They all troop back in a few minutes later and sit down in the same positions.

I have experienced, it would appear, a moderate to severe juvenile migraine resulting in temporary spontaneous confabulation as a result of exposure to unsafe and possibly untested TDCS.

“Of course you’re not lying,” says Mimi, although I don’t like her tone of voice. It sounds like she means the opposite. “Confabulation is a medical term: you really believe these things are true.”

I want to say “They are true!” but Mimi is still talking.

“This, Georgie, is potentially quite a serious matter.” Her voice gets even quieter as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation. “Not medically, I mean. I’m referring rather to the incident that triggered your episode. With your parents’ permission, I’ll be asking the police to come and talk to you about your experiences at the Spanish City.”

“Don’t be scared,” says Dad. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been careless, perhaps, but the real fault lies with this ‘Dr. Pretorius.’ ” This time the finger quotes are real.

“Is she in trouble?” I ask.

“It’s difficult to know,” says Mimi. “The police will have a better idea whether there has been an actual crime. At the moment, my main concern is that no one else is forced to endure the pain you went through.”

And even then I’m thinking, I wasn’t exactly forced, but I say nothing.