“Lyric I made us some tea to go! Come on already!” Cadence yells from downstairs. Tea, another thing that’s different now. The me before didn’t like tea, but I’ve developed a taste for it, something that has pleased Cadence greatly.

Apparently, he’d been trying to get me to develop a taste for tea since he discovered that he liked it more than coffee. The whole tea versus coffee is actually an interesting debate between everyone in the family.

“Lyric! Hurry up! It’s not like I can leave without you, your appointment is first!” Cadence yells at me again. I sigh, grabbing a yellow cardigan and rushing downstairs to meet him. I nearly trip over Godzilla again. I give him a pat and leave my door open for him as I pass by.

He gives me a mournful awoo as I leave. He really doesn’t like it when I leave now. Even though he’s supposed to be the families dog, it seems like he’s most attached to me. Serenity said I was the one who picked him and named him, and he was so little when we got him that I bottle fed him.

It’s been over a week since I visited Evan. I’ve convinced myself that I must be going crazy. Not counting hearing my own voice outside of Evan’s hospital room, I’ve heard it three other times in various places.

Always so casual, as if it could be someone else, but whenever I look there’s never anyone there. That, on top of seeing Evan’s ghost, and the nightmares I never remember the details of, I’m afraid of what might happen next.

Cadence has taken to staring at me and asking what’s wrong, but it’s not like this is something I can just blurt out. He’d probably have me committed. Instead he seems to be convinced that I’m getting sick and has taken to loading me with vitamin C, and keeps offering to make me chicken noodle soup.

I haven’t really decided if it’s endearing or irritating yet. Downstairs Cadence passes me a to-go mug and an orange.

“Seriously?” I ask him. I reach past him to trade the orange for a couple of granola bars and he sighs.

“You should eat the orange. It’s good for you.”

“Yeah, yeah Mom. Whatever you say.” Cadence let’s out a huff but doesn’t say anything else as he follows me to the car. We’re already late, so it’s not like he has time to argue.

When we reach the car, I see he’s grabbed the orange and he places it in my lap before starting the car.

“For later.” He says with a slight smirk. I roll my eyes but shove the orange into my bag, a yellow eyesore, before sitting back to enjoy my granola bar breakfast.

We’re heading to my weekly therapy session, and of course what better place to go for someone going crazy.

I wonder if the therapist will just sense the loony in me, or maybe crazy has a smell? Guess we’ll find out. Then again, I don’t think she’s noticed anything off yet, and well, she’s a little eccentric herself.

Since the accident the entire family has started therapy. The doctors suggested it for me, to help regain my memories, but I guess because of the trauma Reid and Serenity thought it would be good for everyone.

Mine and Cadence’s sessions are always Monday mornings, Harp goes in the evenings when he finishes his baseball practices, while Reid, Serenity, and the twins have theirs on the weekends so that they don’t have to rush over after work.

Carren is not your typical looking therapist or typical anything, really. She’s got a hippy look to her and her building is covered in tapestries, hanging lanterns, and floor pillows. There’s a large fountain of a dragon curled around a castle, water trickling from the turrets and steam emitting from the dragon’s nose.

On the opposite end of the room is a koi pond, the fish swimming over a brightly marbled pool, a yin and yang symbol shining on the tiles. A large sign hangs over the pond, telling visitors not to throw coins in, because they can be toxic to the fish.

To complete it all is a statue of a big bellied Buddha that greets us at the door. Cadence heads over to a floor cushion in the lobby and starts reading a book he brought with him as I make my way to Carren’s office.

“You’re just on time Lyric!” Carren says, rushing over to hug me. I’m not really sure about the proper etiquette for therapy sessions, but I’m betting Carren doesn’t practice most of it.

At least she doesn’t care about being a few minutes late. The first time we were late she’d said the same thing and I’d corrected her, only for her to give me a mini lecture about how time is all an illusion, and then something about it being a social construct to keep us constrained and from truly taking the time to enjoy our day-to-day lives. I’m not really sure I fully agree with her about the irrelevant nature of time and all, but it sure made things easier when we were late more often than not.

I’d looked Carren up after our first session and she is indeed a licensed professional, if a little light on the professional part. She also happens to be a fortune teller in her spare time, reading auras, and palms, and tarot cards and all that, which might be another factor of the hippy vibe, metaphysical, I correct myself.

I’d found that term on her website and was still getting used to using it. I think maybe she just has more leeway because she’s her own boss. And the new-age thing must be trendy enough to keep her in business since she’s been doing therapy sessions and readings for three years now.

Plus, my entire family loves her, there’s just something so warm and relaxing about being around Carren. She’s so easygoing and sweet.

Her office is heavy with the scent of jasmine and vanilla and has an Arabian Nights feel, complete with a draped ceiling and a little cushioned seating area in the floor at the center of the room. In the far corner is a settee and a plush recliner, perhaps for those that won’t or can’t sit in the floor seating. I plop on a floor poof and lean back into the wall, kicking my sandals off. Carren herself is always barefoot, a little anklet of bells chiming as she closes the door.

“So, tell me how this week has been? Anything new?” Carren asks as she lights the candles around the room, her purple skirts swishing around her feet.

The answer is usually no, because of course I’m not going to mention the voices, nor have I ever told her about Evan’s ghost. Though Carren being as eccentric and open minded as she is would probably believe me without thinking I’m crazy. It’s still not something I really want to share, but this time I realize I do have some things to share.

“I do have some news… kind of. I met some people that knew me and Evan.”

She’s finished lighting the candles now, she claimed they helped to purify any negative energies in the air. They always smell like fresh laundry and sometimes cookies, so I never complain.

She motions for me to continue as she takes the seat in front of me.

“Well the first two were from a theater company. Apparently, we like to act and auditioned for two of the leads, and we’d gotten them.”

“So, did this bring back any memories? Perhaps other things you may have acted in.”

“That’s the strange part, no one in the family knew I auditioned for it, nor did any of them know that I was that into acting in the first place. Like Cadence mentioned I’d been in an acting club before but he said he thought it was just a passing interest. And Serenity and Reid said that I hadn’t been in a play since elementary school, at least not that they knew of.” I’d asked everyone else the next day. And even Serenity had been surprised.

“I see you’re still calling your mother by name, have you worked any on that?” She asks. I shake my head. I still can’t bring myself to call her Mom. It just doesn’t seem right. Like a lie.

Thankfully Carren doesn’t push the subject.

“Hmm, so you discussed the acting with everyone and no one knew, perhaps you were planning to surprise everyone? You told me before that your family keeps bringing up a journal that you used to carry around a lot. Have you been able to find it yet? Maybe it would have some clues.” Carren suggests.

That’s not the first time she’s suggested finding my journal, nor the first time I’d thought of it. As soon as Cadence had mentioned it I’d searched all over my room, but it’s been months and I still can’t find it. All that my brothers could tell me was that I always hid it, and never in the same spot. I shake my head no.

“And the others you met?” Carren says easily diverting off the glum subject.

“An ex of one of my brothers. They were engaged, but no one thought to even mention her.”

“And did she jog any memories?”

I shake my head again. The session is starting to become a repeat of many of our sessions. She asks questions and I provide her with no results.

She’d convinced me to take up yoga, saying that the flow of positive energy would possibly allow the memories to come back. I’m fairly certain that no real human can do yoga, either that, or humans with iron wills. The concentration alone nearly put me to sleep, so I promptly quit after my first try.

Carren continues to ask about my week, so I tell her about my visit with Evan and running into his grandmother again. I tell her about winning air hockey against Harp, she refers to that as muscle memory. Somehow, we end up back on the confrontation with Analise.

“I don’t really know what came over me, but I wanted to slap her so badly after she upset Cadence like she did.”

“It’s not unusual to want to protect those we love, even if you don’t remember that you love him.” She responds.

The session winds down and she tells me to try harder to find my missing journal. Then I trade places with Cadence.