium in the Swiss Alps. And the article further explained that Vanessa was now the object of a custody fight between both of her father's surviving brothers: Greg Fullerton, head of the family law firm, and “socialite Surgeon,” Dr. Theodore Fullerton. The articles every day were awful, and eventually Vanessa had to be taken out of school. Before that, some effort had been made to maintain normalcy for her, but she had followed almost nothing in her classes, and much of the time she hadn't gone at all.

The psychiatrist took a full week to come to his conclusions. Vanessa waited in the judge's chamber as the doctor's testimony was given. The child was in a state of severe shock, suffering from depression, and had partial amnesia. She knew who she was, and remembered her life clearly up until the point at which her mother had married Vasili Arbus. In effect she had totally blocked out the last year and a half, and she had repressed it so severely that the doctor had no idea when she would be aware of the truth, if ever. She had some recollection of her mother being extremely ill, and it was, as Teddy had suspected, her memory of her mother in the hospital in London that had conveniently surfaced, but she did not recall that it had happened in London or that the reason for the “sickness” was that her mother was in labor. Along with all memory of Vasili, the memory of the baby she had loved so much, tiny Charlie, had vanished. She had repressed it all to avoid the agony it had brought her.

She was not crazy, the doctor insisted. In fact in some ways what she had done was healthy, for a time. She had cut out the part of her life that was so painful to her, and buried it. It had happened unconsciously, possibly moments after her mother's death or, as the psychiatrist and Teddy both suspected, at the moment when the baby had been taken from her and given to Andreas Arbus in court. It had been at that moment in time that it had all become too much for her. And she hadn't been the same since. She would recover, the psychiatrist felt certain, but whether she would ever remember the truth was a question he could not answer. If she did, it could come upon her at any time, in a month, in a year, in a lifetime. If she didn't, in some way the unresolved pain would always haunt her. He advocated psychiatric treatment for a time, to see if the memories would surface. He insisted though that she should not be pushed or prodded, that the way her mother had died should not be told to her. She should be left alone with her forgotten memories, and if they came of their own, it was all to the good. If they wouldn't come, she should be allowed to keep them buried. It was a bit like living with a time bomb, because one day they would probably surface, and it was impossible to say when. He hoped, he explained to the court and all of the parties involved, that when the child felt more secure again, her presently traumatized psyche would relax enough to allow her to deal with the truth. It would have to be dealt with, he said sadly. One day. If not, it would severely damage the child.