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Katie nodded. "I'm all she's got."

  "Have you ever had seizures, Katie, or head trauma?"

  "No."

  "How about very bad bellyaches?"

  "Once." Katie smiled. "After my brother dared me to eat ten apples that weren't ripe."

  "But not ... recently?" She shook her head. "How about losing big chunks of time ... you suddenly realize that hours have passed, and you can't remember where you've been or what you've done?"

  At that, inexplicably, Katie blushed again and said no.

  "Have you ever had hallucinations--seen things that aren't really there?"

  "Sometimes I see my sister--"

  "Who died," I interrupted.

  "She drowned at the pond," Katie explained. "When I'm there, she comes too."

  Coop didn't even blink, as if seeing ghosts were the normal course of one's day. "Does she speak to you? Tell you to do anything?"

  "No. She just skates."

  "Does it bother you to see her?"

  "Oh, no."

  "Have you ever been very sick? Had to go to the hospital?"

  "No. Not until this last time."

  "Let's talk about that," Coop said. "Do you know why you were hospitalized?"

  Katie's cheeks flamed and she stared into her lap. "It was for a woman's problem."

  "The doctors said you had a baby."

  "They were wrong," Katie said. "I didn't."

  Coop let the denial roll right off his back. "How old were you when you started menstruating, Katie?"

  "Twelve."

  "Did your mother explain what was happening?"

  "Well, a little. But I knew. I'd seen the animals and such."

  "Do you and your parents talk about sex?"

  Katie's eyes widened, absolutely scandalized. "Of course not. It's not right, not until a girl's gotten herself married."

  "Who says it's not right?"

  "The Lord," she said promptly. "The church. My parents."

  "Would your parents be upset if they found out you were sexually active?"

  "But I'm not."

  "I understand. But if you were, what do you think would happen?"

  "They'd be very disappointed," Katie answered quietly. "And I'd be put in the bann ."

  "What's that?"

  "It's when you break a rule, and the bishop finds out. You have to confess, and then, for a little while anyway, you're shunned." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You're cut off, is all."

  For the first time I saw it through Katie's eyes--the stigma of being an outcast in a community where sameness was so highly valued.

  "If you were in trouble, Katie, would you turn to your mother or father for help?"

  "I would pray," she said. "And whatever happened would be the Lord's will."

  "Have you ever drunk alcohol, or taken drugs?"

  To my great shock, Katie nodded. "I had two beers, once, and peppermint schnapps, when I was with my gang."

  "Your gang?"

  "Other young people who are my friends. We're called the Sparkies. Most Plain kids my age join up with a gang when they come into their Rumspringa ."

  "Rumspringa?"

  "Running-around years. When we're fourteen or fifteen."

  Coop looked at me, but I raised my brows. This was the first I was hearing of it. "So--what made you join the Sparkies?"

  "They were right for me. Not too crazy, but still fun. We have a few fellows who'll buy beer at the Turkey Hill and race their buggies after midnight down Route 340, but most of the wild kids would rather join the Shotguns or the Happy Jacks-- they hold hops, and drive around in plain sight, and really become Sod --worldly. We get together on Sunday nights and sing hymns, mostly. But sometimes," she admitted shyly, "we do other things."

  "Like?"

  "Drink. Dance to music. Well, I used to do that, but now I leave after the singing when things are getting a little crazy."

  "How come?"

  Katie fisted her hands in the grass. "Now I'm baptized."

  Coop's brows raised. "Haven't you been since you were a baby?"

  "No, we get baptized when we're older. For me, it was last year. We make the choice to stand before God and agree to live by the Ordnung --those rules I was talking about."

  "When you went to these singings, and drank and danced, did your parents know?"

  Katie looked toward the house. "All the parents know that the kids are up to something; they just look the other way and hope it isn't too dangerous."

  "Why would they accept behavior like this, but be disappointed by sexual activity?"

  "Because it's a sin. The singings--well, it's kind of like a fling with being English. Folks believe if their kids have a chance to try it once or twice, they'll still give up worldly things and take on the responsibility of living Plain."

  "Do most kids?"

  Ja.

  "Why?"

  "All their friends are Plain. And their family. If they don't join the church, they won't be like everyone else. Plus, they have to be bapti2ed, if they want to get married."

  "Do you? Want to get married?"

  "Who doesn't?" Katie said.

  Coop grinned. "Well, Ellie for one," he joked under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. I was so busy turning over his words in my mind, and what they meant, that I nearly missed his next question.

  "Have you ever kissed a boy, Katie?"

  "Ja," she said, blushing again. "Samuel. And before him, John Beiler."

  "Samuel is your boyfriend?"

  Was, I thought.

  "Have you and your boyfriend ever had sexual intercourse?"

  "No!"

  Coop hesitated. "Does he kiss you anywhere but on the lips?"

  "On the neck," she murmured. "My forehead."

  "What about on your breasts, Katie? Your belly?"

  Katie inched her bare feet out from beneath her skirt and set them one by one into the running creek. "Samuel wouldn't do that."

  "Have you ever let anyone else kiss or touch you?" Coop gently pressed. When she didn't answer, he softened his voice even more. "Do you want to have babies one day, Katie?"

  She lifted her face, the sun lighting her cheeks and her eyes. "Oh, yes," she whispered. "More than anything."

  The moment Katie was out of earshot I verbally pounced on Coop. "What do you think?"

  He lay back on the grassy bank. "That I'm not in Kansas anymore. I need a crash course in Amish life before I evaluate her further."

  "When you find the university offering the night session, will you sign me up?" I sighed. "She said she wants children."

  "Most women who commit neonaticide do. Just not at this time." He hesitated. "Then again, it's also possible that to her, this baby never existed."

  "So you don't think she's lying. You think she really blocked out having that baby."

  Coop was silent for a moment. "I wish I could tell you for sure. The general public seems to believe that shrinks can tell better than the average Joe whether someone's lying through her teeth, but you know what, El? It's a myth. It's too early, really, to make a judgment. If she is lying, she's awfully good at it, and I can't imagine it was part of her upbringing."

  "Well, did you come up with anything conclusive?"

  He shrugged. "I think it's safe to say that she's not psychotic right now."

  "Ghosts notwithstanding?"

  "There's a big difference between a figment of one's imagination and a psychotic delusion. If her sister was appearing and telling her to kill her baby, or saying the Devil was living under the silo, that would be another story."

  "I don't care if she's psychotic now. What about when she delivered the baby?"

  Coop pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "It's clear she's blocking out the pregnancy, and the act that led to it, but you didn't need me to tell you that."

  "What about rape?" Ellie asked.

  "That's tough to call, too. She's so skittish about sex I can't figure out if it's due to religious background or t