She grins. “No. It will fade over time. You should see the house I grew up in.”
“I can imagine.”
“So do you see things all the time?”
“Only when I make skin-to-skin contact with someone. I’d rather not touch you, if that’s okay.”
She laughs and replaces her glove. “Believe me, I understand. No one wants permanent Sara marks all over them.”
“All right, class. Let’s begin,” Chambers calls out. Sara and I exchange a glance, and I brace for battle. Nausea sweeps through me when I catch a glimpse of the empty chair in the circle.
“Now that you’ve had time to think and speak with your counselors, does anyone want to elaborate on our conversation this morning?” No one volunteers, and Chambers turns to me. “What about you, Rebecca? Have you thought more about your opinions?”
I swallow, resisting the urge to lash out at her. “I was harsh. It’s been a difficult transition for me.”
“I think she had a point though,” Sara chimes in. “She wouldn’t have known this, but think about what we discuss in here: how hard a class is for those of us still in formal instruction; who spilled something during the last meal; what we think about the latest tapestry hanging in the lobby. No one ever says anything important, anything personal. There has to be a reason.”
“Interesting, Sara.”
“Maybe we’re all just boring,” someone jokes.
Chambers casts a disapproving look at the comedian before focusing back on Sara. “So why don’t you start us off. Give us something personal.”
Sara shifts, and I take pity on her. “That’s her point,” I say. “For all your assurances, this isn’t a safe environment, and I can prove it.”
“What do you mean?”
I clench my fists in my lap. Am I really about to do this? Maybe my relationship with Daniel is making me crazier than I thought.
“I see things about people. All we have to do is make contact, and I’ll get a flash of your past or future. I know things, damaging things. If I had a brief slip of conscience, secrets would be public knowledge. The best way to prove this is a safe environment, Instructor Chambers, is to give me your hand.”
A dull murmur spreads through the room. I sense the support of my peers and I’m encouraged by their response for once.“Come on, it’s not hard. I’ll see something and share it with the class. If it’s safe, you have nothing to worry about, right?”
“She’s right,” another student says. “Why should we be the only ones who have to share our secrets?”
I’ve put Chambers in an impossible trap and wait for her retraction. If we’re lucky, she’ll drop this stupid crusade and let us out early again. Instead, she draws in a deep breath and holds out her hand. Surprised, I stand up and stare at it.
“Well? Go ahead,” she says to me.
I approach slowly, sensing the gaze of every person in the room.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, offering her one last opportunity to back out.
“You haven’t given me much choice, have you?” she shoots back, and I shrug.
“You have the same choice we’re given.”
“Do it,” she says.
I swallow my nerves and reach for her palm. A wet childhood bed would do nicely. An awkward first kiss. Any non-threatening vision, really, but the shock escapes before I can hide it when I make contact. I throw her hand back at her, filled with disgust.
“What is it?” she asks.
I back away. “I was wrong. I’m sorry. This was stupid.”
“No, it was brilliant,” another student says. “What did you see?”
“Yeah, what was it?”
