Don't Slay the Dragon (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 1) by Lucas Rachel

Author:Lucas, Rachel [Lucas, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Rachel Lucas
Published: 2012-07-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

I was in unfamiliar territory. Taking a deep, startled breath, I took her hand in a brief grasp and unconsciously leaned a little further back on the bed. I was amazed. There was no change. I would have sworn it was Lisbeth looking right back at me. If it weren’t for the grin.

“How long have you been here with us?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and in control.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She gave me a playful wink.

“Who are you, Sophie?” I asked then braced myself for the answer.

“Well, let’s see,” she brought a hand up and tapped a finger against her temple in thought, “I guess you could say I was created by Barbara. As Dr. Ross would put it,” her voice changed to do a fair imitation of the doctor, “Sophie was created from Elizabeth’s need to deal with an unstable, controlling, combative mother. Sophie was born from the need to deal with Barbara’s increasing obsession with religious martyrdom. Barbara became convinced that her daughter was a punishment from God for turning her back on religion when she was a young girl. Her daughter needed to be purged of all the evil so Barbara could be saved. Someone had to be strong enough to deal with that. Someone had to be tough enough, intelligent enough, to fight Barbara’s religious fervor. Sophie was the answer. Sophie is a survivor, a fighter. She is probably the most complex of the many personalities.” Her whole face seemed to light up. She was enjoying the self-commentary.

“So you’re aware of your disorder,” I cautiously guessed.

“Honey, I could have written the book on Dissociative Identity Disorder,” she was grinning that grin again. “Next to me, Beth Ann is still in kindergarten. Who do you think keeps track of everyone? Who do you think really maintains control? It’s definitely not that poor Lisbeth. She can barely function. Who do you think goes head to head with that narcissistic Dr. Ross? Do you think just anyone can fool him into believing Lisbeth is a ‘model’ patient?”

“Why are you here, Sophie?” I decided to be direct.

The quilt fell to the floor and she started to casually wander around the room. She paused to look at the pictures on the wall, studied one or two, as though judging the artistic value of each.

“I guess you could say I’ve grown tired of Lisbeth’s pathetic vows of innocence. ‘I didn’t do it’, ‘I’m innocent’,” she parroted her own voice, “’You must believe me. I would never kill Barbara!’ What a joke!”

Her eyes were still such a clear, innocent green. She appeared bright, alert, intelligent. Maybe this was the most dangerous personality of them all. The one that mimicked Lisbeth so well that even I had a hard time telling them apart. Just when I was truly starting to believe in her innocence, just when the evidence started to point towards Barbara and away from Lisbeth, then Sophie appears.

“Did you harm Barbara that night?” I had to ask.

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