After a few sips of chamomile and lemon, I’m finally able to make my voice work.
“Did you see him?”
Honey gives me a funny look. “See who, Sugar Bee?”
“I thought I saw someone. In the dark.”
She gets up and goes to the window, then peers out into the night and comes back to the table, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine anyone would be out and about with a storm like this comin’ on.”
For a few minutes, Honey just sits across from me in her nightgown, watching me sip my tea. Finally she says, “Troubles are always heavier when you carry them alone, Grey.”
I don’t meet her eyes. I’m busy counting the tiny pink flowers on the white tablecloth.
She sighs. “Maybe it’s too hard on you, being here this summer.”
I jerk my head up. “No. I need to be here.”
“Then you need to be honest with me.” Honey’s voice is firm. But also familiar and warm. Like the old pink robe draped around my shoulders. “You’ve been seeing Elora, haven’t you?”
It seems pointless to keep lying, so I nod.
Honey takes a deep breath and leans back in her chair. But she doesn’t look surprised.
“Tell me about it,” she says. And suddenly, I want to.
“It’s not really that I’m seeing her. More like I am her.” I struggle for the right words to explain it. “Like I’m seeing what she saw that night. But it’s just bits and pieces. I can’t make any sense of it.”
“How long has this been going on?” Honey asks, and I shrug.
“A little while.”
“Since you got here?”
I shake my head. “It started before that.”
“Oh, Grey.” Honey reaches for my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure, I guess. And I didn’t want it to be real. I was hoping it would go away.”
Honey nods like she understands. “Clairvoyance. The ability to see beyond eyesight. Your great-grandmother was clairvoyant. Sometimes she couldn’t say exactly whether she saw things or just felt them clear enough that it was like she saw them.”
“Is that how it is for you, too?” I ask.
“No.” Honey shakes her head. “I’m a medium, not a see-er. I relay information from those who have crossed over. That’s all I can do. I only know what the spirits choose to share with me. But clairvoyants are different. They just know things – about the past or the future – all on their own.”
The rain beats down on the roof, and thunder rumbles long and low.
“I don’t want to know things.”
“You can ignore it, but that won’t make it stop.” Honey takes a sip of her tea. “Our gifts can be heavy burdens to bear.”
“Seems more like a curse than a gift,” I mumble.
“It’s a hard way to go through life. Being different. Having power that doesn’t come with any instruction book.” Honey glances toward the picture frame on the wall. The one with the photo of my mom and me. “Too hard, sometimes. For some people.”
I want to ask her what she means. What it has to do with my mother. But I’m afraid she won’t tell me.
Or that she will.
“I’ve never had the gift before,” I say. “Why now?”
“Oh, you’ve always had it, Sugar Bee.” Honey gives me a little smile. “Everyone has some kind of psychic gift. It’s just that some people are able to unwrap their gifts more easily than others. It’s like singing. Everyone is born with the ability to sing, but not everyone joins the church choir.”
“So why is it coming out now?”
“Because now you need to know what happened to Elora. And sometimes, when everything else fails us, we have to rely on those gifts we’ve kept buried deep inside ourselves.” She squeezes my hand. “It doesn’t surprise me. You two have always been so connected.”
Hurt washes over me like the rain running off the roof outside the kitchen window.
“It wasn’t like that any more. The way it used to be. Between Elora and me.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Something happened last summer.”
Honey shakes her head. “Twin-flame relationships are magnetic,” she says. “They’re pure white-hot energy. Push and pull. Attract and repel. They can be explosive. Dangerous, even.”
I’ve heard all this before, but I don’t have the will to interrupt. “Sometimes things get too intense for one of you to handle.