Releasing 10

A three-year-old's silence hides voices only she can hear

At three, Lizzie Young hasn't uttered a word.

A three-year-old's silence hides voices only she can hear

At three, Lizzie Young hasn't uttered a word. Her mother Catherine defends her fiercely against doctors who suspect psychotic episodes, a father who fears his family's history of mental illness will repeat itself, and an older sister Caoimhe who openly resents Lizzie for uprooting their lives. The Youngs have already moved once—from Ireland to England—and Catherine's ongoing battle with cancer compounds the pressure. Lizzie hears voices, sees a terrifying woman with claws in her mind, and experiences blackout rages she cannot remember. Her paternal grandfather drowned himself to escape the same voices; his daughter Nell still hears them. On Lizzie's fourth birthday, she finally speaks—counting candles, naming her family—and for one brief moment, everyone exhales. But Lizzie already knows something is deeply wrong inside her head.

Caoimhe's boyfriend tells five-year-old Lizzie he can cure her sickness

Fourteen-year-old Mark Allen, Caoimhe's new boyfriend, takes an immediate interest in her little sister. He plays games, calls her munchkin, and becomes Lizzie's first friend outside the family. Then, on Christmas night, he slips into her bedroom. He tells Lizzie she's sick like her mother and will die unless he fixes her with his special powers. He photographs her. He escalates from touching to penetration over months, framing each violation as medicine. Lizzie complies because she doesn't want to lose her hair like her cancer-stricken mother. She doesn't scream because she believes the abuse is treatment. Her nightmares worsen, the voices grow louder, and the clawed woman appears more frequently—but the doctors insist all of it exists only in her head.

A seven-year-old boy sits down beside her on the bus

Hugh Biggs is a seven-year-old with his mother's kindness and a mind that devours books whole. Forced to invite his sister Claire's friends to his Halloween birthday party, he hands an envelope to a white-haired girl on the school bus and forgets how to breathe. Lizzie sniffs his neck, tells him he gives her the hots, and doesn't look away when he stares. She is strange, brilliant, fearless, and nothing like the other girls. On the bus ride, she matches him fact for fact in books, spelling, and mental math. He discovers she's been held back in school despite being smarter than most of his class. By the time they part, both have invented a name for the fluttering sensation in their stomachs: flutter-cups. Neither will outgrow it.