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  My thoughts turned to the incident with Gavyn. Surely, he didn’t mean anything by it, but what was he thinking touching me? I hoped he wasn’t one of those employers that assumed it was okay to ignore personal boundaries.

  No, I couldn’t see him being a creep like that.

  My tired, bare feet praised the soft rug cushioning them, and I mentally shook off the thing with Gavyn. I walked to the mirror and wiped my palm across its misted surface. Reaching back, I tugged on the ribbon holding the mess of hair that hadn’t escaped throughout the day. I combed my fingers through the loose braid, my curls releasing in a veil around my face.

  Leaning over the sink for a closer view, I examined the fatigue induced circles under my eyes. I rubbed my hands over my sleepy face, hoping to rid my skin of the day’s tension. Thankfully, my skin was still supple and, once in a while, I still saw a sparkle in my violet-blue eyes. The streets had not taken all of my youth yet.

  I returned to the tub behind me, spun the knob, and waited for the water gushing out of the faucet to raise to an acceptable level. A shiver crawled over my body as I submerged one leg, then the other, and sat down in the bath. I leaned back into one curved end of the tub, holding my toes under the spray of water on the other end. The smooth porcelain consoled my aching muscles while steam rising up from the water relaxed the tension. When my shoulders were engulfed in warm fluid, I turned the water off.

  There was a small window to my left. I pulled back a corner of the red tweed curtains to gaze up into the sky. The city lights outshined the stars, making it hard to see the beauty of the celestial orbs.

  A chill radiated through the aged, single-pane glass and puckered my naked skin. I let go of the curtain and settled my hand on the side of the tub. The silence was wonderful. No rumbling trucks, no drunken yelling, and no worries about safety. My eyes grew heavy and closed.

  Soon after, the atmosphere changed. It felt charged, like static hanging in the air. A dull vibration traveled through my limbs, and a comfortable heat flooded me. My body tightened. I ignored the strange sensation, convinced I was just tired. Rolling my shoulders, I forced the tension in my muscles to loosen once again, and the peculiar vibe retreated.

  “You need to relax, that’s all,” I whispered to myself.

  A sudden echo of fluttering bounced off the bathroom walls, too loud and vivid for me to ignore. I bolted upright, forcing water to slosh out of the tub and onto the floor. My eyes darted from one corner to another, searching for the source of the noise.

  My stomach rolled, panicking over the instant change in the air.

  I climbed out of the warm water and forced myself to stay calm. Each step was slow and cautious as I listened for signs of movement outside my door.

  Nothing.

  The fluttering stopped.

  Could there be a bird stuck inside?

  The sound was too heavy and forceful, though.

  I tiptoed toward the door, grabbed the towel from the hook on the wall, and wrapped it around me.

  “Stay,” a foreign voice whispered from inside my head when I reached for the doorknob.

  Stunned by the inner voice, I froze just before opening the door. I spun on the balls of my feet and scanned over the empty room again. My fear was replaced with curiosity.

  Suddenly, my vision went black. Images began flashing urgently in my mind like a neon sign flickering on and off in the dark. It distracted me from any ability to think. I whimpered and frantically reached for anything familiar: the sink, the tub, the toilet. My pile of clothes slid to the floor as my hands grabbed for something that would act as my anchor. I strained to see a glimpse of my reality beyond the frenzied pictures taking over my head.

  Finally, I steadied myself against the wall. I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to regain my sight, but all I could see were flashing jumbles of snapshots I couldn’t make sense of. I clutched the cold sink, leaning my pelvis against the edge to keep myself standing, and begged the pictures to go away.

  My skin tingled. An overwhelming ecstasy flushed out the rising fear. I’d never experienced anything so compelling. I wanted more, yet it was too much to handle. Swells of happiness, freedom, and sensuality undulated into me like an ocean quenching its shore.

  My useless eyes rolled back in my head. My body trembled. I moaned uncontrollably as the invisible essence overpowered me. I was in the presence of an entity greater than myself. Something of royalty, of power. It demanded respect, and I wanted to make it happy.

  The urge to bow down and writhe in the beauty of these emotions threatened to drop me to the ground, but the presence held me in place. A gentle pressure kept me lifted from behind. It embraced me, firm and careful.

  I wanted to let my head slump back, but the invisible force cradled it. Darkness and flickering images continued to blind me. A sweet scent, similar to honey and roses, filled my nostrils, pulling me into something of a drug-induced trance. Even though I’d lost control of my senses, my nerves grew calm. My trembling body stilled.

  The pressure controlling my body guided my hand to the mirror. My finger shot out and touched the foggy glass, moving to write a message in the dampness. I was being used as a tool, but the lazy dipping and rising of my arm felt like I was composing a symphony.

  I pressed my head backward into the pressure, needing to get closer. The barest hint of lips brushing over my skin sent shivers through my limp body. A lovely whisper echoed in my ear, speaking to my soul, tiny vibrations kissing my earlobe as it spoke. What I heard was beyond my comprehension, though. A language made of sound—not words—blended in beautiful harmony. I tried to tell the voice I didn’t understand, but I couldn’t force the syllables from my mouth, only a drunken slur.

  In an instant, the pressure lightened. The air grew colder.

  My sight returned to normal, but I wasn’t back to normal.

  The sorrow of everyday life drove back into my heart like a runaway train. I ached for the escape, the heaven, I had just experienced. I didn’t understand the pain of human life until I was without it. The sadness inside begged for relief once again as I fell to my knees and sobbed, yearning for the phantom to hold me in its clutch forever.

  “Nevaeh, don’t cry. See,” a deep, rich voice spoke.

  Shaken, I looked up. Sloppy letters spread across the mirror. It didn’t look like my handwriting, but it was my finger that scrawled the letters. I examined my finger for evidence. Moisture still gathered at the tip.

  I don’t understand what’s going on. This is crazy.

  Stretching out of my ball of self-pity on the floor, I stood and read the watery words running down the glass.

  OPEN YOUR EYES.

  “My damn eyes are open!” I screamed, wiping my tears on my forearm. “Who are you?” Desperation was clear in the high pitch of my voice.

  Dew on the mirror’s surface dripped through the letters. My heart skipped. What I saw may never show up again, and I would have no proof it happened.

  Should I get someone?

  No, Gavyn would think I was unstable.

  Maybe I was, but that’s beside the point. I couldn’t ruin this for George—or myself. George would make a joke out of it anyway, not wanting to admit something might be wrong.

  There was no one to tell.

  I stared at the drying mirror. The words were only a memory now, permanently fixed in my mind. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to inhale any last bit of the ghostly scent.

  Bang! Bang!

  “Nevaeh, are you ok in there?”

  I jumped. My eyes shot open at the sound of George’s voice shouting through the door. “I’m fine.”

  “Did you fall asleep or somthin’?” he asked.

  Confused, I surveyed the room. Everything was completely back to normal. Even my towel hung from its hook. I glanced down and found myself submerged in water. I didn’t remember getting back in the tub.

  Had I not gotten out of the bathtub?

  The water was tepid, so time must have passe
d.

  I rubbed my thumbs over my pruned forefingers, staring blankly at the raised ridges. “I…I guess I did,” I replied to satisfy George—and to convince myself.

  “Well, you need to hurry up. It’s late, and we have a job in the a.m., thank goo’ness.”

  “George, I’m a big girl. It’s not a crime to soak in the tub a little past my bedtime if I want. I’ll be out when I get out. Go to bed you stubborn, old man.”

  His angry footsteps quieted as they moved farther away.

  “What the hell is going on?” I whispered to myself.

  If I had dreamt all that, it was very freakin’ vivid. My head spun with theories attempting to explain what occurred.

  I lifted myself out of the water, dried off, and tugged my t-shirt and sweats on. Rummaging through the small medicine cabinet, I found a brush. I worked the knots loose from my hair, staring at my reflection, and waited for the mirror to write me another message.

  Nothing happened.

  “Great, now I’m the queen from Snow White. Mirror, mirror on the wall who’s the craziest of us all?” I slammed the brush down on the sink, and like a little girl, stormed out of the bathroom in a tantrum of confusion.

  The place was dark except for the bright, blue lights of the café signs glowing into the hallway. I crossed the corridor and entered my new bedroom-slash-lounge. George was fast asleep on the couch, loudly sucking all the air out of the room.

  Blankets spread out over the cushions of my loveseat. He must have made the bed for me. Guilt stung as I remembered how short I was with him. I promised to apologize in the morning.

  The loveseat called me to its cushions, and I gladly accepted, hoping a good night’s sleep would make sense of things tomorrow. As I drifted off, thoughts of the strange embrace from earlier comforted me. Maybe all the changes today have messed with my head—new home, a new job, and strangers that heightened my emotions in ways I wasn’t used to—it was a lot to take in.

  I pushed the images out of my head and put them to rest for the night. My rigid body relaxed into the firm pillows.

  Time to dream about ordinary things.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Thin Line Between Crazy and Insane

  The scent of fresh brewed coffee drifted down the hallway and through the crack in my door, beckoning me to wake up. My eyes fluttered open and squinted from the bright, yellow rays shining through the window. I remained still, appreciating the beginnings of a new day in my new home.

  The raucous of clanking pans and chairs sliding off the tables reverberated from down the hall. I looked over to see George’s bed was already empty. His blankets rested neatly on the arm of the couch.

  I forced my tired body up and raised my arms to stretch. The slight cramp in my legs from sleeping curled up on a loveseat shorter than me was much better than the aches and dampness I usually woke up to. A new outfit lay folded on the end table next to me. I threw my legs over the edge of the cushions and pressed my toes against the floor. The cold, wooden planks sent chills up my skin, forcing me to jerk my bare feet up. I fought the urge to crawl back into the cozy bed and hoisted myself off the cushions.

  I doubled my blankets over my arm and stacked them on the couch, pondering the strange events from the night before. I rubbed my fingers across my forehead then gently pinched the ridge of my nose. My nervousness grew when I considered last night might be a side effect from the head injury I sustained long ago.

  Had it damaged me to the point of insanity?

  What I felt was real. It couldn’t have been a hallucination.

  Do people who hallucinate know they’re seeing things?

  There was a light tap on the door frame, jarring me from my thoughts. Probably better that way for now. Any more confusion might put a damper on my ability to function normally for the day.

  The door eased open.

  “Ah, she’s awake,” Gavyn mused, stepping into the room. He placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to me. “The crew meets here for breakfast before we open in the mornings. Fortunately for my employees, I don’t like to eat alone. Guess you could call it a perk.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get straightened up and be right out.” I fiddled with the blankets to avoid eye contact.

  “Layla left the clothes for ya. She said ya’ll are about the same size.”

  The space between us filled with a long, awkward silence. I smacked the throw pillows with my hand, pretending to be preoccupied with tidying the room.

  “George has already helped himself to two plates of pancakes, so you better hurry.” Gavyn smiled nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. “See you in a minute then,” he said, waiting for a response.

  I smiled and nodded. I didn’t know what else to say.

  He turned and left the uncomfortable room.

  Huffing out a breath of relief, I scooped up the donated clothing off the end table. I crossed the hallway to the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind me.

  When I unfolded the outfit Layla left, a pair of pink panties fell from the pile and dropped to the floor. I chuckled and picked them up, examining a set of red kissy lips printed on the back. It was more about Layla than I really wanted to know, but I was grateful for them.

  I pulled on the black slacks and a plum-purple, button-down shirt. My Mary Jane’s barely peeked out from under the pant legs that were almost too long. The confiscated blue ribbon from the day before matched, so I put it to good use. Watching my reflection to make sure I didn’t miss any stray hairs, I tied back the giant curls that formed from laying on wet hair most of the night.

  Determination to prove I wasn’t crazy got the best of me. I leaned over the sink and pursed my mouth to blow on the mirror. Warm air crossed my lips, heating the glassy surface. The feeling of victory settled in my heart as faint, finger-drawn words appeared under my breath. The evidence was clear. I didn’t imagine what happened. But who would believe that some phantom made me write it? I was all alone in this.

  The café was full of laughter as employees traded sarcastic comments. I lurked in the background, unnoticed for a moment, and admired what a family looked like. It was thrilling to consider I might be a part of it, too.

  I strolled farther into the room and searched for a familiar face. Layla waved at me in a beckoning motion.

  “Hon, you fill those pants out better than I ever did. Since they fit, I’ll bring more of my old outfits for ya. My closet’s too full anyway,” she admitted as I closed the distance between us. She hooked her arm around mine and proudly escorted me across the café like a shiny new toy.

  “Thanks for all of this,” I added, picking up my pace to keep up with her.

  Layla nodded and continued into the kitchen. “We have eggs and pancakes on the stove. Help yourself. You’ve got about a half hour, and then we’ll open. Plates are up there and silverware’s in the drawer.” She pointed to the wall opposite of us, then gracefully retreated back out into the hall.

  “Good morning,” George greeted somberly from the doorway.

  “Morning,” I returned, feeling guilty. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Guess I’m a little overwhelmed. Can you forgive me?” I put on a sweet expression, offering my best puppy-dog eyes.

  “Nev, you’re like my own daughter. I could never be mad at you for long. I know you’re a little hormonal and all, bein’ a woman.” He let out a throaty chuckle and tugged me in for a hug. I rolled my eyes as I gave his round body one tight squeeze. Ducking out of his grasp, I reached up and opened the cabinet above us then grabbed a plate.

  “These people are real nice.” George watched the crowd through the order window. “It’d be great if we stayed here a while. You should meet the others,” he urged.

  “Already planned on it.” I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m going to eat. Talk to you in a bit.”

  George ruffled my hair in that playful way he always did then left to join the crowd. I picked up a rubber
spoon and began shoveling a large serving of eggs onto my plate.

  Carrying my food to the dining room, I felt the awkward fluttering of butterflies commence in my stomach. I’d never fit well in big groups of people like this. Even though a shower and new clothes made me feel like a new person, it was hard to set aside my reclusive tendencies as an outsider.

  I walked the length of the four tables that the others had pushed together to form one. Before I realized it, my head bowed in an attempt to hide from the inquisitive eyes assessing the new girl. I forced my chin up, feigning confidence, and took the vacant seat near the end of the table.

  A young redhead next to me dipped her chin toward me and smiled politely then continued conversing with a man across the table who was focused on buttering his bread. The dining area hummed with the gossip of the morning.

  I scanned the faces creating our rectangle of friends and noticed Gavyn’s gaze lingering on me from three seats down. He grinned and stood up, capturing the attention of the other workers.

  “This is Nevaeh. Make sure y’all don’t scare her and George off with your foolishness, please.” Gavyn chuckled and ducked as a blond guy with a mohawk threw a piece of pancake at him. “Now, now. No need to get hostile, Jason.”

  Gavyn winked at me and began calling out names, one after another, introducing each individual with pride. I forced a timid smile and stood, shaking hands with every member of the staff until I met them all. A thankful sigh left my lips when my awkward moment in the spotlight was over. I settled back in my chair and picked up my fork eager to finish eating and get on with business.

  The second day started off easier, less chaotic. When the doors opened, it didn’t take long for the flow of customers to find their way inside. The café teemed with the bantering of hungry diners.