Dr. Reynolds said to Mindy. Almost a whole week had passed since Grandpa had found Mindy in her room, since he had gone to the police and the whole world had changed, and this woman with the plain hair and pink lipstick was now here almost every day, trying to act like she was her mother, though she looked nothing like her mother, more like the school nurse. They once again sat in her bedroom with the door closed to “insure privacy,” the doctor had said. “What’s a deposition?” Mindy asked because she did not know what one was and wasn’t sure if she had one to give. Dr. Laura Reynolds smiled. “It’s like being in a video. The lawyer will ask you questions about what happened with Mr. Niles. A camera will record what you say and do.” “What do I have to do? Play with dolls or something?” She remembered one of those movies in school where they used dolls to show what parts of who were okay to touch and what parts were not. She’d been about six at the time and had already figured out the parts on her own, not because of some dumb movie, but because she and Derrick Smith, who had since moved off-island, had looked at each other’s “parts”
