“That’s not intense at all.” She leaned forward and eyed the crystal. “But that’s beautiful. Why was he so freaked out?”
I dropped the crystal without looking at it. In fact, I still had no idea what it looked like, I wasn’t ready to see it, so I tucked it back in my sweater and cleared my throat. “This spirit, Elizabeth, she said my name. She said you know me, Saraphina Proctor. And I had not told the psychic my name, I hadn’t told anyone in the store my name. Then she told me all this stuff about these people who were coming for me—”
“What people?”
“The Star card. The King of Swords—” which may or may not be Riah. And that’s what we should be discussing but apparently I’m avoiding it, “The Empress is going to save me. The Emperor and High Priestess are going to bring my memories back – oh and someone named Tegan is apparently already working on helping me. Whoever that is and whatever that means.”
Dr. Troy pursed her lips and tapped on her chin. “Okay, so all those cards represent strength and power. They’re good cards. So whoever they are, they should bring good things with them. I mean, I know talking to the dead is freaky, but it sounds positive.”
“It was…and it wasn’t.” I bit my bottom lip and replayed the final moments. “Until she gave me this ominous poem and said it’s time.”
“Oh, what did it say??”
The piece of paper was in my pocket but I didn’t need to look at it. The words were burned into my retinas. I shuddered. “When the Angel of Tides rings his drum, Beware the time has finally come. Sides of fate must be chosen, For the bonds of peace are unwoven.”
She gasped and sat up straight.
I nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Well…” She took a deep breath. “I want to tell you that I know what that means, but I can’t. All I can say is not to let it weigh you down. Maybe it’s from an old book or something that holds significance to you and when your memories come back you’ll discover this wasn’t ominous at all.”
My breath left me in a rush. “Oh. Huh. I hadn’t even thought of it that way.”
“For all we know it’s from Robert Frost or Edgar Allen Poe,” she said with a giggle.
I laughed with her and pushed my hair back out of my face. “Won’t I feel silly then.”
She sobered and shook her head. “Do not feel silly. Be cautious and keep your eyes open, just don’t let fear consume you. There are too many unknowns for you right now.”
Riah’s face flashed in my mind. He was a major unknown for me, one that was driving me crazy. I frowned and shook my head.
“What?” She leaned forward to catch my gaze. “What are you thinking?”
Just tell her. “Well…so…okay, so you remember how I thought a guy was following me that night?”
“Of course.” She frowned. “Have you seen him again?”
“No…but…yes.” I sighed and balled my hands into fists. “I keep thinking I see him, but like in weird ways. Like I looked through a camera lens and saw him but then he wasn’t there when I put the camera down. Or when I looked through a hole in a stone, or out of the corner of my eye. But never like straight on. Never in my actual line of sight with my actual eyes.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You suffered a traumatic event that gave you amnesia. Your mind is struggling and working overtime, that has side effects. It’s possible that your subconscious has latched on to this image and is using it as a visual representation of stress.”
My face fell. “As in…maybe I’m just hallucinating? That he’s not really there when I think I see him?”
“Well, what would be the alternative? That he’s magically vanishing before your eyes?”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I hated that part of me had considered that possibility, but hearing her say it out loud made it sound ridiculous. Her explanation was logical and just made so much sense. Hell, my own story hadn’t made much sense. No human being could do the things I’d said he’d done. No one could move that fast.
And then I’d seen him at school. I’d seen his face in the daylight. I’d seen him mingle with other students. I’d seen him in my class. My friends knew who he was. And then he’d saved my life and came to my rescue another time.
“Try not to be too hard on yourself,” she said softly. “Sometimes the more you fixate on it, the more you see it. Make note of it whenever you see him. Write down where you are, how you see him, what you’re feeling when it happens, then we’ll revisit and dissect what’s causing it.”
“Okay.” I nodded and licked my lips. “Okay, I can do that. Make notes.”
Maybe it won’t happen again now that I’ve talked to him.
And if it does…I’ll say something.
To him.
He came to my house to check on me, I can approach him now.
You hear that, Riah? I won’t let you have this power over me anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Saffie
The restroom is right out in the hall, they said.
You can’t miss it, they said.
Well I missed it. And now I was lost. Which didn’t make a lick of sense because I had found a restroom successfully once, yet there I was standing in the middle of a hallway not knowing where to go. It was only my second day at school – and it was Monday, so it wasn’t even my second consecutive day at school. My first day I’d been too nervous and overwhelmed so I evidently hadn’t paid any attention to the school geography.
Not after today, though. I WILL learn this map. After a weekend with Savannah and Gigi I felt confident enough to venture out on my own to the restroom. It’s okay. I’ll find my way back. I just need to ask someone for directions.
Just then a classroom door to my left flew open and a tall, lanky boy stumbled out.
I gasped and hurried toward him. “Excuse me?”
The boy looked up and stopped short. A grin spread across his face. “Hi. What’s up?”
“Do you know which way to the photography class?”
He opened his mouth then shut it and frowned. “We have photography here?”
I sighed, my hope deflating. “Never mind.”
I scowled but then I noticed a cute little brunette with neon yellow boots had just left the same room he had. She looked up and smiled, then turned to me with confusion in her eyes.
“Hi! Do you know where the photography classroom is?”
Her face scrunched up like she was thinking about it. She shook her head. “No, sorry. I like your outfit, though. So grunge chic.” She waved, then they slipped through a door that led outside.
I didn’t know what grunge chic meant, but I liked the compliment. Grunge chic. What does that mean? Note to self, ask the girls. I looked down at my outfit and frowned. Grunge. Chic. I did not know the definition to either of those words. Yet she’d said it in a positive context, so it must have been a good thing. And I was quite proud of myself today for putting this look together.
Savannah had asked me what my style was, what kind of clothes I liked to wear – what kind of image I had. Naturally, I hadn’t known. Or at least, I couldn’t remember. Savannah had called herself a hipster witch whereas Gigi was girl next door. Apparently there was a name for these things and I needed to figure out what mine was. Except…I didn’t know what I liked.