The next day, I got an email back from Charlie that was less than helpful. He basically told me that he couldn't give me medical advice for Harry because he'd never seen him as his patient. So I dialed his number to talk.

"Okay, just hear me out, please," I said.

"Sure," he answered.

"First of all, if I haven't noticed any symptoms that would require this new medication, Reglan, do you think it's okay if I just don't give it to him?"

"I..." he hesitated.

"Charlie, I'm just asking for advice, okay? I promise I will never mention you in any of this. No one will know I've talked to you and you won't get in trouble for advising someone who isn't your patient. This is friend-to-friend, brother-to-sister, all right?"

"Fine," he said. "Completely off the record."

"Yes," I confirmed. "Absolutely."

"Because you know that if anything happens to him, it's on your head," he said.

"I get it, just tell me what you think," I said impatiently.

"I don't think you should give him the Reglan, both because he hasn't had symptoms and because it has major interactions with Abilify and Thorazine."

"Okay, that seems like a no-brainer, then."

"Also, he's taking several Central Nervous System drugs, which means they act primarily on the central nervous system to control the symptoms. Patients are usually given no more than three of these kinds of drugs at a time. Harry is taking six. And with the Elavil, it would be seven."

"Holy shit."

"No kidding," he said. "So don't give him the Reglan or Elavil, for sure. And cut down his Ambien systematically. I'd say lower it to 5 mg for three nights, then cut the pill in quarters and give him 2.5 mg for four nights. You could try to get it to zero, but he might need it as you lower some of his other meds.. He will probably get some rebound insomnia, but that's normal, okay?"

"Yep, got it."

"After you've reduced the Ambien, I think you should reduce the amount of Thorazine he's taking." And he gave me step by step instruction for cutting back his dosage. "But again, remember that I haven't examined him and I don't know his medical history. But those are changes I think you can make without causing major problems. I honestly don't think it will hurt him to just not add new medications, and Ambien is an addictive sleep aid that should never be used for longer than a few weeks anyway." He paused to catch his breath. "Why is he taking so many damn medications?" Charlie mumbled.

"You're asking me?" I said. "This is why I came to you. His father is either psychotic himself, or he's trying to poison Harry slowly. Or, I have a theory, but it might seem really far-fetched."

"What?"

"What if he's purposely giving Harry drugs that cause stuttering and tics to make it look like he's disabled? I mean, I know that's not all that's involved with disability, but with all these medications that cause confusion, memory loss, agitation, it's possible, right?"

"Well, that does sound like a conspiracy theory," Charlie agreed. "But who knows? People do crazy things sometimes. What's in it for him?"

"That's what I can't figure out. Why doesn't he just let Harry turn 18 and leave if he hates him so much? My only other thought was that maybe he gets some kind of government funds for caring for a 'special needs' kid."

"Again, sounds like a conspiracy theory."

"I know," I whined. "But you don't know Harry. He's amazingly intelligent and very insightful. I've never met a special needs person who is as high-functioning as he is. Hell, he's even higher functioning than some normal people I know!"

Charlie laughed. "Yeah, it sucks. But when he turns 18, he can walk right out of there and never look back. When's his birthday?"

"February," I said. "I hope he can just walk out. Knowing Theodore, he won't be able to, though. This man is messed up."

So we finalized the plan. I would not give Harry the new medications at all, and I would reduce his Ambien over the course of a week. Then, I would gradually lower his dose of Thorazine to an acceptable amount. Charlie had suggested we taper one medication at a time so we could watch for side effects, withdrawal, or symptoms of the illness for which the medication was being prescribed.

"Okay, so if Thorazine is primarily prescribed for psychosis, what kinds of symptoms should I watch for, in case he really does have some disorder?"

"Well, with psychosis, you can see anything from increased anxiety to an actual break with reality, when he can't distinguish between what is real and what isn't. Some concrete symptoms are things like hallucinations, visual or auditory,  delusions, feelings of paranoia like someone is out to get him."

"Okay, those sound easy enough to spot. He's really so easygoing that I think any change will be noticeable."

"Right," he agreed. "But please, please, for the sake of his safety and yours, keep trying to find out whatever you can about his actual medical history. He may truly have some serious disorders that are well-controlled by medication."

"Yeah, of course. I'm working on it. I might, um, try to break into Theodore's office."

"Jules, are you crazy?!" Charlie said in a hoarse whisper, as if someone was going to overhear him. "You're gonna get busted and shipped out of there. You have to be careful."

"I know, but you're not seeing what I'm seeing. Something is not right and I have to help Harry. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Geez," he sighed. "Just be careful. Please."

"Of course I will," I assured him. "And Charlie, please don't mention any of this to Katherina or the rest of my family. They're already worried enough without having to think I'm going to go to prison or something."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" He said with a rueful chuckle. "Just please remember that if something goes wrong, you could be charged with child endangerment. Or worse. Just be careful, kiddo," he reiterated before he ended the call.

After Charlie and I spoke, I told Harry about every medication he was taking and what it was usually used for, and that I'd be trying to cut back on some of them and why. This kid needed to know about his own body and his own care. When I explained the anti-psychotics to him, and what psychosis meant, he laughed in a funny but kind of scared way. "Theodore thinks I'm psychotic?" He asked.

"Not necessarily," I answered. "Those medications can be given for a number of things. But do you ever remember anything like hearing voices or seeing things that weren't really there?"

He thought for a few moments and I could tell he was really searching his memory. "I don't think so," he said. "But sometimes, if I'm really sad, I will pretend I'm not me. Like I'm someone else and I'm just watching  my life to see what happens to me."

"Is that what you did when Theodore said those mean things about you a few weeks ago? When I was in his office?" He shrugged and nodded, kind of like he felt embarrassed. I reached for his hand and hugged it with mine. "Please don't feel bad about that. You were actually using a coping mechanism that some people say is healthy. I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, too," I told him. "Whenever you feel sad or hurt or scared or anything, okay?"

His eyes glassed over and he swallowed thickly, fighting back tears. "I just kind of...." He choked up for a moment and continued. "I thought maybe Theodore finally liked me. You know, after we went on that trip."

Oh, poor Harry. He'd probably spent his life wishing for his father to love him or that his mother was still alive. Those few moments of closeness in Calgary were a cruel trick on Theodore's part, most likely just to try to get me in bed, but Harry took them as a sign that he might actually have a chance at a decent relationship with his father.

"I'm sorry," I said, blinking back my own tears. I reached for him and held him while he sniffled and cried for a bit. I hated that his life had been this messed up.

I began reducing the Ambien right away and I watched Harry like a hawk for any change in his behavior or overall health and I asked him every morning how he felt. He didn't seem too worse for the wear with the first cutback, but after I lowered it to 2.5 mg, he had some insomnia.

One night, he showed up at my bedside and shook my shoulder gently. "Jules, I can't sleep."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I told him. "It's the Ambien. I can give you another 2.5 mg if you'd like."

He shook his head. "I don't want to take it if it's bad for me. But could you...can you please rub my back?"

"Of course," I said. "You want to get in here with me, or would you like me to come to your room?"

He had already removed his t-shirt and was climbing into the other side of my bed. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. He laid on his stomach and I lightly scratched over his smooth, warm skin.

"It feels so nice when you do this on my bare back," he murmured sleepily.

It felt nice for me, too, but I couldn't admit that to him. I could hardly admit it to myself.

I had feelings for Harry.

And not just nanny-child feelings. Grown-up feelings, to put it on his level. But that was maddening because he was a minor and I was his nanny and teacher. It didn't matter to me how many other people blurred those lines on a regular basis, I knew I could get into big legal trouble if I let things become...complicated between us.

It sucked.

When he had finally gone back to sleep, my arm was fatigued but I felt so complete, being here next to him. I scooted as close as I could next to his body heat without actually touching him and wished he were older and things were different.

At the end of August, Harry had recovered from the Ambien reduction and I continued with the anti-psychotics and anti-depressants until they were all at a more acceptable dosage. He didn't seem any worse for the wear. He'd had a few mild headaches and some more insomnia, but I usually counteracted those with Tylenol and back rubs.

Not a single sign of psychosis.

Or any other mental illness for that matter. Or intellectual disability.

What was even more interesting was that it seemed like his tics and stuttering were down to a minimum. I could hardly remember what they'd been like at their worst and I wish I'd taken some video footage just to be able to compare it. He had always been so good at expressing himself that even with the stuttering, I felt like I understood him on a deeper level.

Now, he was speaking almost like an adult, with very few grammatical mistakes and using mature vocabulary. In all honesty, that could very well be because I'd been teaching him to use better grammar and more complex words since I'd arrived, and we talked all the time. I had filled his head with knowledge and understanding that he'd been capable of for years but no one had ever taken the time to teach him.

He was excelling at everything, growing up at an accelerated rate but taking it all in stride. The more I just sat and watched him do whatever he was doing, the more I fell in love with his soul, so good and sweet and untainted.

This was the best-paying job I ever had and probably would ever have but I felt like I'd hardly done anything. I mean, yes, I had done an awful lot to advocate for Harry and to push his education limits, but he was so easy to teach and so easy to love. And that was the part that both frightened me and drove me mad at the same time.

It was mid-September by the time I had adjusted all his medications. I decided to take some videos of Harry working on school work, doing casual things like talking and playing, running and swimming, learning to cook. Even if the tics and stuttering were almost gone, I could still present these possibly as proof that he wasn't disabled after all.

One afternoon, he was reading one of the biographies I had bought for him, so I asked him to read out loud. I held up my camera to record him and he stopped and smiled. "No, Harry, please keep reading."

"Why? Aren't you taking my picture?"

"No, I'm video taping you," I said. He looked confused. " I'm making a movie of you."

I couldn't help but laugh when his jaw dropped open and he looked incredulous. "A movie? Of me?" I could tell he was being cheeky again and he began acting much more exaggerated with everything he did.

"Yes, you goof," I said, laughing even harder. I showed him just that little bit that I had captured. He started laughing hysterically and saying, "I can't believe I'm in a movie."

"Well, it's not the kind of movie that you watch on TV, but maybe some day you could do that, be an actor in a movie. It's pretty hard to do, though. I've never been in a movie," I joked.

"You're pretty enough to be in a movie, Jules," Harry said with every ounce of sincerity he could muster.

"Thank you, Harry. That's very sweet." And stupid me, I actually felt a little flutter in my gut. "Now, keep reading out loud. That's what I want in my movie for now, okay?"

He nodded and resumed reading while I recorded about a minute of it.

At the end of about a week's worth of videos, I combined my clips of Harry's behavior, along with longer segments of Harry talking about his life, his feelings and his aspirations. I asked him to talk about his physical health, if anything hurt or bothered him, if he had any pain or discomfort, and his mental and emotional health, whether or not he felt scared, nervous, anxious, paranoid, or any other out-of-the-ordinary symptoms.

The last step I took was to ask Harry's permission before I sent all the video footage to Charlie to review. I had been keeping him up to date on the medication withdrawal as well.

Finally, I started one more project that would hopefully become the biggest piece of evidence in the fight for Harry's freedom. I began to keep a journal of everything that had happened since I arrived - all the things that made me think that Harry wasn't disabled, all the things he told me about his other nannies and how they treated (or mistreated) him, and about his father's neglect and mistreatment. I also documented Theodore's inappropriate comments and sexual advances, even though I had kissed him willingly; I wanted it on record that he tried to bribe me with sex before he'd give me medical information about Harry. And that, in and of itself - the withholding of information about Harry's history - was suspect to say the very least. And it all went into my journal.

In the midst of it all, Harry continued to learn math, reading, writing, history, and science, and tackling it all like a pro.

* * * * *

I'M ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS STORY!

And yes, I'm aware that Jules should not have sent any video of a minor to another person without his parents' consent. Just keep reading :)