Cobblepot did not understand why she had suddenly brought this up, but the woman seemed to have a great deal she wanted to say. He cautiously did not interrupt her.
"We got married fifteen years ago. We had always had a good relationship after the wedding, and we had two lovely children. But about ten years ago, one day, he came home soaked to the skin, looking completely distracted. No matter what I asked him, he wouldn't say anything."
"After that, he started drinking heavily. Though he was always out of it, he never hurt me or the children. I heard him mutter things in his sleep, but I could never make them out clearly... Until one day four years ago, he left the house and never came back."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know. No one could find his body. Maybe he just disappeared."
"Then why did you come here? And why did you set your sights on Edward?"
The nurse named Hollis pressed her lips together. She looked up and stared intently at Cobblepot. "Can I trust you?"
"Yes, ma'am." Cobblepot nodded. "And I trust you as well, because you have always taken such good care of Edward. Without you, he would not have recovered so quickly."
Cobblepot was not making things up to win her trust. It was simply true. Both he and his mother suffered from hereditary mental illness, so he understood better than most that while scientific treatment was important in treating mental illness, compassionate care was the key to recovery. Concern and care were especially important for psychiatric patients. Otherwise, he would not have set aside most of his work to come here and personally accompany his mother.
Edward's mental problems had been severe when he first came here. He had almost completely lost