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Chapter 5 - Awakening

The room was all white and there were too many lights. There was a window to my left with vertical blinds turned so that the full effect of the sun shines right onto my bed. However, this wasn't my bed. It was a hospital bed.

To my right the head and shoulders of a man with thinning salt and pepper hair was leaning over on the bed. It took a moment to recognize that it was my father who showed more signs of his age than I realized.

"Dad?"

"Lacy!" He awoke like a bolt of lightning. The concern on his face was enough to bring me to tears.

"Marcus. What happened to Marcus?"

"It's okay. The boy you were with is going to be fine. The bullet missed his organs and he just lost a lot of blood."

"What about the shop owner?" I asked hopefully but I thought I already knew.

"I'm sorry, Lacy. She didn't make it."

I cried loudly and my father wrapped his arms around me. It was an unfamiliar feeling that I didn't even know I needed so badly.

I didn't know what to say. I felt so sad. I just sobbed for the longest time and my dad just held me.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. I knew who it was and Dad must have known too.

"Do you want them to go away?"

"No. I'll be okay if you stay with me."

"Oh...um. You know, I um...I'm not good around cops."

Disappointment didn't begin to describe the low feeling that filled my stomach. I was too proud to beg him. I turned my face to the window. "Then send them in on your way out."

I cried one last tear took a deep breath. When I turned around my father was gone and two police officers stood by the door.

"Miss Holt, my name is Detective James and this is my partner Detective Orsingo. Would it be alright if we asked you a few questions?"

They talked and I answered, but mostly I felt numb. I was consumed with the way my father had just walked out on me.

I could be sure the detectives already thought they had enough evidence without my statement, but I couldn't be sure of my own father's feelings for me. Even my mother's heart was easy to feel when she was around, but Dad was the great unknown.

The detectives left and I got another knock outside my door. It startled me because I couldn't sense who was there. It figured my father was back but I didn't really want to see him.

"Go away!"

Then a soft audible voice floated all around me, "Lacy? I'll go if that is really what you want."

"Milly," I thought. "What could she possibly want?"

"Just to talk," the voice whispered.

"You heard me?" I thought in surprise. "I didn't say anything. I only thought it."

"Yes. In close enough proximity we can communicate telepathically."

"How?" I thought.

Then a roughly scratchy, but womanly voice came from the other side of the door. "May I come in, Dear?"

"Yes," I responded, unsure of what to expect.

An thin older woman stepped cautiously through the door. Her hair was as shiny and white as the snow covered pond between our houses. She had it pulled up in puffy bun. Her skin was pale but her lips held a daring shade of red. She may well have been 65 or 70 years old but her eyes were still a bright and stunning green.

"Your voice sounds different in person than it does in my head."

"As it should"

I thought that was a weird answer, but choose not to dwell on it.

"Why are you just now so persistent in wanting to meet me?" I wasn't in the mood for pleasant chitchat and wanted to get straight to the point.

I couldn't read her thoughts or feelings. It didn't surprise me since my father had told me that my Grandmother had heped Milly to block them. I didn't want to feel anyone anyway. I only walked to be alone.

"I've tried to talk to your father many times in the last six months. He doesn't want to be an Impath and I believe he thinks he can drown his abilities away. As for you, I think he is in denial of what you will grow to become. Untrained, it will be a much harder lesson. I only want to give you the opportunity to choose for youself."