Kentucky State Psychiatric Hospital.
The man carefully peeled an apple, then cut it into several pieces. Just as he was about to set down the fruit knife, he felt it was too close to the woman.
In the end, he forced himself to stand, dragging along his right leg, whose knee could barely bend. He shuffled a few steps to the table on the other side and set the knife down before returning to his seat.
"Marcy, darling, I need to go out for a few days to see an old friend. Be good and wait for me to come back. Come on, sweetheart, open your mouth."
William Stryker placed a piece of apple into his wife Marcy's mouth. The woman stared blankly at the corner of the room with the fruit still in her mouth, not chewing even once for a long while.
Stryker did not urge her. He picked up a tissue and wiped the clear fluid running from Marcy's nose, continuing gently, "Actually, I'm quite glad to see you immersed in that state again. Really! Because I believe that in that world, you, me, and Jason—our whole family—are living happily together. No troubles, no strange people. Everything is as ordinary as can be."
Marcy Stryker shifted her jaw. Aside from her pale complexion and deeply sunken cheeks, she was cleaner and more neatly kept than any patient in this hospital.
Perhaps the apple in her mouth had stirred some memory. Light suddenly returned to Marcy's eyes, and her face became animated. Yet she looked toward the empty spot by the ward door, chewing the apple as she said with a cheerful smile, "Mm, William, the apples you bought today are pretty good. Not as sour as last time. Oh, right! Darling, don't you think Jason might be