Acts of Violet(90)
“Then I heard a rumble overhead.
“I started running and screaming Violet’s name. There was another rumble, a louder one, and the tunnel shook, and I was knocked off balance.
“When I stood up, this wall of boulders came crashing maybe ten feet ahead of me. It was the loudest thing I’d ever heard, like magnified thunder. I scrambled backward on my hands and feet like a crab, screaming my head off, but there were huge rocks raining down behind me, too. I had nowhere to go. I kept yelling for Violet, but I was drowned out by all the noise and blinded by all the dust being kicked up.
“There’s no way I can convey how petrified I was.
“When the dust settled, I checked to see if there were any spaces I could squeeze through, but the tunnel was completely blocked. In front of me and behind me. And Violet wasn’t answering my screams. Nobody was.
“I felt another wave of shaking come on, but this time it wasn’t the tunnel, it was my body convulsing. There was more noise but this time it sounded like jet propellers roaring inside my head.
“I must’ve passed out. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the tunnel but in my bed, at home. It had been a dream, right? Except I never remembered any of my dreams. And I was wearing the same thing I had on when Violet and I went exploring. And I was covered in scrapes and bruises. When I tried to get out of bed, I collapsed on the floor beside it.
“Mom and Dad were still at work, but Violet must’ve heard me, because she rushed upstairs. She shrieked when she saw me. How did I get home? How did I escape from the tunnel? I had no idea.
“It hadn’t been a dream.
“There was a search going on for me. I’d been missing for two days. Violet had been downstairs watching TV, there was no way I could’ve just reappeared like that. But I did.
“Violet said I had to go back to the tunnels and be found by rescuers. Otherwise, everyone would think we were lying, and we’d get in trouble—even as a twelve-year-old, she understood the importance of optics.
“I don’t know how I let her talk me into going back there, but I did, and it was a nightmarish wait, expecting the tunnel would collapse on me any second. I was finally ‘found’ an hour later.
“When they asked where I’d been for the last two days, I said I didn’t know. I still don’t know.”
My lips and throat are parched from all the talking. I gulp down my tea. It’s lukewarm and too sweet and just what I need right now.
Gabriel and Quinn wear matching stunned expressions, but Antoinette’s is more fascinated and a bit bemused.
“Incredible,” she says, removing her glasses and massaging the bridge of her nose. “I haven’t come across many examples of this happening at such a young age.”
“But you’ve heard of this happening before?” I ask. “I’m still not convinced it wasn’t a hell of a vivid hallucination.”
“Come off it, Sasha.” Her bluntness startles me. “It wasn’t a one-time incident, was it? Cameron showed me the video footage. You might as well share the rest.”
So I do. I tell them about my sleepy-time visits to the Witkin: waking up outside of it, then onstage inside, then appearing impossibly in the subbasement.
And since this geyser of confessions is running full blast, I explain it’s more than the twos, I’m also coming across swans everywhere, but even that’s not all of it, and I tell them about the photo of Sally at the salon that kind of … maybe … no, certainly and unquestionably captured my sister in the background.
“I’ve tried to tell myself it was one of those dumb #violetisback photos,” I say. “But I didn’t mix up Instagram with my photo app, and Sally saw it first—it was clearly Sally with her rainbow hair … and Violet reflected in the mirror behind her. Let’s say, for a second, I saw who I think I saw. What did I actually see? I don’t believe in ghosts, but was it a ghost? Are you sure you’re not trying to get me to communicate with the dead here?” My breath catches in my throat at the thought of Violet being … I can’t bear to think of it. But the question is already out there.
Antoinette picks up a biscuit as she considers the question, nibbling the edge of it like a rabbit. “I don’t think you saw a ghost. Like I said in my interview with Cameron, my contact with Violet, while brief, did not feel like communicating with someone deceased. I think you got a glimpse into…”
I scoff. “You’re going to say another dimension, aren’t you?”
“I was trying to think of a way to put it that you wouldn’t be so derisive of, but that ship has sailed.” She brushes some crumbs off her velvet jacket. “For what it’s worth, I realize how preposterous this all sounds, and how challenging it is for the mind to accept such ideas. It’s easy to dismiss as sheer lunacy.”
“Fortunately, I’ve been seeing a nice therapist named Renatta, who assures me I haven’t crossed the line into lunacy just yet.”
“How is that going?” Gabriel asks. “Is she helping?”
One of my shoulders rises in a half-shrug. “I didn’t think so at first, but she says it’s a process, so I’m going with it. Talking about things doesn’t always make them better. But my strategy of not talking about them at all wasn’t working, so it was time to try something new.” I turn to Antoinette. “So. What does it all mean?”