Here’s another segment from Whispering Hearts, where Rachel finally tells Garrett about her abilities.
WHISPERING HEARTS
The Summer Park Psychics, book two
“Garrett.” She waited to speak till he was crouched in front of the fridge, the door blocking her view of him. Somehow, that made it easier.
“Yeah?”
“I’m clairsentient.”
“Clair-what-now?”
“Clairsentient. It means I can perceive things using Extra Sensory Perception. ESP.”
He kept rattling around in the fridge. “What kind of things?”
“Ghosts. Voices of the dead.”
He stood up, mustard and mayo tucked under one arm and bags of turkey and cheese in his hand. “I think I saw that movie.” His face was deadpan, but he had to be joking.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. I’m trying to get a common frame of reference. I want to understand what you’re telling me.”
She hadn’t expected that. He was being rational about it. Hearing her out. Part of her was excited at the opportunity to explain herself. Maybe, just maybe, he would believe her.
But a bigger part was terrified. She wasn’t sure which she dreaded more—him thinking she was crazy or…believing her. This was supposed to push him away, not open possibilities.
“I only hear them. I don’t see them. Well, except in reflections.”
“That’s why you had me cover the mirror in your bathroom.”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Okay. After lunch, we cover the rest of them. There aren’t many, so it won’t take long. And let’s cut up a sheet or two instead of using towels. They’ll stay put better.”
“Are you listening to me? Ghosts are real. They’re around us constantly. And I can hear them.”
“Yeah. I get it.” He set down the food on the counter, then closed the door to the fridge. He kept working on lunch as he talked. “And that’s why you aren’t taking your meds. There’s no point in taking anti-hallucinogens when you aren’t hallucinating.”
It couldn’t be this easy. He must be trying to keep her calm. As soon as he had a moment to himself, he would call someone to come get her or figure out a way to take her to the hospital himself. In the meantime, he was casually making them sandwiches.
“I’m not going back.”
She bit out each word. She would run into the swamp before going back to the hospital. At least there all she’d have to face were alligators. And snakes. And bugs.
Okay, maybe she wouldn’t run into the swamp, but she sure as hell wasn’t—
“I know.”
He spoke so softly her furious thoughts almost drowned him out. His voice was tired, gentle, resigned. If he had said it any other way, she probably wouldn’t have registered him speaking. But there was a power to his quiet.
“How can you know? How can you believe me?”
—
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