Convincing You I'm Me

Chapter 25: Sceptical

"So, she turned up at your house two years ago, claiming to live there but didn't mention anything about who she thought she was?" Ebony asks me from across the office. I decided to call in to The Dog's Bone instead of calling her from Jaguar, honestly, this place needs the most help anyway. "What did you do?"

"What could I do?" I say, looking over the pile of spread sheets that Lee printed out for me, I crease them into my hands, sighing. "Put a restraining order on a seven-year-old? Besides, her parents were pretty convinced that she was crazy. I just thought she needed help."

"And this happened the day before we met?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. 

"Mhm. It was weird, but I didn't think it was anything to really worry about. Until today. She was screaming for me when her mother dragged her out of the house."

I stare into the air and Ebony picks up on it. "Do you think there's something going on at home? Like some kind of abuse?"

"I just keep thinking about something that Isla said," I rub my chin. "That I saved Lily. I'm not sure but, it sounded like she was trying to tell me something."

"That she wants you to save her?" she mumbles, placing some folders onto the desk. "I don't know. Just sounds like a very messed up kid to me."

"You're probably right," I say. "Tracey said that there's a chance she'll come back."

"Seriously?"

I nod. "If the best therapist in the country can't help her and her own parents can't control her, then how the hell am I supposed to move on with my life?" I throw the spread sheets across the desk in frustration. 

"Maybe her mother was right," Ebony says. "Maybe she's psychic."

I widen my eyes at her.

"What?" she says, with an amused grin. "You don't believe in that stuff?"

"No," I say. "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!" I choke out, laughing towards the wall. "And even if she was psychic, then she'd be talking to the spirits, or whatever. She wouldn't believe she was one."

"She might be too young to differentiate," she says. "Trust me, in a few years, she'll have forgotten all about you."

"I didn't take you for the kind that had such an open mind." I cross my arms. 

She glances at me and sadness fills her eyes. "I visited a Clairvoyant once. After Peter died."

"Oh." I say. 

"A friend of mine recommended it. She said that it helped her when her Dad died, so I decided to give it a try. And to say I was a skeptic is an understatement. I expected to sit through an hour of mumbo-jumbo and get my future foretold. But. . . what I actually experienced, oh God, it still gives me the chills."

"What happened?"

"The woman didn't know anything about me before the session. When I arranged the appointment, they just gave me a number. When I met her, she shook my hand and told me my name. That right there made my body freeze. Then she told me to take a seat at this wooden round table and she lit a candle in the middle of it. I still remember the smell, it was a scented candle, it smelt like really strong soap. I took a seat, she introduced herself, told me to relax and then took my hand. And then she asked me if I had come to speak to Peter."

I frown. "I take it you were freaking out by this point?"

"Hell yes," she says, she looks up at me and swallows. "I told her yes and she closed her eyes and started mumbling to herself. Then she flicked them open wide, making me jump and said that Peter wanted to tell me some things. She recalled memories that I'd never even told anyone, the things she said to me, sounded like they came directly from Peter's mouth, like he was standing right there next to her. I was in tears by this point, she had reduced me to a wreck. She spoke about Cassie and how Peter watched her win the science fair. How proud he was. After all of that, I wasn't a skeptic anymore. Honestly, if you had heard what I heard and felt what I felt. . . you'd believe in it too."

"But did it help?"

"Yeah," she says. "At the end of the session she told me my future. She said that I'd meet someone called Jack and I did. We dated for a year but, well, you know the story. She told me that I'd work in a bar and Cassie would graduate from high school with straight As, which she did. Everything she told me has pretty much come true."

"Except, she didn't mention anything about me?"

"No," she says quietly and then smiles. "I guess they don't know everything."

"When was this?" 

"Huh?"

"When did you see her?"

She blinks at me. "Uh. . . it was about a year after Peter died. So. . . nine years ago. Why?"

"Nine years," I mumble. "What date?"

"I don't know," she says, blinking as she thinks. "February something."

"February," I whisper. "The month after Lily died."

"What has that got to do with...?"

"It doesn't matter," I say quickly, shaking it from my mind. "Forget it. I've got some errands to run, I'll see you at home later."

I grab my coat from behind a chair and I pull it around my body as I leave the office, scattering my numb self down the hallway. She'll be mad at me for that, but at the moment there's something else on my mind. 

I just can't get Isla's words out of my head. She almost died once before and you saved her. You gave up your dreams that day.

There's only a select few alive on this Earth that know that. That know what happened that day. That tragic, unforgettable day. The kids don't even know about it.

It was the day that everything changed. The day my entire career was blown to pieces. 

The day her life was literally more important to me than anything.