My Name Is Memory by Ann Brashares Read Free Book Online

Lucy sat in the chair opposite. Esme closed her eyes and put out her hands facing upward. Lucy wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do.
    “Give me your hands,” Esme said.
    Lucy did so awkwardly. Madame Esme’s hands were warm and clutched hers with surprising intensity. It was hard to tell with all the makeup, but sitting close and feeling her hands, Lucy sensed that Madame Esme wasn’t much older than she was. How had she found her way into this profession? Lucy wondered. It took a certain amount of nerve.
    Esme closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. As for acting, Lucy decided, it was only so-so. This was what you got for twenty dollars. She tried to shut down another yawn.
    Esme opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. Lucy strained to hear the voices of her friends on the other side of the door. “I’m seeing a flame, red lights, a lot of noise,” Esme finally said. “Is it a school?”
    “I don’t know,” Lucy said. She knew she was tired and grumpy, but she didn’t feel like doing the work here.
    “It feels like a school,” Esme said. “A lot of people rushing around, but you are alone.”
    Lucy was ready for this. You feel alone in a crowd. You are shyer than people think. This was your basic psychic bait.
    Madame Esme’s eyes were twitching under her lids, but they became still. Her expression changed.
    “You aren’t alone. He is there with you.”
    “Okay.” Lucy wondered if they were getting to the romantic wish-fulfillment part.
    “He has been waiting for you. Not only now, but for a long time.” Esme was quiet for a while. The silence stretched out, and Lucy wondered if maybe that was it. But then Esme spoke again, and this time her voice was different, lower and more intense.
    “You wouldn’t listen to him.”
    “I’m sorry?” Lucy said politely.
    “He was trying to tell you something. He needed you then. Why didn’t you listen?” The voice was higher now, and plaintive.
    “Listen to who?” Lucy cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what you are talking about.”
    “At the dance. The party. Something like that. I feel that you were scared. But still.” Esme was squeezing her hands a bit harder than Lucy liked.
    Lucy didn’t especially want to know what Esme was talking about. Esme didn’t know what Esme was talking about. She was just fishing. Saying standard stuff and trying to get Lucy to bite on something.
    “You should have listened.”
    “To what?” Was a psychic supposed to be giving opinions?
    “What he told you.” Esme’s voice was deeper and stranger. Her trance was getting more convincing. She was warmed up, obviously. Lucy had a sadistic impulse to kick her under the table. “Because he loved you.”
    “Who loved me?” Psychics never named names. They waited for you to tell them.
    “Daniel,” she said.
    Lucy sat back. She made herself breathe. “Who?”
    “Daniel.”
    “Okay,” she said slowly. She sat up straight and felt the chair creak and reset. What did this woman know about her? Did she know them from school, somehow? Had Marnie somehow briefed her?
    “Daniel wanted you to remember. He kissed you, and you did remember for a moment, didn’t you? But you ran away.”
    Marnie couldn’t have told her that. No one could have. Lucy felt a wave of fear followed by a wave of nausea as her mind raced to find a rational explanation. She didn’t want to say anything more. She wanted it to be over, but Esme had not finished with her.
    “You said you’d try. When you were Constance you promised you’d remember, but you turned your back on yourself. You wouldn’t even try.”
    Lucy felt tears burning in her eyes. Two years ago she’d packed that night away. She’d sealed it up carefully and tightly. How could anyone have known about it?
    “He was lonely. You know that. And you are Sophia, his great love, and you said you’d try.”
    “What am I supposed to try to