I could tell that no one really wanted to believe that story, but they had no choice. Like the truth would have made any more sense—the truth is what would have gotten me in trouble. At least with this version, an external and mildly believable circumstance brought on the psychosis. Plus, it was hard to argue with it when I was sitting there in the examining room, forming complete sentences, wholly lucid, acting like myself.
And Maximus, well, he didn’t turn on me like I thought he would. He backed up Ada’s story and even interjected some observations such as, “I knew there was something physically wrong with her. I just wasn’t sure what, and hearing about Perry’s history, I jumped to the wrong conclusion.” A total lie, but one I appreciated. It didn’t mean I didn’t want to kick the ginger right in his freckled balls.
And so I left the hospital with a clean bill of health. Dr. Freedman seemed disappointed. It was like he wanted me to be sick. It didn’t help that I caught him pulling my mother aside and telling her to watch me very carefully. I had a feeling that he didn’t mean for today, or the next few days, or the next few weeks.
He meant for the rest of my life.
My thoughts drifted over to Pippa. My grandmother. It would take me a long time to come to terms with that, even though deep in my soul I knew we were related. Maybe in some ways, I always knew. Maybe I had seen her in my childhood. Maybe you could feel yourself in someone’s blood.
It broke my heart to learn what my mother had done to her. Though I wasn’t a parent, I still couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have your daughter put you away, to condemn you to a horrible life, to a certain lonely death. It made waves of nausea simmer in my belly.
I looked over at my mom, keeping my actions subtle. She was still staring out the window and so I couldn’t see her face. That was just as well. I didn’t think I could ever look her in the eyes again, knowing everything that I knew now. I wasn’t sure how I’d even survive in the house with her watching my every move for the rest of my life, waiting for me to screw up. I had no reason, really, to believe my mom would act the same way with me as she had with Pippa—my grandmother—but …
My mother always acted as if she was scared of me. I now understood why, to watch the signs of “mental illness” creeping up in your daughter, knowing what might lie ahead. But now, everything had changed. She was afraid of me and I was afraid of her.
“Afraid of her?” Ada asked.
I jumped in my seat and turned to see everyone in the car looking at Ada, including my mother. I quickly averted my eyes from hers to Ada’s questioning face.
“Did…I just say something out loud?” I asked, my heart tight. I hoped to God I wasn’t babbling on about my mother. That really wouldn’t have helped.
But while Ada said, “Yes,” everyone else in the car said, “No.”
Oh, great, now she was acting loony too.
She raised her brows at me and a flash of fear sparked in her eyes. I stared right back, willing her to not say anything else.
Finally, Maximus laughed awkwardly. “I reckon it’s been a long day for everyone, myself included.”
My mom smiled gratefully at him, then shot her daughters a suspicious look, and turned back in her seat.
No one said anything for the rest of the ride.
~~~
A knock at my door roused me out of my dreamless sleep.
“Come in,” I groaned, hoping it was someone I wanted to see, which nowadays meant Ada.
It was. She poked her blonde head in my room and squinted at the darkness.
“Sorry to wake you,” she said as she came in and gently closed the door behind her. She flicked on the lights.
“Arrrrrgh,” I moaned, throwing my arm over my eyes. “Thanks a lot. What time is it?”
“It’s almost ten, lazybones,” she said. I felt her come over and sit on the side of my bed.
“In the morning?”
“No, at night.”
“Then why are you waking me up? Can’t a girl sleep?” I mumbled. “I survived an exorcism, you know.”
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” she said lowering her voice.
I took my arm off my face and blinked at her. She looked as serious as anything.
“OK, what is it?” I whispered. An exorcism was the last thing we wanted to get caught talking about. I was so paranoid now, and apparently so was she.
“I…I don’t know what happened to you when you were…gone,” she said. She looked very small and scared. “But it hurt. It was…so terrifying. I didn’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Oh, Ada,” I told her, sitting up. “I’m fine. I came back.”
“Did you?” she asked. “You seem different.”
I bit my lip. “Well, I feel different. Not in a bad way, but I do. I don’t know what Roman did to me.”
“You went somewhere…”
I examined her face carefully. Had I talked to her about Pippa, about what I saw in the Thin Veil? I didn’t think so. At least, I didn’t remember.
“Somewhere?” I asked.
“I know about our grandmother,” she said deliberately. “Pippa. I know what happened to her.”
My eyes widened, the breath leaving me. “How…did I tell you?”
She smiled, lips tight and closed. “Sort of. I don’t know what’s going on Perry but…OK, this is going to sound really freaking weird but from time to time, I’m, like…hearing your thoughts.”
That threw me for a loop. I almost laughed then I remembered her bizarre question in the car. But…that was impossible.
I looked at her even closer, wondering if she was f**king with me. Not that she would, but there was no explanation that I could grasp. What, I suddenly became telepathic? How come I couldn’t hear anyone else’s thoughts?
She watched me for a few beats and I asked, “All righty, if that’s true, did you hear what I was thinking just now.”
She shook her head.
How about now? I asked internally, projecting my thoughts onto her with all the concentration my poor brain could muster.
“Yeah, I heard that one,” she exclaimed quietly, her smile broadening with wonder.
I matched her smile in wattage. This…I couldn’t even begin to fathom this discovery. It was like waking up and finding out you had super powers.