Forgotten (5 page)

Suddenly tears began to well up in Katrina’s eyes and she felt a strong need to get out of Doctor Clairmont’s office. Standing up, Katrina walked around the coffee table and toward the door.

“Katrina, please don’t upset yourself over this,” Doctor Clairmont said, as she met Katrina at the door and handing over the book that Katrina had left on the coffee table.

“I am not upset,” Katrina replied, her voice emotionless.

Doctor Clairmont opened the office door, letting Katrina out. “Same time next week?” Doctor Clairmont asked. Katrina stopped momentarily as she passed to give a nod, then made her way down the hall to the elevators.

As the elevator doors began to close behind her, the first hot tears began to roll softly down her cheeks.

Wiping the tears from her face, Katrina removed a mirror from her pocket and checked herself. Only when she was satisfied that Mrs. Sinclair could not tell that she had been crying did she enter her office.

“Hi, Mom!”

Mrs. Sinclair was sitting behind her desk, talking on the phone, case files scattered in front of her. Looking up, she waved Katrina in to sit down. Closing the door behind her, Katrina obliged.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mrs. Sinclair said, covering the mouthpiece, “I’ll only be a minute,” Mrs. Sinclair continued before returning to her call.

Katrina nodded an acknowledgement, then, taking this opportunity to some quiet time while Mrs. Sinclair was on the phone, looked at the book her hands. Turning it, she started to read the back cover.

Reincarnation: fact or fiction? This book tries to find out the truth with the help of Professor Wolanczach, a leading expert in the study of the past-life phenomenon, and explains the theories behind its rising popularity.

Katrina rolled her eyes and groaned silently to herself.

“Katrina, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Sinclair asked, putting the phone back in its cradle.

Katrina jerked in surprise, dropping the book. “Why should there be anything wrong?”

“I don’t know; maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that you’re awfully quiet and jumpy?”

“Mom, I’m okay. It’s just today’s session with Doctor Clairmont has made me really tired and all I want to do is go home.”

“Alright, I’ll just finish up here and then we can go,” Mrs. Sinclair said as she started to put case files back into the filing cabinet. Turning off her computer and picking up her purse and a case file that she was still working on, she turned to Katrina. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Katrina replied, getting up out of the chair. She reached down to retrieve her book from the floor and followed Mrs. Sinclair out of the office.

Ten minutes later Mrs. Sinclair and Katrina were driving home. Katrina looked out of the window and let her mind wander back to what Doctor Clairmont had said to her.

Why do I still have this damn amnesia?
Katrina thought angrily.
I feel so helpless!

“Katrina, sweetheart?”

Katrina looked over at Mrs. Sinclair and smiled faintly.

“Are you sure that there’s nothing wrong?”

“Well,” Katrina began nervously, wetting her lips, “Doctor Clairmont hypnotized me and regressed me back to a past life in today’s session.”

Mrs. Sinclair suddenly braked at that. There came a chorus of blaring car horns around them. “Is that
safe
?”

“Ow!” Katrina cried out, rubbing her right shoulder where her seat belt had cut into her when the car had jerked forward.

“I’m sorry, Katrina,” Mrs. Sinclair replied guiltily, starting the car and easing back into the rush hour traffic. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, Mom, you didn’t hurt me. I was just a bit surprised. And yes, Doctor Clairmont assured me that she wouldn’t do anything that would put me in any kind of danger.”

“So you were hypnotized and you’re sure it was safe, but why didn’t Doctor Clairmont inform me what she had planned? I was talking to her before your session this afternoon; she should have mentioned something to me; after all, I am your foster mother. I have a right to know these things …”

“Mom! Please, you’re overreacting. Like I said, I was completely safe, and besides that …” Katrina stopped and looked out of her window, her palms beginning to sweat.

The atmosphere in the car became uneasy. It was quiet for a while, until Mrs. Sinclair finally said, “Katrina,” breaking the silence.

Katrina sighed and turned back toward Mrs. Sinclair. “I told Doctor Clairmont not to call you because I knew you would only worry.”

“Has Jessica been giving you pointers?”

Katrina smiled back faintly again.

“So what happened?” Mrs. Sinclair asked, absently switching the car’s windshield wipers on as the heavens opened and rain started to lash down.

“I said … well, I said some confusing things.” She rubbed her temples, sighing heavily.

Mrs. Sinclair looked over at Katrina and stared wistfully at the sad expression etched on her face. “Katrina, what’s bothering you? I’d do anything to make you happy, but you have to talk to me.”

Katrina managed a weak smile. “I know, Mom. Can we change the subject though? I’m just not feeling up to going into it at the moment.”

“Okay. I’m here for you if you need me though, we all are.”

As soon as Mrs. Sinclair had parked the car in their driveway, Katrina hopped out and hurried inside the house to avoid the rain.

“Hi, Dad!” Katrina called as she passed the family room on her way to the kitchen.

Mr. Sinclair was tall, slim, and good looking with short brown hair and gray eyes. Jessica often joked that her father should have been an actor instead of a lawyer like her mother, but unlike Mrs. Sinclair who worked nearby, Jessica’s father worked long hours over in Portland.

“How did today’s session go, sweetheart?” Mr. Sinclair asked, looking up briefly from the television program he was watching to smile at Katrina.

“It was okay, I guess. Can I tell you about it later?” Katrina said, reappearing briefly at the doorway before disappearing again to go back into the kitchen.

Jessica was in the kitchen when Katrina walked in. “So, how did it really go?” she asked mischievously.

Katrina sat down at the kitchen table and watched Jessica make herself a sandwich, her white West-Highland Terrier, Shelby, skipping around her feet.

“Can you make me one of those?”

“Sure. So how did the session go?” Jessica repeated, her head still inside the fridge.

“Can I fill you in later? I’m not really in the mood to talk about it right now.”

“Okay, sure,” Jessica shrugged.

“So what are you doing tonight, Jess?”

“Billy’s coming over; we thought we would watch a couple of movies.”

“Oh.” Katrina sighed.

Billy Kendle was five foot ten inches tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular chest. His hair was brown with blond highlights, and it hung straight down to his collar. His eyes were an intense gray in color. Katrina had met him after a basketball game for the Sycamore Wolves that he played for; she had felt that there was something not quite right about him, especially his eyes, which sometimes had a feral look to them that made Katrina shiver.

“You didn’t have anything planned for us to do together that I’ve forgotten about, like go and see a movie or something, did you?”

“No,” Katrina said absently, still thinking about Billy.

Jessica placed a ham sandwich on the table in front of Katrina and then sat down across from her.

“Why don’t you like Billy?” Jessica asked, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“I wouldn’t say that I don’t like him.”

“Then what would you say?” Jessica said.

“It’s hard to explain.”

Jessica got up from the table and went to get two cans of Pepsi out of the fridge. Sitting back in her seat, she handed one to Katrina. “Try me,” she instructed.

“I don’t trust him.”

“That’s only because you don’t know him. If you got to know him you would find out what a great and sensitive guy he really is.” Jessica paused and took a drink of her soda before continuing, “Besides, I’ve known Billy since kindergarten and we’ve been dating since we were both freshmen. I’d know if there was something not to trust about him.”

“I’m still not convinced.”

“Katrina, I’m not trying to convince you. It’s just that I want you and Billy to get along.”

“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

Her sandwich finished, Jessica placed her empty plate in the sink. “You finished?”

“Hmm, thank you,” Katrina said, passing her plate over. “That was delicious.”

“So, what are you going to do tonight?” Jessica inquired, sitting back down at the kitchen table, Shelby jumping up onto her lap.

“I haven’t really thought about it. I might watch some television in my room. Maybe I’ll read.”

“How boring! I’ve got a better idea — do you want to watch some DVDs with Billy and me?”

“Not really, Jess. But thanks for asking anyway.”

“You’d be doing me a favor if you changed your mind!”

“I would?”

“Well, let’s just say that even though I love Billy I’m not in any mood for his raging hormones tonight!”

“So you want me there so he doesn’t try anything?”

“Exactly!” Jessica said happily, stroking Shelby.

“Okay, you’ve twisted my arm, but you owe me one!”

“Sure, anything. There is just one more thing.”

“Go on,” Katrina said apprehensively.

“Will you help me get ready?” Jessica asked hopefully.

Shelby jumped off Jessica’s lap, disappearing down the hall.

“Have I got a choice?”

“Not really, no!” Jessica said, pulling Katrina to her feet.

Giggling, the girls left the kitchen and made their way upstairs. Shelby bounded after them, yapping happily.

Katrina sat on Jessica’s bed cross-legged and watched Jessica get ready.

“I like it,” Katrina said after a while.

“Are you sure? I don’t normally have my hair tied up.”

“It’s fine, stop getting stressed.”

Jessica looked in the mirror again; she was wearing her favorite blue sweater with a long blue skirt that she had bought that afternoon at the mall and her hair was in a French braid that Katrina had entwined with ribbon.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang, followed swiftly by two sharp knocks.

“That’s him!” Jessica cried happily, hurrying out of the bedroom.

Katrina followed and waited at the top of the stairs until Billy had gone into the den, then, picking up Shelby, who had followed her out of Jessica’s bedroom, slowly made her way in after them.

“You don’t mind if I join you?” Katrina asked casually from the doorway.

Jessica gave Katrina a sly wink from behind Billy’s back. “Of course not. The more the merrier.”

“I thought it was just you and me tonight, babe?” Billy whispered in Jessica’s ear. He slumped into the nearest armchair, a scowl on his face.

“I’m sorry, but what can I do? She’s like a sister,” Jessica whispered back sweetly.

Billy gave Jessica a look. Instantly his demeanor softened. Grinning, he pulled Jessica onto his lap and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jessica giggled.

Katrina came into the room and sat down on the couch, placing Shelby next to her.

“What movies did you get?” Katrina asked Billy.

“Here!” Billy said, passing them to Katrina.

Katrina looked at the cover of each DVD and grimaced. “They’re all horror!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Billy asked innocently.

“Why do you insist on watching junk like this?” Jessica exclaimed after she had looked at them herself.

“They’re classic movies!”

“Yeah, classically gross,” Katrina mumbled to herself.

“Billy! How can you call these classics? They’re all the same.”

“I would have to agree with Jessica,” Katrina interrupted.

“Thank you!” Jessica said, exasperated, getting up from Billy’s lap and moving to sit at the other side of Katrina on the couch.

“Is this gang-up-on-Billy day today or have I missed something?” he said defensively.

“Billy, sometimes you can be so paranoid! We’re not ganging up on you. We’d just like to watch something different for a change.”

“Like what?” Billy asked sarcastically.

“Anything that doesn’t have blood or werewolves in would be a start!”

“Oh, you mean something like this?” Billy reached into his jacket and withdrew one final DVD, which he passed to Jessica.

“Exactly that!” Jessica said, jumping up off the couch to hug her boyfriend. “Thank you! It’s my favorite!”

Later that night, in Katrina’s bedroom after Billy had left, Jessica was brushing her long blonde hair in front of her foster sister’s dressing table mirror. “Isn’t Billy just the best?” She dropped the hair brush and turned toward Katrina, who was lying on her bed, flicking through a fashion magazine. “Katrina, the house is on fire!”