Heaven on Earth

PROLOGUE

He told her she was nephilim.

Inhuman. Otherworldly. That her actions would have consequences.

Now, at fourteen years old, she had to face those consequences. In reality, she had lived those consequences since she was seven, but now she was close to being free. If only she could convince Dr. Carla that she was ready.

Dr. Carla started with the usual questions. How Lori liked her classes, how she was doing, and how she slept. Once Lori had answered in the normal way— fine, fine, fine— Dr. Carla turned a new page in her notebook and gave Lori a distant smile.

"What will you do when you go home with your aunt?"

Lori frowned in thought. "Go to school, I guess. Real school." A dead person could pass the classes here.

"What about your first day with your aunt? Any big plans?"

Lori shifted, fiddling with the sleeve of her t-shirt. "Not really."

"How come?"

Always with the questions. Lori bristled.

"Because we don't know if they'll let me out," she said, withholding a duh!

Dr. Carla must have seen it in her face though, because the woman smiled and tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears. "What do you want to do?" she prodded.

Sighing, she searched her mind. "Eat something with salt. Lots of salt." She smiled. "French fries."

Dr. Carla's smile grew. "It is a bland diet here. What about your friends? Will you keep in touch?"

With the nutcases and psychopaths? No way. Lori didn't even have to answer, Dr. Carla just watched her face and nodded.

"What about your list?"

"List?"

Dr. Carla cleared her throat and took a sheet out of her notebook. She passed it to Lori, whose heart sank when she saw her own bubbly handwriting. She recognized this. Her list. Her special list.

"You wrote that in one of your classes, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she muttered, handing it back. It figured that Ms. Tammy would give it to Dr. Carla when she caught Lori not paying attention in science class. Nothing was sacred here in this facility of pale walls and blue linoleum. Aunt Candy would respect her privacy, she knew it.

"Will you tell me about the list?"

Lori shrugged and glared at the puke green carpet in Dr. Carla's office. "Just a list."

"It says this is the list of things you won't talk about. What does that mean?"

If she didn't say anything, they would keep her here. If she said something, they might keep her here. Lose-lose.

I hate this place.

Doctors and teachers and wardens. Never a moment to yourself. Forget freedom— your whole day was scheduled for you. Not a minute alone in case you became the next Gina, who committed suicide with a ton of pills her brother smuggled in. Supposedly. This place was full of drugs if you knew the right people to ask.

Everyone can peddle drugs in here, but I can't have one fricking piece of paper.

"Just a list. Aunt Candy asked me what I'd feel uncomfortable talking about. You know, if I went to live with her." She gestured to Dr. Carla's lap, still not looking at her. "And that's what I came up with."

"You feel you can't talk about these things? Or won't?"

"Both, I guess. I don't know."

"You look like you have a question, Lori."

Ugh. After seven years with her, Dr. Carla knew Lori's tells. At least Aunt Candy wouldn't. She could finally have some of her own secrets. If she got to go.

She sighed. "What does it matter? Can't and won't. It means the same thing."

Dr. Carla thought about this, watching Lori with her pale brown eyes. They were the second prettiest— no, the prettiest— eyes Lori had ever seen. The other pretty eyes were fake. Fantasies.

"Won't means you make a choice not to talk about these things," said Dr. Carla, holding up the list. "Can't means the words die in your mouth. Is that the distinction you were looking for?"

"I guess it's both, then," she said. "The more I stop... reminding myself of those things, the better I feel. I don't want to keep reminding myself of them if I don't have to. Isn't it better to agree with Aunt Candy about what I won't talk about before it ever comes up?"

"I understand your reasoning," said Dr. Carla. But Lori knew the psychologist too, and the doctor was holding something back. She knew shrink-speak too.

"But you don't think I should avoid those things?"

"You and I have discussed these topics. At length, I'll add." Dr. Carla's smile made Lori's mouth curve too. Long talks was the understatement of the century. "Your aunt can only learn so much about you through the medical history I can share. She may want to talk about these things with you, if only to be a source of comfort, support."

"Are you saying I have to talk about... all that?" Her gut churned with the thought. Could Aunt Candy even be comforting? She had never seemed like it. No-nonsense and to the point, that was her aunt. Lori's mom had the heart, Aunt Candy said, and Candy got the steel.

"No," said Dr. Carla, and Lori's hands unclenched. Those were private things. After she left the facility, no one had to know how fucked up Lori really was, not if she didn't talk about it.

Dr. Carla stood up the moment the timer on her desk began beeping to signal the end of their session. She held the paper up, grabbing Lori's attention, and tossed it into the trash can beside her desk.

"You don't have to talk about it, but you should think about doing so. Your aunt is more than capable of providing you the support you need, and she's not scared of you."

But what if I'm scared of myself?

She walked back to her room, following the painted shoe prints on the floor that led everyone like ducklings around the open areas of the hospital. She heard a girl and one of the wardens laughing it up by the cafeteria doors, and she kept her head down. You couldn't attract attention in places like this. Sometimes not even the adults were safe.

It didn't matter. She wouldn't talk about those things. Simple. No one would question a tomboy fourteen year old's dislike for butterflies or birds, not if she didn't say anything.

Birds, butterflies, mommy, daddy... She took a deep breath and finished her list.

Demons and him.

A chilly finger slid down her spine and she shuddered and hurried to her room. No, she decided. She wouldn't be bringing up any topics on her list. Ever.