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 smirks. “That would be tragic. Jesus is one of my favorites. Long hair. Abs for days. Water into wine. Feeding five thousand. Healing a paralyzed man. The blind. The deaf. The resurrection? Seriously, the resurrection! Has there ever been a more perfect man?”
Colten readjusts on his pillow.
“What Would Josie Do?” she corrects. “When you feel overwhelmed. When you wake from these visions or hear voices in your head, think about Josephine Watts. What would she do?”
My head eases side to side. “I … I don’t know anymore. I’ve spent too much time analyzing my personality, my interests, my choices in life and comparing them to those of a psychopath.” I stare at the floor between us. “My mom was raped. I am the child of rape. The perfect portal for evil. Oh my god … think about it. JW. WJ. Josephine Watts. Winston Jeffries. That means something, right?”
“Josie …” Colten rests his hand on my leg.
It feels like the temperature of the room drops ten degrees. Athelinda offers me a sad smile and nods. “Maybe.”
My gaze lifts to the ceiling, focusing on stars.
“This life is a blink. And you know without a doubt, now, that we don’t end when our hearts stop beating. If you weren’t in this life…” she glances over at Colten “…you’d be missed. Your absence would leave emotional holes. But those holes are nothing compared to what you’re experiencing now … or what you’ll experience as these visions multiply. Only you know. Only you can see your purpose. Only you can choose your direction. Only you will know if it becomes too much.”
“What?” Colten shakes his head. “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you … are you giving her permission to die? To kill herself? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I don’t feel his anger and rage. I feel empowered.
“Get up. Get dressed. We’re leaving.” Colten grabs my arm while he stands.
I shake my head.
He squats beside me. “Look at me.” His hands frame my face. “I will not let anything happen to you. We are stronger than this. Do you hear me?” His words bleed with desperation, and it’s heartbreaking.
“You have to make peace with her decision, whatever it may be,” Athelinda says.
Colten ignores her, keeping his gaze on me. “She doesn’t know you. I know you. I love you. We will get through this.”
“How?” I whisper.
He swallows hard while lines dig into his forehead. “Together.”
Oh, Colten …
I let him help me to my feet. Athelinda’s sad smile makes an encore performance. I mirror her expression. Colten can be sympathetic. Agreeable. Sacrificial. He can be a million things, but he can’t be me. He can’t truly understand what this is like for me.
He tears off his gown, no longer caring about Athelinda’s eyes on him. I dress a little slower.
“There is one …”
My gaze slides to her as she starts to speak.
Her teeth scrape along her dry lower lip. “One other possibility.”
“Let’s go.” Colten ties his shoes.
“What?” I ask.
She leans to the side and retrieves her I AM … book. While flipping through the pages, she hums. “The odds would not be in your favor.” Her finger traces with lines of script on the page. “They’d be so much not in your favor that I’m not sure I’d even call them odds.”
“Just tell me.”
Lifting her head slowly, she draws in a quick breath and releases it with one big whoosh. “If you have another near-death experience, it could erase these memories.”
“No. Fuck no. Let’s go, Josie.” Colten’s hand encircles my wrist, but I pull against his tug.
“It can’t be worse than the other option,” I say, opting to not say the actual words.
Suicide. Taking my own life. Checking out.
“Actually, it could. Dying instead of coming back to life is the least of my concerns for you.” She glances down at the book again. “You could experience something just as bad or worse. It’s foolish to assume this is only your second life. You could have brain damage. You could be in a coma, on a ventilator, which would mean your loved ones would have to make an awful decision.”
“Or it could work,” I whisper.
“Josephine, I am a rare exception to any rule. Most people don’t come back from death once, let alone more than once. Your chances of winning the lottery might be better.”
I shake my head. “My heart stops and we start it back up. I’ll take those chances over the lottery.”
“Jesus, Josie …” Colten tugs on my wrist again. “No. We’re leaving.”
“No. That’s not how it works,” Athelinda says. “For you to have even a remote chance of losing the past-life memories, your heart has to stop beating for longer than it did last time. When it’s not beating, your soul shifts through its many lifecycles. It won’t release the one in your head until its time has expired. For that to happen, it has to be longer.”