“Shh!” said Lynn. ‘Can’t you feel it?”
So the air in here didn’t vibrate just for Faith. That was a relief. Perhaps the best thing about having sisters was this sense of communion, of not being wholly alone in her abilities.
Like the ugly duckling realizing it really was a swan, after all. In Faith’s case, and Dawn’s, and Lynn’s, they were genetically enhanced swans, but that still counted, right?
“Don’t mind me,” murmured Celeste, her dark eyes half closed and unfocused. The sisters shut up. Celeste’s lips curved in a smile. She was used to people masking their uncertainties with humor. And Dawn in particular was uncertain about this.
But Faith’s sisters were only going to be in New Orleans another day. Shouldn’t they at least give this a try?
The medium’s expression turned solemn. “Talk to me, spirits,” she whispered, her hands spread. “I’m looking for a mother, these ladies’ mother, who never knew—”
She sat bolt upright, eyes closed.
The sisters tensed. Faith could hear it in their pulses, feel it off their body temperature, both of which created a strange harmony against the slower heartbeat and more shallow breathing of Celeste in her trance state. More important, Faith could feel…
Something. Someone. Between the sisters and Celeste.
“There’s a woman here,” murmured the medium. “A beautiful redheaded woman. I’m hearing an R, seeing rainfall…she says it’s her name. Do you know someone called…?”
“Rainy,” breathed Lynn.
“She says you’re her daughters. She says of course she knows you, now. How can…?”
“It’s a long story.” Faith searched the seemingly rich, intense air before them, seeking that sense of presence. How she would have loved to meet Lorraine Miller Carrington in life. She was certain her sisters felt the same. But maybe…“We’re so sorry we never knew her. We’re so sorry for what happened to her. We—”
“She’s happy,” insisted Celeste.
Lynn, beside Faith, caught a sharp breath of surprise. Lynn believed this was happening, too.
“She was murdered,” protested Dawn, clearly less willing to suspend her disbelief.
Celeste was swaying now, her voice a weaving of husky truths. “Everyone dies, baby. She says it’s not like she went anywhere. She’s so happy for everyone she loves, having the strength to go on with their lives. She’s…the woman’s laughing, saying names so fast I can hardly keep them straight. Darcy and Alex and Kayla. Tory and Sam and Josie. They kept their promise. She’s calling them your aunts, says she’s living through them as much as through you three, and that you’d better all get together.”
“We will,” said Lynn. “Of course we will.”
“She’s calling your aunts…” Celeste’s eyes opened with surprise. “Cassandras.”
Faith nodded. “I didn’t know that, when I chose the name.”
“Rainy thinks you did.” Celeste’s eyes closed again. “Where it counts. She says you three are Cassandras, too. She is so proud of you, so very proud….”
“But we haven’t done anything.” That was Dawn, but this time her challenge sounded more poignant. She might not want to believe this, but she was beginning to believe, all the same.
“You’re the one she wants to hug the most,” announced Celeste, turning to Dawn. “The others…Rainy says they’ve been getting some hugging. That makes her happy, too. But you haven’t yet. You deserve some. She says you’ve all done more than any mother could expect. If you do nothing else, ever, she couldn’t be more proud of the three of you. But you will do more. It’s in your blood.”
Lynn sat up. “Does she know who our father is?”
Faith held her breath. Was it Thomas King?
“She says even he doesn’t know it, yet. But stick together, and you’ll find him. Does that make sense? That seems to be what your mother’s most concerned about. She wants to be sure you three won’t forget each other, that you’ll meet with your aunts, that you won’t lose touch with the people who love you. Losing touch…that’s the only thing that makes this woman sad.”
Faith looked at her sisters, one to either side of her.
She held out her hands.
Lynn’s hand closed around hers first. Again, Faith got a rush of sensations—computer. Craftiness. Someone waiting back home. Possibilities.
Faith was better able to channel the impressions, now. Instead of it feeling like an assault, it became a bond. This was her sister. They should know each other.
Dawn hesitated a moment longer. Then, almost grudgingly, she caught Faith’s hand in a strong grip. Fighting. Training. Things to do. Loneliness.
Longing….
She caught Lynn’s hand as well, so that the three of them were truly connected.
“It’s a promise,” said Faith.
“A promise,” repeated Lynn.
Dawn only hesitated a moment. “A promise.”
Faith watched a tear of happiness slide from Celeste’s closed eyes—and knew the tear did not belong to Celeste.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Evelyn Vaughn
Evelyn began writing stories as soon as she was able to hold a fat pencil and spell out words. She’s been at it ever since.
Fourth in a family of five children, Evelyn has lived in Virginia, Illinois, Arizona, Louisiana and finally Texas. She currently lives in Texas with her 17-year-old, one-eyed cat and her sweet-tempered cocker spaniel. She recently bought a house with a great yard, largely for the cocker spaniel, but she loves it, too.
In her alternate life, she teaches writing and literature at Tarrant County College in the Dallas Fort Worth Metroplex.
Contact Page 26