a word!” she hissed, and that ended the conversation.
Parking near her house in the Garden District, I finally dared to look at Sabrina.
She looked completely shattered and worn out.
“Let’s go. I’ll stay with you until Eric arrives.” She didn’t respond, but nodded wearily and got out of the car.
“I want to take a shower,” she said upon entering the house, not giving me a chance to say a word, and left me alone.
Thirty long minutes later, Sabrina emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in an old terry robe. Her wet hair was disheveled on her slender shoulders, a healthy flush had returned to her cheeks, although her movements still seemed a bit distracted. She walked into the living room, sat down in her grandfather’s favorite armchair, and looked at me intently.
“Don’t ask,” Sabrina whispered softly, as if reading my thoughts.
“I want to know what’s happening to you. And I’m sure Eric does too.”
Sabrina lowered her head for a moment, and when she looked up again, I froze in confusion. Tears glistened in her eyes. But apart from tears, there was something else, but I couldn’t quite make it out just what. Fear? Perhaps. But what was she afraid of? That was what I had to find out…
Chapter 9
Michelle De Manshand
I continued to silently observe her. As if in response to this, Sabrina wrinkled her nose, casually tossed her wet hair back, and began pacing the room. She furrowed her brows repeatedly, pondering whether she could trust me. After several minutes of continuous pacing, she stopped by the window. Another loud sigh escaped her lips, filled with so much anguish that my heart nearly stopped.
“Come on, what’s wrong? ” I asked as gently as possible.
“You won’t believe it,” the girl whispered softly, covering her face with her hands.
“Maybe just start, and we’ll take it from there? Trust me, I believe in a lot of things,” I encouraged her.
She pondered for a few seconds, then looked at me fearfully.
“And you won’t tell anyone? ”
I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“I mean, you won’t tell anyone that I’ve lost it and won’t start teasing me about it?”
“Are you kidding? Watching you in pain doesn’t bring me any pleasure, even remotely, ” and that was the absolute truth. “And I don’t believe you survive solely on expired food, ” I muttered. To my immense relief, she smiled.
“Okay, I’ll try. ”
Sabrina settled comfortably on the couch, contemplating where to begin her story.
“It all started on January twenty-fourth. Exactly a year after my grandfather’s passing.”
“Yeah, I remember,” my voice betrayed me slightly, but Sabrina didn’t seem to notice.
“That night, I…” she suddenly fell silent and took a deep breath. “That night, I heard his voice for the first time. In my sleep.”
I furrowed my brow but didn’t say anything. Instead, I cleared my throat, indicating to Sabrina that she should continue her story.
“I didn’t think much of it then, dismissing it as just a weird dream. But soon the dream recurred, becoming clearer. And another voice joined Alex’s. A woman’s voice. Then images appeared, becoming clearer and more distinct with each new dream. They argued about something, and… sometimes Grandpa yelled at her. And then the voices disappeared, for about a month, maybe more. But then they returned again,” Sabrina explained. I approached Sabrina and sat down beside her.
“Maybe my request will sound strange, but could you describe the woman?” I asked calmly, trying not to reveal my excitement, while mentally running through all the women of the De Manshand family that I knew.
“Yes, I can. She looks about twenty-seven. She’s not tall, with dark, almost black hair, light blue eyes. A very good figure, and also…” Sabrina suddenly fell silent and lowered her gaze.
“What’s that? ” I inquired.
“I swear to God, she looks very much like me! Almost identical!” Sabrina exclaimed.
I couldn’t believe it. Could Sabrina have seen her own mother? I frantically recalled everything I had ever read or heard about the De Manshand family. After Michelle and Alex had hidden the girl, Michelle decided to return home to France.
There was talk of an incredible scandal that had erupted in the family after Michelle had told Marie – Sabrina’s grandmother – that the child had died.
Michelle had never been seen again since. Some newspapers wrote about her death, and Marie did not deny it, on the contrary, she burst into tears, portraying herself as a grief-stricken mother, but Michelle’s body was never found. And now,
what if Sabrina is seeing Michelle’s spirit? What is she trying to convey to her daughter? And why is Grandpa’s spirit so persistently opposing this interaction?
Could it be that Michelle wants Sabrina to reach out to her Grandmother herself?
But why? Michelle was so desperate to save her daughter from the family fate.
She didn’t want Sabrina to grow up like all the other women in their family. Cold, callous, and merciless. Maybe… But was that Michelle feared? Grandpa was right; Sabrina’s mother was different from the other family witches. Michelle’s paranormal gift was being able to see both the past and the future. She knew the whole truth about the deeds of her numerous relatives and ancestors. All it took was touching any object belonging to someone even remotely interesting to Michelle, and their past lives with all their deeds, no matter how terrible, would be revealed before her eyes. It was this gift that made her different. Also kind, loving, and honest. And most importantly, she was capable of something that other members of the De Manshand family were not. She was an empath, able to feel deeply: guilt, shame, and even disgrace for the past and present of her own family.
That’s why she had turned to Alex for help…
“I’ve been visited by her during the day,” Sabrina said thoughtfully.
Her quiet voice interrupted my thinking. I widened my eyes in disbelief and stared at Sabrina.
“What? What do you mean she has visited you during the day? ” My confusion was so apparent that Sabrina became slightly alarmed. She squinted at me. I turned away to face the window and pulled out another cigarette trying to mask the emotions that had come over me at the most inappropriate moment.
“Mind if I smoke? ” I asked.
“No, of course not,” she replied.
I sat down on the wide windowsill and lit up, desperately trying to sort out my thoughts. However, what I had just heard made it difficult to think rationally, and some details of Sabrina’s “encounter” with her mother left questions swirling in my mind unanswered.
“So
