“I’ve had some success with manipulating emotions, but that’s much harder to do, and I’ve only managed it with inebriated people or children. My mother said it was more of a subconscious thing, so that might be why I have an easier time making connections like I did in the black market, but I prefer to think that’s my sparkling personality and endless list of factoids to pull from.
“Everyoneloves a factoid.”
Did… did that change anything? For some reason, it felt like it did.
“Why would you lie and say you’re an oracle, then?”
“Because Iaman oracle!” I was surprised how sharp her voice was, sharper than I’d probably ever heard it, but thebiting tone was gone when she spoke again. “Look, oracle is an umbrella term for any number of gifts. My mother had precognitive abilities and was very good at reading people. People thought she could see their inner thoughts or spirit, but it was just a combination of observation and future sight.
“My grandmother was a medium. She could commune and channel the dead. There have been telepaths. Telekinetics.Dreamwalkers. You name it! All different, but alloracles.”
I digested what she was saying, and slowly, my hackles began to descend, even if a part of my mind hissed that I was being far too soft.
“So, your mother wasn’t a true psychic either?”
“I mean, I would say she was, just by the fact that she could see the future. And sure, you could say her understanding and connecting with people wasn’t magical, but it washer.And she taught me toseepeople in ways others don’t put the effort or time into.”
“Why lie?”
“Because people already have their own preconceived notions of everything. What an oracle is, what a psychic is, what an empath is. They don’tgetit, and they have all these ideas that aren’t fair to us or them!” She seemed to be getting wound up all over again, but I felt like I was seeing a more vulnerable side of her, one that had always been hidden behind artifice and a dazzling smile.
“My mom wanted to help people. She started out with providing proof for some college girls who found out they were all roofied at the same bar. It was rocky, and she almost beefed it at first, but in the end, they caught the guy, and the law did what it was supposed to do.”
I was getting a whole lot of information all at once, but instead of overwhelming me, it was a bit like it was settling me.Data was safe. Facts were shields. Surely, if I armed myself with both, the conversation couldn’t be that dangerous.
Unless Cherry was lying again.
And how would I know if she was? The absolute trust I had in her abilities and psychic powers had been obliterated and there was no putting that back together, was there?
“She then moved on to helping domestic violence victims, then infidelity cases—back then, you needed certain legal reasons to get divorced, and you needed proof. Then she helped kids in abusive situations. It wasn’t until she met my father and wanted to settle down that she decided to go commercial.” Cherry gestured to the room around us. “That’s when she turned her home into theHaus de Donmoue.Instead of being a name whispered by those in the know, she became… well, not quite a household name, but certainly a local celebrity.”
“And whereisyour father?” I asked, realizing that I’d never heard her mention the man. Only the late, great Ophelia. And for that matter, I’d never heard anyone else mention him either.
“Eh, they didn’t work out. Different people in different places, you know? It turns out that having a partner who can tell what you’re going to do before you do it puts a heavy strain on a relationship.”
“I… I can see how that would be difficult.”
This was not what I expected; sitting calmly in Cherry’s craft room and discussing her family history. In my mind, there had been more cursing, more her being aggressive and trying to trick me into believing her con.
But no, she was being painfully honest.
Was it a trick?
“So yeah, he spent a lot of time backpacking through Europe, traveling the world. He went on cruises and safaris. He sent letters. He hasn’t written much since she passed, but he didstay with me for a couple of weeks after the funeral. He’s not… neglectful, I would say. But he’s also not…”
“Present?”
She snapped her fingers. “Yes, exactly! That’s exactly what it’s like! And don’t get me wrong, I consider him kind of a friend, but not really someone I’d rely on.”
“I see…”
What else to say about that? How did I even get the conversation back on track?
Oh yeah, sorry about your dead mother and lack of a father figure but can we get back to you being an unrepentant con?
Maybe Chris was right, and I really was too soft.
“So, you lied about being a psychic because your mom lied about being psychic. It’s a made-up human word and you’re all just oracles with different powers?” I said instead. Sometimes it helped to repeat things out loud, but no, it still sounded crazy.