CHAPTER 195: CHAPTER 195: SPLIT PERSONALITY

In the open-air garden outside the pediatric ward, the afternoon sun poured down warmly.

A few children, wearing either hospital gowns or their own clothes, were playing near the slide and sandpit, their laughter echoing continually.

Rhiannon Ford had just finished taking the temperature of a feverish child. She exited the ward and prepared to return to the nurse’s station to record it.

She walked through the garden, her eyes casually sweeping over the playing children.

Her gaze was soon drawn to a scene by the swing set in the corner.

Four or five slightly older children, around seven or eight years old, gathered around a smaller, more delicate-looking little girl.

The little girl wore a faded hospital gown, her hair was dull and yellowed, her head lowered, arms tightly hugging herself, her body slightly trembling.

A chubby little boy stood at the front, poking the little girl’s shoulder with his finger, his voice malicious: "Hey, monster, why are you alone here again? No one wants to play with you, right?"

A girl with pigtails chimed in, her voice sharp: "My mom said we can’t play with you, you’re crazy, it’s contagious."

"Yeah, crazy, stay away from us!" Another tall, thin boy pushed the little girl forcefully.

The little girl staggered, nearly falling, but she neither cried nor spoke, only buried her head lower, her body shrinking into itself.

"Look at her, she looks foolish."

The chubby boy seemed unsatisfied with just pushing and stepped forward, intending to grab the little girl’s hair.

"What are you doing!"

A female voice, filled with anger, suddenly rang out.

Rhiannon Ford quickly walked over, pushing the chubby boy aside, standing protectively in front of the little girl.

She wore a white nurse’s uniform, her face stern, her gaze sweeping sharply over the children behaving badly.

"Who allows you to bully people? Hmm?" Rhiannon asked fiercely, "How old are you now? Teaming up to bully a little girl, aren’t you embarrassed?"

The children were obviously startled by the nurse’s sudden appearance, especially the chubby boy in the lead. Seeing the nurse badge on Rhiannon’s chest, his arrogance diminished, though he still mumbled defiantly, "We weren’t bullying her... she’s a monster..."

"What monster, stop talking nonsense."

Rhiannon interrupted him, kneeling down, trying to soften her tone as she looked at the little girl trembling behind her.

"Little one, are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?"

She reached out, intending to check on the little girl’s condition.

At that moment, something unexpected happened. The little girl, who had been silent, suddenly raised her head.

Rhiannon met a pair of eyes. They were eyes ill-suited for a child, devoid of innocence and fear, instead filled with wild vigilance and an almost mad hostility, pupils constricted tightly like some frightened beast’s.

Before Rhiannon could react, a low, inhuman whimper emerged from the girl’s throat. Then, with lightning speed, she opened her mouth and bit hard on Rhiannon’s outstretched wrist.

"Ah—"

The sharp pain came instantly, catching Rhiannon off guard, making her cry out.

Reflexively, she tried to shake off the little girl, but the bite was tight, teeth sinking deeply into the flesh, blood immediately gushing out, staining the sleeves of her white uniform red.

The children, who had been enjoying the spectacle, were shocked by the sudden violence, and someone yelled.

"Run, she’s gone crazy again."

The children immediately scattered, screaming as they ran away.

Rhiannon, enduring excruciating pain, used her other hand to pry the little girl’s jaw open, finally managing to get her to release her grip.

As soon as she was free, the little girl, like a frightened rabbit, darted away without looking back at Rhiannon, disappearing at the other end of the garden in an instant.

Rhiannon clutched her bleeding wrist, grimacing in pain, feeling both shocked and angry.

She looked at the clear, blood-deep bite marks on her wrist, incredulous.

She had kindly tried to help, only to be bitten in return?

Filled with a mix of anger and frustration, Rhiannon quickly returned to the pediatric nurse’s station.

The head nurse was verifying medical orders. Seeing Rhiannon walk in, clutching her wrist, sleeves bloodied, her expression grim, she was momentarily stunned and quickly asked: "What happened to you, did you get into a fight?"

Rhiannon sat heavily in a chair, picked up iodine and cotton swabs, and began treating her wound, her tone brisk.

"I got bitten by a child."

As she endured the sting of disinfecting, she briefly recounted the incident.

"In the garden, I saw some older kids bullying a little girl, so I told them off, trying to protect her. But what happened? As soon as I crouched to ask if she was okay, she looked up and bit me like this. So much for no good deed going unpunished."

The head nurse, listening to her account, became gradually more serious.

She came over to inspect the wound on Rhiannon’s wrist closely, her brow furrowing.

"The little girl you mentioned, is she about six or seven, very thin, with yellowish hair, not very talkative?" the head nurse asked.

Rhiannon paused, recalling the image of the little girl, and nodded.

"Yes, that’s her. She was wearing a hospital gown, being cursed at by several kids by the swing set, saying she’s a monster, a lunatic."

The head nurse sighed deeply, her tone heavy: "That’s Sylvie. She’s not a patient in our pediatric ward; she’s temporarily placed here for observation by psychiatry."

"Psychiatry?" Rhiannon paused in her actions.

"Yes." The head nurse nodded, lowering her voice. "Sylvie has dissociative identity disorder."

Rhiannon’s eyes widened, the cotton swab in her hand falling onto the table: "Dis... dissociative identity disorder?"

"Yes." The head nurse’s expression was grave. "And it’s very complicated. According to Doctor Sterling and the records from psychiatry, ten personalities have existed within her."

"Ten... ten?!"

Rhiannon Ford gasped, feeling a chill on her back. She had only heard of this illness in films and TV shows; it was her first time encountering it in real life.

The head nurse continued, "During her growth and treatment, for various reasons, two personalities disappeared, or you could say died. Now, there are still eight different personalities within her body."

Eight...personalities...

Rhiannon’s mind buzzed as she recalled the wild and frantic eyes Sylvie had given her, eyes that were completely unlike a child’s.

That was not the usually timid and silent little girl; it was another personality.

"She...she bit me just now..." Rhiannon’s voice was a bit dry.

"That was probably not Sylvie herself," the head nurse explained. "It’s possible that another aggressive personality was provoked by the bullying from those children. You’re unfamiliar to her, and she doesn’t trust you. She feels threatened, so she attacked you."

Rhiannon stared blankly at the disinfected and bandaged wound on her wrist, feeling a mix of emotions.

Anger and grievance were gradually replaced by a complex emotion.

Earlier, she thought the little girl was ungrateful, a little lunatic; now she understood that the girl had no control over herself.

"So those kids called her a monster, a lunatic..." Rhiannon muttered.

"Ordinary children don’t understand these things. Seeing her different from other kids, they might be scared or reject her," the head nurse sighed. "Sylvie is very sensitive; she can sense malice and fear from others, which destabilizes her condition."

She patted Rhiannon’s shoulder with a cautionary tone: "Ford, try not to approach Sylvie alone again, especially when her emotions seem off. You’re not her assigned nurse, and she isn’t familiar with you, which could easily trigger defensive mechanisms from her other personalities."

Rhiannon nodded silently.

She looked at the empty swing set outside the window, her mind replaying Sylvie’s shivering, timid figure when surrounded by the children, and then the fierce gaze of another personality when she looked up and bit.

In one body, there lived eight different people.

Some timid, some fierce, some possibly sad, and some possibly angry... They shared one small body, struggling in a world full of fear and rejection.

Rhiannon suddenly realized how rash and ignorant her words had been when she said she didn’t want to go to the psychiatric ward.

Monster, lunatic—these words were like needles, lightly pricking her heart now.

At dinner time, Rhiannon stood in front of Simon Sterling’s office. The dark wooden door was tightly closed, and no light shone through the crack beneath it.

She raised her hand, her fingers curled. Her arm was suspended in midair, not falling.

She bit her lower lip, hesitation on her face. Should she really knock?

Simon Sterling’s expressionless face flashed before her eyes, as well as his cold gaze and the words he said to her in the cafeteria.

"At least, it won’t let me wear tinted glasses to discriminate against any patient."

Her wrist throbbed slightly—it was the wound from Sylvie’s bite.

Sylvie...the little girl with eight people living inside her body.

Rhiannon’s breathing grew heavier; her fingers slowly lowered to her sides.

She turned, her back to the door. Her shoulders drooped a little.

After a couple of steps, she stopped again.

She remembered Sylvie’s hunched and trembling figure surrounded by those kids, remembered the entirely different eyes full of hostility and fear when she bit.

Rhiannon took a deep breath, turned again to face the door.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.

She raised her hand, her knuckles firm, and knocked.

Knock, knock, knock.

The three clear knocks echoed in the quiet hallway.

After knocking, she quickly withdrew her hand, stood up straight, her heart pounding heavily and fast in her chest.

She stared intently at the door, waiting for a response from inside, or for the door to open.

The hallway was very quiet.

Only her own breathing and the faint hum of machinery from somewhere afar were audible.

No sound came from inside the door.

Rhiannon frowned.

Was he not there?

She listened closely, but indeed, there was no sound.

Unwilling to give up, she raised her hand and knocked three more times, harder this time.

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound was particularly loud in the empty hallway.

Still, there was no response.

Disappointment and a hint of irritation showed on Rhiannon’s face. She looked at the closed door, as if seeing through it to the empty office inside.

She stood for a moment, then finally turned around slowly.

As she was about to leave, footsteps suddenly came from the other end of the hallway, accompanied by a familiar male voice, seemingly on the phone with someone.

"...Yes, I’ll review that assessment report tomorrow morning. The patient’s emotional stability is crucial; the evening’s medication dosage can’t be adjusted casually..."

It was Simon Sterling’s voice.

Rhiannon’s steps immediately froze. She turned swiftly, looking toward the source of the voice.

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