William sat down on the sofa in the sitting room and held his head in his hands. It was all just too much- his young wife gravely injured, his adult daughter a mad murderess, his infant son missing, the cook dead...and all, he assumed, because he thought a vacation on a private island in Casco Bay would be good for them. Back in the city there had been disagreements or squabbles but nothing never like this had happened. How could he have known such an rocky seaside environment would have such an evil influence?

"William," sighed Augusta, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa by him, "I'm sorry. I had no idea Sophia..." she trailed off, not sure if speaking further would make things better or worse.

Dr. Gramheist, however, marched right over to the pair, incidentally unafraid to talk.

"Yes, yes," he remarked, almost pompously throwing himself onto the large chair next to the window, "I should have read my notes more carefully on the boat ride over. It would have been clear Sophia had multiple personalities- one deadly- if I had been more astute. Probably could have saved that poor woman's life if I had stopped Sophia earlier- Jane, was it? Anyway, too late now. Just have to move forward."

Augusta shot the doctor a mean look. "It appears not being astute is among your many flaws, yes," she said.

The doctor didn't flinch. "I know how hard this diagnosis is for families to take. It's fine to lash out at me. I don't mind, I won't take it personal. Do what you need to accept and process."

"Are you positive, doctor?" William asked, slowly lowering his hands, "I may not be an expert in mental health as you are, but your diagnosis came so quickly. Surely there must be a possible alternative condition besides madness-"

"-no, I'm sorry, Mr. Dilly," Gramheist cut the patriach off, "it pains me to say this, but if Sophia has already progressed to murder but claims convincingly that she has no memory of it than she must be quite mad- and a danger to us all. A pity, really, for such a beautiful young thing to just snap but in these stressful modern times it's happening more and more."

"So then...what do we do?"

"Well," the doctor sighed, "I assume your poor grieving butler upstairs is going to wish some form of justice for his poor wife. The chap seems reasonable, though, so I'm sure you and him can work out a monetary compensation that will be sufficient and this killing never get out to the public. I know I too can easily be persuaded to say nothing for a proper sum."

"Talking about bribes at a terrible moment like this," muttered Augusta, disgusted, "have you no tact?"

Dr. Gramheist either didn't hear her or ignored her. He continued: "As for treatment for Sophia, well, this Sealman personality she has developed seems a dark character indeed. As we all saw, it quickly became capable of violence, first with what happened to your wife and now with the dead woman. I suppose some doctors would recommend the asylum for her, but as a well-seasoned provider for people of your status, the asylum would just have a press coverage field day with such a prominent man's daughter as their patient."

His eyes fell on the black case he had left in the room upon arrival earlier.

"I did bring my tools, however. I recommend a partial lobotomy. Less scandal and she'll be as good as new, minus some perhaps of her personality. Well, most of her personality, really. But if the Sealman persona is really so aggressive, making your daughter docile perhaps is the only safe move."

"But my son..." William asked.

"Hmm?"

"My son is missing..."

"Surely if Sophia was responsible for the terrible scene upstairs she also took baby Horace somewhere," said Augusta, trying to spell it out for the doctor. "If we lobotomize her- something I really don't believe she needs- how can she tell us where she's taken the baby?"

"Madam," Dr. Gramheist shook his head, "do you not see? The baby is a lost cause. Surely if Sophia attacked the cook in such a vicious manner she has likewise done unspeakable things to the infant-"

The mention of his son's possible fate made even the stoic William start to sob. He returned his head into his hands, while Augusta did her best to comfort.

"No, William! Don't cry!" She exclaimed, "you know Sophia is gentle. She may not be a fan of baby Horace, but she'd never hurt him-"

"-Sophia is gentle," Dr. Gramheist remarked matter-of-factly, "the Sealman is not. One body, two personalities. I'm sorry to point it out, but your son surely is gone from this world by now."

"William..." Augusta once again shot a glare at Dr. Gramheist. The man's bedside manner was hardly one of compassion or optimism.

Suddenly, Albert rushed into the room. He was alone, but carrying a long light violet ribbon in his hands.

"Oh, Albert," his mother cried out, "I heard you were following after Sophia! How is she?" She paused a moment to look around. "Where is she?'

"I...I..." Albert stuttered, just turning the ribbon over and over in his hands.

"Out with it, then," strictly said Dr. Gramheist.

"I...I don't know," the young man finally answered. "It was rather dark and I could hardly see where I was going. I'dve nearly stepped off cliff edge were it not for the slight reflection of the moon bouncing off the ocean to provide dim lighting. I...I looked all around but didn't find Sophia. Only this ribbon that I...I remember being tied around the waist of the lovely gown she was wearing..."

"Well, then we do know where she is," replied Gramheist.

"We do?" Augusta inquired.

"Be it by accident or on purpose, Sophia no doubt has fallen to her death off those tall cliffs I saw when I arrived this island earlier."

"What?!" Augusta and Albert cried in unison. William just further sobbed into his hands."

"They did look quite imposing, the cliffs. But what a pity- I consider myself quite a good lobotomist. I was looking forward to the surgery- now I suppose there's no need." The doctor casually rose to his feet, heading back towards the dining room area.

"I must say all this excitement has worked up my appetite," he said without much concern for the horrified and shattered looks on the faces of his companions, "it probably has gotten quite cold by now but I think I'll finish my dinner if anyone else would like to join me."

No one did.