I cross and uncross my legs, brush my hands over the skirt of my dress until the hem falls just shy of my knees. A series of gestures greatly lacking in subtlety, a series of gestures that practically beg her to take notice, to inquire how I managed to change clothes so quickly, to say something, anything, but a denial as deeply rooted as hers is hard to defeat.

Hard, but not impossible.

I can’t allow myself to believe it’s impossible. Otherwise there’s no point in my being here.

Knowing it’s best to just take the lead and jump in, I look at her and say, “I missed you.”

She squirms, nods, leans closer to Munoz, who welcomes her into the crook of his arm and gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

But all she can manage in reply is, “So, are you going to tell me where you’ve been?”

I press my lips together, a little stunned by her response, but I guess she figures the emotional cost is too high for her to admit that she missed me too. But that’s okay. Even if she won’t admit it, I know she did miss me. I can see it in the way her aura flashes with just the slimmest hint of pink in the midst of all that still raging red.

Auras never lie. Only people do.

“I was in Summerland,” I say, my gaze traveling between her and Munoz.

“In Santa Barbara?” She shoots me a skeptical look but I’m quick to deflect it.

“No. Not the beach town in Santa Barbara, the real Summerland. The first Summerland. The mystical dimension that exists between this one and the one just beyond.”

Munoz tenses, his body on full-scale alert, prepared for the worst. While Sabine’s mouth grows grim, her gaze narrowing as she says, “I don’t understand.”

I lean forward, scooting to the very edge of my seat, saying, “I know. Believe me, I totally get it. It’s a lot to take in. Especially the first time you hear it. It was the same way for me. I chose to deny it for a really long time. Pretty much until I no longer could. I also know this will be even more difficult for you because of your reluctance to believe in anything that falls outside of your comfort zone, and how you prefer to dismiss anything you can’t see happening directly in front of you. But the reason I’ve decided to confide in you anyway, despite the uphill battle I face, is because I’ve grown tired of the game. I’ve grown tired of lying to you all the time. I’ve grown tired of hiding things from you. But mostly, I’ve grown tired of having to work so ridiculously hard at being this totally manufactured, false version of me just so you can continue to believe what’s most comfortable for you to believe.” I pause for a moment, giving her a chance to respond, but she just looks as cold and stone-faced as ever, so I quickly press on. “The first two weeks I was gone, I was at Damen’s. And I know you know that because I know he told you. But what you probably don’t know is that I was fully committed to never coming back. I’d vowed to move far away after graduation and to never see you again. And it’s not because I was being vindictive or trying to punish you—despite what you may think, I truly bore you no ill will. The reason I’d planned to leave you forever is because I truly believed it would make both our lives easier. But now things have changed, or at least they’re about to change in a really big way…” I swallow hard, chance a glance at Munoz and see him nod, encouraging me to go on, and I do. “But before that really big change can take place, I wanted to come clean with you. I wanted to take one last stab to try to make you believe.”

“And just what is it that I’m supposed to believe?” she asks, but I can tell by the defiant arch of her brow and the challenge in her tone that she already knows.

“I need you to believe that I’m not just some crazy, sad, attention-starved teen who’s so scarred and damaged by the loss of her family that she pretends to have psychic powers. I need you to believe that I’m not some con-artist charlatan who rips people off for a living.

And the reason I need you to believe that is because it’s the truth. I am psychic. I can and do hear other people’s thoughts. I can also see a person’s entire life story with merely a touch, just as I can see auras and communicate with all the ghostly spirits who choose to hang around the earth plane long after they should’ve moved on. And, in addition to that, I’m also immortal.” I stop, allowing enough time for my words to sink in, for my confession to take full effect. Knowing it has when her aura begins to flare and rage so bright, I’m surprised by the absence of smoke I thought for sure would be shooting out of her nose and ears.

“That red juice I always drink?” I tilt my head and look at her. “As it just so happens, it’s the elixir of eternal life. The one man has sought through the ages—only Damen is one of the few who actually succeeded in discovering the secret formula just over six hundred years ago.”

“Ever, if you think that I’m…” She shakes her head, far too furious to even complete her own sentence, though she does manage to think it, and this time I tune in. If for no other reason, it might help prove my point.

My eyes meet hers, watching her closely as I slowly repeat her unspoken words. “No, I really don’t think you’re willing to consider something so ludicrous, so ridiculous, so far-fetched, so… sad—for even one second.” Seeing her eyes widen in shock, but she’s just as quick to dismiss it, assuring herself it was obvious what she was thinking. And though it was, I’m not about to stop there.