Sitting on Katy’s bed, I said, “Hey, tell me about the pretty ghost girl. What’s she like? What did she say?”
My sister proceeded to describe Nadia in fine detail right down to the British accent. The message to Katy consisted of vague reassurances that I was bravely fighting bad guys and would return to her as soon as possible.
I silently thanked Nadia for taking the time to soothe my little sister.
“Is the girl real?”
My sister’s question grabbed my wandering attention. I considered denying it, but Katy deserved honesty.
“Yes, she’s real. Her name is Nadia. She’s one of Jillian’s sisters.”
“I like that name,” said Katy.
“I do, too, but you need to keep her existence a secret.”
“Why’s that?” A large yawn accompanied the query.
Kissing Katy on the cheek, I explained, “Because she doesn’t speak with everybody, and those who can’t hear her won’t believe you anyway.”
Katy caught my hand as I climbed off her bed.
“Danielle?”
“Yeah. I’m here.”
“Don’t go away like that again.”
Katy’s pleading tone made me plop onto her bed once more.
“Mom cried a lot,” my sister added. “We all did.”
Way to stick in a knife and twist it, kid, I thought, wincing at the memory of Evelyn that conjured.
“I’m sorry for everything,” I said, thinking of the Benadryl incident, “but I can’t make any promises on a future that hasn’t happened.” Before Katy could burst into tears, I tightened my hold on the hand she had caught. “If I do go away like that again, close your eyes and ask the ghost girl to find me. I can’t guarantee you’ll get an answer, but she’s pretty good about communicating.”
The response pacified Katy enough to let me apologize a few dozen times, plant a final kiss on her cheek, and escape.
I descended the stairs to level with my parents on a great many things. Dad occupied his usual reading chair while Mom perched on the edge of the couch. Three fresh water bottles were arrayed on coasters before her. Without much fuss, I sat next to Mom and once again went over the last few days even though we’d done this not 24 hours before. I omitted certain details and chose to downplay the violence wherever possible. Somehow the ritual re-telling conjured much needed closure.
Once I’d drained the water bottle and nearly talked myself hoarse rehashing my crummy week, I shifted the conversation.
“You know how I told you Jillian can send people dreams with actual messages in them?” I paused until I got confirmation nods. “Well, her siblings also have some interesting abilities. For example, Nadia can read minds and form visions.” I stopped speaking because the speech was losing the parents.
Mom recovered first and murmured, “Katy’s ghost girl.”
“She’s not a ghost.” I spent quite a while trying to explain Nadia before the conversation spilled over to Varick.
“What’s going on with you two?” asked Mom. “Are you more than friends?”
Dad and I stared at Mom with stunned expressions. I scrambled to figure out what had tipped Mom off. I’d mentioned Varick in passing over the last few weeks, but I couldn’t recall anything specifically incriminating. Dad’s gaze locked on me.
My cheeks burned until I decided that after all I’d just been through, this should be easy. Forcing my shoulders to relax, I shrugged, and said, “I really like Varick. He’s got a man’s body, a child’s innocence, a saint’s honesty, and a powerful protective streak.” I didn’t leave it at that, but you’ve probably already heard everything I explained to my parents.
“I want to meet him,” Dad declared when I had finished.
“You have met him, Craig,” Mom reminded. “He’s picked up Isaac and Michio for the Blairingtons several times, and he talked to us when Danielle disappeared.”
“This is different. I need to have a man-to-man conversation with him about dating our daughter.” Dad’s voice was clipped.
Amusement and horror hit me in the gut, but Mom simply rose, went to Dad, and kissed his hair.
“Yes, dear. You do that.”
Deciding it was a decent note to end the evening on, I gathered the empty water bottles and went to the kitchen to throw them in the recycling bin. Upon returning to say my farewells and head upstairs, I met my parents standing shoulder to shoulder.
Even though I’d spent much of the night curled up in Mom’s arms, she swept me into another hug.
“We’re glad you’re back, sweetheart.”
That was a better way to end the night.
I would have been asleep long ago if I didn’t keep worrying about Jillian. Writing to you has helped, but I almost wish I could go with her to Devya’s new lair.
Suddenly, I understand some of the distress soldier and cop spouses must feel. It’s hard to wait and wonder. When I conquer concern for Jillian, fear for Nadia or Varick springs into place. I’m going to need some serious stress management tips in the next few weeks. The idea of returning to college seems dull. I might even finish the semester without a death threat now that Tyra’s headed to England.
The thought of Tyra summons Ethan to mind, and I realize Jillian’s dysfunctional family has grown by two. I’m surprised to feel mostly pity and concern rather than fear, anger, or bitterness. It helps to know their homicidal tendencies are due mainly to chemical imbalance. Still, they’ve got emotional continents to cover before I’ll ever walk into a dark alley with them.
The One Who Loves All of Devya’s Children (Even the Crazy Ones),
Danielle Matheson.
Chapter 43:
I Ain’t Afraid
ITEM 228: Allison’s fifth letter to Dr. Sokolowski
Item Source: Allison Blairington
Dear Dr. S.,
I am doing the typing today ’cause my Jeffrey has his hands full wrestling the boys, our boys. Jeffrey’s been piping suggestions of things I ought to tell ya all morning so you can take this letter as being from the both of us. It ain’t official on paper or nothing, but Michio called me momma yesterday and that’s all the official I need.
Even as I gain a son, I feel like I’m losing my daughter. She came to me in a dream just the other night. You are probably one of the only people in the world who understand my meaning. Of the hardest things I have ever done, telling my Jillian she couldn’t come home ranks right at the top. The news crushed something in her and hardened something in me. As she cried in my arms, I became more convinced my decision to keep her away was right. Men watch us, waiting for her. I will not lose her like that again.
My anger has shifted once more. I must be bent on sampling every flavor of that emotion. This time, the anger is like a blacksmith’s fire burning impurities from a chunk of metal. It rages high, making me want to march out to those men and send ’em packing, but Varick and Jeffrey urge patience for our boys’ sake. Momma could tell ya I don’t do patience well, but even she says I ought to not provoke the men.
If they come after my boys, you won’t be hearing from me ’cause I’ll be dead. I ain’t afraid to die. Sometimes I think I’d welcome the rest, but Jeffrey and Momma don’t like to hear such talk so I’ll move on.
The chats with you, Malia, and God have resulted in something new: I ain’t afraid. There are still many things to fear, but I will not allow that fear to be my waking shadow.
My boys need my love and attention, even Jeffrey and TJ, and I must be strong for Jillian. I am mighty proud of that girl. I don’t have to hear what she’s gone through recently to know my feelings stand justified. That too is a recent change in my outlook. I ain’t saying I have found perfect peace quite yet, but I’m getting there—we’re getting there.
I have also started talking more with Lisa Matheson. Danielle’s given that woman as many frayed nerves as Jillian has bestowed upon me. I think sharing some of the worry has helped both of us. In any case, I am glad to gain a friend who unde
rstands what I’m going through at the intimate level of shared experience.
Thank you for insisting I meet with ya the other day. I was at a very low point. I would like to begin paying for the sessions, and I will ask Lisa about your suggestion on a few joint sessions. Varick has been more than generous in providing for Michio. At first, we were very uncomfortable accepting the aid, but we are slowly coming to see that pride and parenting don’t pair well together. It is very humbling to know we ain’t always in control.
You are a blessed support to us, and we are ever grateful for your friendship and wisdom.
Sincerely,
Allison and Jeffrey
Chapter 44:
Clear Future
ITEM 229: Danielle’s sixty-seventh letter
Item Source: Danielle Matheson
Dear Dr. S.,
It feels odd to actually be typing an email after so long relying upon Malia’s thought capturing program. Karen kept my iPad plugged in all week. I appreciate your detailed response to each frantic letter. Please accept this as my collective reply.
I’m back at college and in my dorm after a pretty long day of creatively explaining my week to campus police, local police, and school officials in a series of uncomfortable meetings. Do I feel guilty for lying? Yes and no. As with the original incident, there are details the general public should not know. Varick agreed to be part of my cover story, and Nadia worked a word miracle so that I came across as insensitive and mildly foolish rather than criminally dumb. Since Katy was involved, we had to work in Ethan’s kidnapping, too, but I think we managed to pass it off as a lover’s quarrel.
The Benadryl stunt was tougher to explain. I have never earned so many disapproving stares and mini-lectures at once. Only knowledge that my parents finally understood my motives allowed me to endure. Compared to the difficulty of trying to ease my parents, the conference with the school officials was positively easy.
When the glow of my homecoming faded, I got grilled thoroughly by the parental unit about leaving my sister in such a state. I winced when they brought it up because I’d originally failed to mention the poisoned necklace. I know it’s a pretty big point to skip, but I didn’t want to watch what the knowledge would do to their emotions. I hate drama.
Karen knows the full story, too. You can’t live with somebody and not share secrets of that magnitude. She shared more about her own traumatic experiences and explained how Malia fit in.
Nadia finally cleared up the impression of foresight in arranging for Karen and me to be roommates. She connected us because of the close proximity between where Malia’s new family lives in Fairview, Pennsylvania and Karen’s hometown of Edinboro, PA. I think there may also be a work connection between Karen’s mother and Mrs. Davidson—Malia’s new mother, if you’re keeping score.
A short dream from Jillian tells me she’s not quite settled in at Devya’s new compound, but they made it there safely. Thankfully, Nadia gave a more detailed report. She proposed I start my work with her now as opposed to waiting until the summer. I accepted the suggestion but asked her to go easy on me. Sharing brain-space with somebody is not exactly natural.
We won’t leap into the human trafficking brawl this instant as we’re simply working on our communication. That said, Nadia was correct in saying, “Human trafficking is not the only ill in need of righting, and there are countless other opportunities to bring light, life, and laughter to those who desperately need such a timely blessing.” I’d better be careful if I don’t want to end up sounding exactly like Nadia. Love the girl, but her way of speaking is uniquely her.
I haven’t heard from Varick yet today, but I’ll give him a few more hours before having Nadia deliver a mental kick to call me. For all the weirdness I have to endure due to that link, I may as well gain a few perks.
I’ve decided to stay a psychology major and specialize in counseling. I’m going to pair it with minors in journalism and communications in the hopes that the training will teach me about seeking and telling true stories. People are endlessly fascinating, but discovering their triumphs and trials is only the first step. Our conversations have shown me that the best help comes through relationships.
The Psych Major,
Danielle Matheson.
Chapter 45:
Two Hearts are Won, Two Await Healing
ITEM 230: Jillian’s 114th post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
Three nights after moving into the new lab, Nadia sent me an invitation to join her in a dream. The fancy scroll appeared in my mind as I entered the room we share. She insisted I take the lower bunk ’cause I occasionally roll while working, and she didn’t want me tumbling to the floor from up top. I glanced curiously at her ’cause even from where I stood I could tell she was awake. The hesitation prompted thick black letters to form on the scroll: OPEN ME.
Shrugging, I settled into a comfortable position on my bed, closed my eyes, and let the scroll unfold. I laughed ’cause the top section was filled with impressive words in pretty script while the bottom simply read:
She means you are invited to the celebration tonight.
~Naidine
I didn’t need to use my Gift to fall asleep. As soon as I took a few relaxing breaths, I found myself in Nadia’s dream. I expected to show up in the throne room, but instead, I appeared on a deck overlooking the beautiful lake from the memory I’d pulled from my Second Momma. A wave of unease passed through my avatar like something was drawing it away. I turned and embraced Malia.
“This place is too wonderful to confine to a dark memory,” said Nadia, appearing next to us.
We made her part of our hug. Nadia still felt the sort of skinny Maisha would fuss about, but at least she didn’t look like she’d been fed on nutrient drips for about a month.
When we broke apart, Nadia said, “I considered inviting others, but I thought you might prefer a private time to share your concerns.”
“You’re frustrated,” Malia pointed out when I didn’t answer right away.
“Before we delve deeply into Jillian’s concerns, would either of you like a spot of tea?” At Nadia’s gesture, a large, round patio table loaded with tea and snack foods appeared on the deck’s right side. “Tea Time insists that cinnamon apple spice perfectly complements the temperatures common to this time of year.”
“Ya could just change the weather,” I noted, making it snow for a few seconds to illustrate my point.
“Fall is Nadia’s favorite time of year.” Malia’s statement made me a mite sad ’cause it showed how much I still didn’t know about my siblings.
“Look at the colors,” Nadia urged, waving to the view of sparkly water and sunbathed mountains clothed in bright yellow and deep green trees.
On a whim, I shaped the dream so that more of the trees turned red and orange. Nadia smiled at the change, poured some tea, and handed a steaming cup to each of us. As the scent of warm cinnamon filled me, I decided Tea Time knew exactly the right tea to lift my mood. We spent a few dream minutes enjoying the tea and the view from the wooden chairs that came with the patio table. The tall deck railing got in the way, so I lowered it until we could see over the top. Since that looked silly, I redesigned the deck without a railing.
Eventually, Nadia steered our talk to a serious track.
“We are here for you as long as you need us, Jillian. Make your burden lighter by telling us what weighs upon you.”
I wondered why Nadia didn’t simply peek into my head and read the concerns, but Malia’s next statement explained.
“Talking things through is good for you.”
Of the dozens of questions and concerns tugging my spirit low, I selected the most general to air first.
“What was it for? Why did he take us? What did he want? Why were the experiments so dangerous? Danielle or Cora coulda died.” My breaths came faster as I tried to contain the frustration.
Setting aside her half-finished tea, Malia touch
ed my right arm and eased the emotions. She didn’t make ’em go away, but she changed enough so they became easier to bear.
“Dr. Lanier could never be like Father, so he had to be better somehow,” Nadia explained. “In his mind, controlling us would prove that his work had value. I think his failure with Ethan and Tyra wounded his confidence.”
“How did he fail ’em?”
“They have similar Gifts to Varick but a very hard time accessing them.” Nadia sounded reluctant to part with the news. “The only way Dr. Lanier could enhance their attributes was to give them chemical supplements and growth hormones. Unfortunately, the combination was detrimental to their mental health. That is what Dr. Robinson and Dr. Paladon hope to correct.”
I thought about the attack my Second Momma suffered and shuddered.
“Take heart, Jillian,” Malia urged. “Some good came of her pain and the situation with Dr. Lanier.”
“I don’t see it,” I said.
“Two hearts are won and two more await healing,” Nadia intoned. “That is the good that came out of these events.” Getting only a puzzled frown from me, Nadia continued, “Father is much smarter than Dr. Lanier, but his moral compass is in need of a course correction. Witnessing and experiencing Dr. Lanier’s harsh treatment helped Cora and Dr. Carnasis finally break free of Father’s influence. They have accepted a mission from me that should carry them far from the coming conflict.”
“You sent ’em away to be safe,” I said.
“That’s half of it,” Malia confirmed, waving for Nadia to continue.
“The other half is because of Cora.”
“What’s so important about Cora?” As soon as the question exited my lips, another flashed to mind. “Why did ya write her into Varick’s game?”
My sisters exchanged looks I couldn’t quite read.
Nadia wore her I-am-about-to-confess-something face.
“I knew Varick wanted his quest to focus on me, but for the reasons I have previously listed, that is impossible for now.”
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