When Kassie and I turned sixteen, the county came in and took our mother away. I still don’t know all the details of what happened that day, but I do know they took her away kicking and screaming. That I recall vividly. She kept screaming to anyone who could hear her, that it was all Kassie’s fault. I never understood what she meant by that. To this day, I still don’t understand. And poor Kassie never forgot that moment. It’s as if it’s tattooed on her soul. My mother always labeled Kassie the evil one, the devil child, the child with no future. Why a mother would do that to her child, I’ll never know.
I tried my best to console Kassie as we were tossed into foster home after foster home for the next two years. Our relatives refused to take both of us, and demanded the county split us up so I could live with them and Kassie remain in the foster system. I despised them for that. I fought to stay with Kassie. I fought hard to keep us together; even if she had turned into a devil of a teen, she was still my sister. I wish I could have gotten her help back then when she needed it the most. Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did.
“ABOUT TIME! OKAY. OFF record. I have to say this ... Damn! You... look... stunning!” Jonah exclaimed as his jaw dropped. I just shook my head and grinned as I slowly walked down the stairs, holding the train of my red gown in my right hand and the railing in the other. It had been a long time since I had not only worn a gown, but heels. I had to get used to walking in them again.
I reached the bottom step and held my hand out. “Shall we, Mr. Hartman?” I smiled as Jonah stood there in some sort of trance. I just grinned. All I could think about was Corbin, and how his jaw had dropped the exact same way when he saw me in a similar red gown almost a decade ago.
“We shall,” he nodded as he grabbed my hand, and led me out the front door and down to the awaiting limo.
Jonah Hartman was one of the psychiatrists from the hospital. Since I was now an outpatient, he was in charge of supervising and making sure my adjustment back into society was going well. He knew that my meeting my sister after all these years could potentially cause a relapse in my recovery. And since I was hell-bent on going, and it was against the outpatient policy to attend any such public events alone, he offered to come with. I didn’t object. He knew I would break all rules to attend this event even if he didn’t come with.
Jonah was in his late thirties. He was tan, handsome, and muscular. If you talked with most the other nurses at the hospital, they would tell you he resembled an exotic Chippendale dancer. His black hair was beginning to show some gray. And his dark brown eyes were, I have to admit, mesmerizing at times. He looked to me like he should have been a coach or taken up football or some other active sport instead of sitting behind a desk all day long. Carrying around a briefcase and clipboard didn’t suit him well. But he was dedicated to his career. He was an amazing psychiatrist. Different from all the others I’d met over the last few years.
When I first met Jonah, he convinced me that I could tell him the truth. So after a good year of his coaxing, I did. I told him how Kassie had attacked me and switched places with me in the hospital. I told him everything not once, not twice, but many times. The same story. The same way each time. I never left anything out or changed my story even a tiny bit. He made me feel like he would believe me. He acted as if he wanted to believe me. But just like the others before him, he prescribed more medication to make me come to my senses. It was a lost cause. I was certain of it. No one would listen to me. No matter how hard I tried, everyone would hear me but no one would listen. Not even Jonah. Not even to this day. He still called me Kassie because, to him, that’s who I was.
“WOW, THIS IS AN IMPRESSIVE painting!” Jonah marveled as he stood beside me. “It’s so real. In all reality, it looks like an actual photograph. Look at that detail!” He stood as close as he could to the painting.
“You like it?” I whispered to him with a grin. I was in awe that he liked my paintings so much. It actually gave me a little bit of strength, something I needed for today. A little confirmation that I was where I needed to be, doing what needed to be done.
“Like it? I’m in love with it. So far, it’s the best I’ve seen. I’m serious,” he confirmed as he studied the painting.
“Do you see the prices on these paintings?” I gasped. “Alaina is asking $17,000 for this one alone.” I had to bite my tongue as I called her Alaina. I couldn’t wait to call her by Kassie, her real name.
“Just look at the detail put into it. There are seriously no words to express her talent. It’s absolutely beautiful. Well worth, if not more, than the asking price.” He paused for a few seconds. “In a way, it reminds me of you,” he said quietly as he stared at
