Liberty leveled a firm gaze on her friend. “If you say so.”
Daisy pointed at her. “The way I see you skirt around him in the hall and avoid standing too close to him says he more than just bores you. I think he kind of bothers you too on some level.”
Liberty did her best to dismiss her friend’s words, but they rang true to some degree. “Maybe, but he’s basically harmless. Just boring.”
Daisy did her best to hide her amusement. “I still can’t believe they stuck you in another department of the university as a teacher’s assistant. Why did they pick Russian literature for you? It’s not your major.”
“Because Dr. Pasternak’s other assistant left and I took the class as an undergrad,” grumbled Liberty. “Curse the advisor who told me to use it as a fill-in for my required language arts credits. I’ve now had to sit through a discussion on War and Peace twice. I’m sure this is a new form of torture. No cages and medical testing. Just a lot of Tolstoy. Also, while I’m at it, curse the person who thought Dr. Pasternak should be the professor in charge of the Slavic and East European studies master’s program. Couldn’t they have hired someone with a personality?”
Daisy lifted her arm, pretending to look at a watch on her wrist. “Ms. Mansfield, class started seventeen seconds ago,” she said in a deadpan voice.
It was Liberty’s turn to laugh, and laugh she did. Loudly. “Spot on,” Liberty said.
She grinned. “Had I not been in the hall to hear it, I’m not sure I’d have believed anyone could be that particular about time.”
“I don’t think he’s been late a day in his life,” said Liberty. “And I’m pretty sure his suit jackets are all from when he first started teaching. On a good note, they’re sort of back in style now thanks to the hipster craze.”
Daisy laughed so hard she teared up. “Does he still eat a bag of pistachios and then pick at his teeth while he’s in his office?”
Liberty made a gagging motion. “Yes. I used to like pistachios. Now I can’t even stand the smell of them.”
“Can’t really blame you,” she said, locking gazes with Liberty. “I know you hate being his teaching assistant for the rest of the semester, but we don’t have much left of it, thankfully. Bright side is, it’s almost over.”
“Look at how positive you are,” Liberty said. “See? You bring a sunny outlook to the table. That’s useful.”
“Make fun of me all you want,” said Daisy. “I’m allowed to worry and want you and Isobel safe. You’re like sisters to me.”
Liberty licked her lower lip. “I know, and you’re like one to me too, but we don’t live in the same world everyone else does. We know there is a dark, seedy underbelly. One most don’t know about. We also know that some of us are ticking time bombs. I’m dangerous, and we need answers.”
“You’re not dangerous,” protested Daisy.
“I am,” returned Liberty. “You know what I’ve done. What I’m capable of.”
“None of that was your fault,” Daisy insisted. “None of it.”
Liberty lifted her hand and stared at it. “What I can do when I lose control, it’s terrifying. I need answers. So does Isobel. You know she struggles too.”
“I worry, that’s all.” Daisy twisted more to face Liberty. “I think you’re right. We’re close to figuring it out. It’s been an emotional roller coaster. You know how I am. I’m either in tears or over the moon.”
It was funny because it was accurate. Daisy’s emotional scale tended to range between the two settings.
Liberty stared up at the ceiling as nervous energy built in her.
“Libs, I know that look,” said Daisy with a sigh. “It’s the look you get before you go on a baking spree. Anytime you’re anxious, we end up with so many baked goods we could open a shop or something.”
“I’m not that bad,” argued Liberty before realizing she was indeed that bad.
Daisy snorted. “Okay. Sure you aren’t. I like chocolate cake by the way—for when you’re not-that-bad later today. It freezes well. Be sure to save me some.”
“Noted.” Liberty sat up and sighed, reflecting on her dream, specifically the male voice she’d heard. “I wish I could remember more about our past.”
Daisy watched her. “Of the three of us, you remember the least. Do you think it’s because you don’t want to remember? What we went through wasn’t good. Something extra horrific happened to you at some point during it all.”
Liberty touched the scars on her face and lowered her gaze. “You think I don’t want to remember it all because it will mean I’ll remember how this happened?”
“They’re barely visible anymore, Libs.” Daisy took hold of Liberty’s wrist and drew her hand away from her face. “I’m saying that trauma can do a lot of things to a person. And sometimes, the mind does what it has to in order to get by. Also, I love you.”
With a groan, Liberty fell back onto her pillow. “Have I mentioned how much I’m not a fan of having you analyze me?”
Daisy smiled. “Yes. But it’s kind of my nature.”
It was also what Daisy wanted to do for a living. Currently, she was working on her PsyD (doctor of psychology) and interning at a local inpatient treatment center under the watchful eye of a psychologist. She was set to attend a conference with her coworkers that was going to last a week.
Liberty glanced at her friend. “Do your best to avoid analyzing Isobel when she drops you at the airport later today. You know how she gets.”
“That girl has more issues than Cosmopolitan,” said Daisy.
Laughing, Liberty nodded. “Are you supposed to say that?”
“Probably not,” replied Daisy with a wink. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“One of many.”
“I want in on the secret,” said a tall woman from the open doorway. She wore a black tank top with matching exercise pants. A red sports bra showed partially from under her shirt. If she owned
