Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
She clears her throat. “And were all of the bodies buried in the same cemetery?”
Another headshake. “But all of the cemeteries are in Tennessee.”
“So you’ve seen many girls and many locks of hair tied to various trees?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve seen more than one cemetery?”
I nod.
“If you were one of the girls, how did you see more than one cemetery?”
I shrug. “Maybe I witnessed other deaths before mine. Maybe it was its own form of torture. If the killer was a psychopath, he enjoyed watching me suffer.”
“I’m very sorry, Josephine. But you were not one of those girls.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your element is water. You point west. Sunset. Autumn. Waning moon. Water. That’s why your spirit attempted to leave when you were in the water. And where you came from is how you died in the life you resurrected. We come from the opposite of where we are now. You came from air. Your spirit in that life left this world in air, not earth. These girls were buried in earth. They were not hung from air. That was symbolic of something else, not the manner in which they died.”
“They were dead before they were buried in earth. Their death might have been air.” I don’t know why I’m arguing with her. I’m not equipped with enough knowledge of elements and their symbolism.
“If they were dead before they were buried, and you were one of those girls, then you wouldn’t have visions of a cemetery. Visions of previous lives are from moments when we were actually alive. I’ve died many times. Trust me, I know.” She closes the book. “I can assure you; you weren’t one of the girls.”
“Then the visions don’t make sense.”
Her gaze drops to the book, her pointed fingernails tapping the cover. “As I was saying earlier, this is not a gift. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I wish there were more I could do.”
“What is this? What are you referring to?”
“Vita Atonement.” She brings her attention back to me.
I study her for a few moments before nodding. “Life reparation?”
Her thick brows slide up her forehead a fraction. “Exactly. This life is your chance to make up for the life you remember. Vita atonement lives are never easy. The souls trapped in a body during this kind of life cycle are often unsettled. They don’t fit in well. They’re often battling between what is and what was without realizing it. And it’s incredibly rare to have what you have.”
“What do I have?”
“Recollection. You now have the missing piece. You now know why you’ve struggled to find your place, to fit in, to submit to what is ‘normal.’ Atonement won’t be easy for you, but you have a better chance than most who navigate Vita Atonement without recollection.”
I shake my head. “I … I don’t have recollection if you’re telling me I wasn’t one of those girls.”
“Josephine, you know. Your brain is trying so hard to protect you. It’s why the brain blocks certain memories like trauma. It’s why you don’t recall the day you died, how long you were underwater, how your lungs felt when they needed oxygen but none was there to be had.”
“What …” I continue to shake my head. “What are you saying?”
“You know.”
I continue to shake my head.
“You can’t forget it until you let it in, atone it, and bury it for good.”
“Atone what?”
“You know, Josephine. Close your eyes and let it in.”
I don’t want to close my eyes. I want her to stop being so cryptic. “Just tell me.”
“I don’t have to,” she whispers. “You already know.”
This is worse than the images.
This is worse than the feeling I had the night Colten unearthed the bodies.
This is … unimaginable.
“No …” I stumble getting to my feet.
“Let it in.”
“N-no …” I sway while my legs attempt to carry me to my clothes. Is this what it feels like to be drunk? To have no control over your body and your mind?
“You have to make this right in the universe.”
“STOP IT!” I rip off the gown and grab my hair, fingers digging into my scalp. My knees buckle, sending me to the floor in a naked ball of despair. I want to pull out my hair and rip off my skin. Plunge a knife into my chest and cut out my own heart.
You weren’t one of the girls … you were Winston Jeffries.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Time’s up. You ready to talk yet?” Rains asks as I stare at my computer a little before ten p.m.
“What?” I glance up from my desk littered with paperwork and empty coffee cups. I’ve messaged Josie a dozen times and called her at least that many.
“Can we talk?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“I dug your ass out of trouble in Nashville. I’m still getting calls about Dr. Watts. I don’t find out you were childhood friends until the two of you raid a cemetery in another state. You begged me to give you some time to ‘deal’ with her before explaining everything to me. Well … times up.” He sits on the edge of my desk and crosses his arms.