“Are you listening to me, damn it?”
“Yes, I heard you,” Keir said in a calm voice, a mere flick of his eyes toward me then back to the computer. “I’m sure the entire house heard you.”
“She ate nothing today. She shuffles the food around, but doesn’t eat. She needs to eat.” I slammed my fist into the door.
“Yes,” Keir replied, “but no one can force her, Kilter. Not even you.”
“Jesus Christ.” I had no recourse when it came to someone refusing to eat. I couldn’t very well shove food down her throat. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t eating. She should be diving into the food with the way she looked.
“Something else is going on,” Anstice said. “She could have an eating disorder. I don’t know, but she has some of the signs. There are many reasons why a person can develop one.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I retorted.
She pushed away from the ladder, walked over to the desk, and picked up a book, tossing it to me. “Read it.”
“I don’t want to read a fuckin’ book. I want answers.” I tossed the book on the chaise lounge. “Is she dying?”
Keir leaned back in his chair. “She’ll die if she continues to lose weight.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “So, what do we do?”
Anstice raised her brows. “Do you care enough to listen to anyone’s advice?”
“Of course I fuckin’ do.” I’d avoided listening to any of them since the day I stepped into this house, but this was Rayne’s life, and I was at a loss as to what to do.
“He’ll listen,” Keir said.
Anstice rested her butt against the front of the desk, her hands curling around the edge on either side of her. “Anorexia nervosa is a psychological disorder. It’s emotional. There are numerous explanations as to why it occurs. For Rayne, it could’ve been brought on by her husband. He may have instilled the odd comments in the beginning about her weight, or maybe he monitored what she ate when she was young. We know from what Quill said about the look of the compound that Anton was organized and methodical, so Rayne may have been in an environment where she needed to be the same way.
“At first, she may have discovered that by losing weight, she gained something, in a good way, but what she gained I don’t know. Later, it may have been more about her control. He may have told her what to do, what to look like, how to act, and she couldn’t find control in her life, but maybe she felt she could at least find control over her body.” Anstice paused. “No one can force someone to eat. It may sound odd, but maybe she felt like she lost control every time she ate. Or that she failed.”
“But she’s a toothpick. How can she not see that?” Fuck, none of this sounded good, and it was way over my head.
“From what I’ve been told, when Rayne looks in the mirror, she sees a failure. In her head, that may relate to her being fat.” She held up her hand when I went to interject. “Let me put it to you this way, she could never please Anton, so her mind may have created something she thought she could succeed at because she believes she can control her food intake. Starving herself does two things, she can win at it and it gives her control.”
“Why the hell would she care about pleasing that asshole?”
“He’s all she’s had, Kilter. No matter what he did to her, he was her lifeline. I don’t think we can even begin to understand what she’s been through or what it was like.”
“But she’s fuckin’ weak as hell.” I paced back and forth, hand repetitively running through my hair. I hated feeling helpless. I did what had to be done, but suddenly there was nothing I could do.
Anstice nodded. “Not eating is her power. She can slip inside herself and not feel. No emotions, no pain.” She sighed. “I’m not a psychologist, but I talked to three therapists yesterday and read the book.”
“The bastard is dead. She doesn’t have to do this shit anymore,” I said.
Keir sighed, the creak of leather sounding as he shifted in his chair.
Anstice shook her head and raised her eyes heavenward.
“What?” I said.
“She needs therapy, Kilter. You don’t recover spontaneously. It’s much deeper than that,” Keir said. “I’ve investigated several different eating disorder clinics, and I think sending her—”
I stopped pacing, my heart pounding. “Whoa, what? No. She is not being put into another compound. Fuck that.”
“They aren’t compounds. They’re first-class institutions. More like a spa with people who can help her. And she always has the choice to leave,” Anstice said.
“No!”
Anstice looked at Keir and he nodded. “Waleron knows of the situation. He’ll have the final say, Kilter.”