herself, and eventually, forgotten all about the young, cocky professor she once held in such high regard. Alas…”
He turns back to the window and reaches for the bottle, but doesn’t open it. He grips it tight, knuckles whitening on the neck, and takes a steadying breath.
“During our first winter break, Elizabeth was manipulated by a dark mage. From what I could piece together from her journals later, he got into her mind and convinced her that he was actually me. And from there?” Doc releases a long breath, fogging the windowpane. With his free hand, he draws a spiral in the mist. “Understand, Stevie. The most dangerous thing about true mental manipulation is that it requires very little upkeep. All he had to do was plant a few tiny lies, like scattering seeds in a freshly tilled field. With very little encouragement, those seeds eventually rooted, and from there, they bloomed into a tangled garden of deep, dark deceptions.”
My skin erupts in goosebumps, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep the chill at bay.
“Elizabeth had very quickly invented an alternate reality, one in which she and I were married and in love, hiding our relationship to avoid accusations of favoritism. But after several weeks of this, she decided my lack of affection was due not to my standards of professionalism, but to an affair. She convinced herself I was sneaking around behind her back, mocking her ignorance, undermining her credibility as a woman as well as a witch. She never discussed this with me, of course—it was all unfolding in her mind. It only came to light through her journals. During this time, my colleagues and I knew she wasn’t well—her grades had dropped, she’d shut out her friends and fellow students, she was exhausted and delirious on the best of days—but no one could get through to her. Not even the headmaster or the academy healers.”
“What about her family?”
“She was twenty years old, no guardians or next of kin listed in her records. For months, we were at a total loss. All we could do was try to encourage her studies and keep an eye on her to the limited extent we were able.”
“Goddess, that’s awful.”
“It’s a horrible thing to watch someone’s mind unravel before your eyes, with no idea how to stop it. How to help. She was clearly angry with me, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. She’d never expressed her feelings to me directly or acted inappropriately, so it’s not like there was a rejection to contend with. From what we could tell, there were no substance or alcohol issues, no missing magickal ingredients from the potions classes. We’d reached the point where we were considering bringing in magickal specialists from London to work with her privately, but then things got a bit better. She was participating in class again, her health had improved, some of the spark had returned to her eyes. But one day, she walked into my classroom while I was alone with another student—a third-year witch who needed help with visualizations. Elizabeth saw us practicing the role-playing exercises and assumed the worst. She tore into the room, crying and shouting, ripping up papers and tossing books on the floor… I’d never seen such a tantrum.
“We contacted one of the healers, who gave her a mild sedative and took her back to the healing center to rest. Later that night, Elizabeth attacked the healer, snuck out of the center, and broke into the third-year student’s suite. She…” Doc shakes his head, then finally cracks open the bottle again, taking another swig before continuing. “She beat that poor girl into a coma, Stevie. Broke her ribs, carved her face up with an athame, left her blind in one eye… She told the authorities that I implored her to do it. That I worried the student was plotting to kill me… Goddess, it was such a twisted fantasy, such an impossible tale. But in her mind, all of it made perfect sense. We were the crazy ones for doubting her.”
Doc lifts the bottle to his lips again, but changes his mind, setting it back on the dresser and taking a seat on the bed. I sit down next to him, leaving a little space between us, not wanting to crowd him.
“After the attack, one of her former friends was finally able to track down next of kin—an aunt in Munich—and the authorities agreed to release Elizabeth into