have to know,” I insisted. This was not part of my plan. Heather was a gazillion years old. She had to know.
“I’m not comfortable reversing anything I planted in Missy, June or Jennifer,” she said firmly. “While what I did wasn’t exactly ethical, it didn’t harm them in any way. And it got you out of having to explain the unexplainable.”
“I’m not asking you to do that,” I told her.
“Then what are you asking me to do?” Heather asked, growing frustrated.
I didn’t blame her, but I needed to understand as much as I could before I laid all my cards on the table.
“Hypothetically speaking… could you reverse the thoughts planted in someone’s mind if you hadn’t planted them?”
She stared at me like I was crazy. That was already a given and didn’t bother me a bit.
“No,” she said, standing up, walking back over to the fridge and pulling out a full-sugared Coke.
Heather didn’t drink soda. Ever. I’d clearly rattled her.
“Only the person who put the thoughts in the mind can reverse it… that is, if it can be reversed at all,” she said, wincing as she took a sip of the soda.
“If you drink that you’re going to be wired,” I pointed out.
“Already am,” she said. “Daisy, if you need my help, you have to tell me what’s going on.”
“Fine. I agree,” I said, taking the Coke from her and finishing it off in one enormous swallow. “I think someone implanted the wrong cause of my mother’s death in Gram’s mind. She’s always believed that my mother fell in love with one of the dead she was counseling and followed him into the darkness by committing suicide.”
“Oh my God,” Heather said, scanning the kitchen counter. “Where are the cookies June made?”
“In the cookie jar,” I said.
“Of course they are,” she muttered, bringing the entire jar over to the table and digging in. “So, tell me this. How do you know that’s not true?”
“Because my mother isn’t in the darkness,” I said as Heather practically choked on her cookie.
“Did you ask Gideon?”
I nodded and grabbed a cookie. “And John Travolta.”
“Is she in the light?” Heather asked, trying to piece together the story.
“Daddy Dearest said she’s destined for the light. Kind of sounds like she might be in limbo somewhere.”
“Pardon my sailor mouth, but that’s fucked up,” Heather said flatly. “Never heard of that.”
“You’ve also never heard of a Soul Keeper,” I reminded her.
“True,” she agreed. “Did you try to tell Gram the truth?”
“As much of it as I know,” I confirmed.
“And?” Heather pressed, curious.
“She went kind of robot-zombie on me—got incredibly upset and kept repeating the exact same phrase—Your mama killed herself to follow her lover into the darkness. Suicide. Guaranteed ticket to Hell.”
“Holy shit,” Heather muttered. “And that’s why you called the meeting? To figure out who implanted the wrong information?”
I nodded, feeling all kinds of guilty. “I’m—”
“Daisy, don’t,” Heather said, touching my hand. “I’m going to hope you didn’t think I would do something like that, but I also understand how much Gram means to you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, wishing I hadn’t just downed a soda and five cookies. My stomach roiled.
“Nope. No apologies,” Heather said. “None. If I’m being honest… and I am, I’d do the same.”
I still felt wonky, but I did what I had to do and one of my best friend’s wasn’t furious with me. So far so good.
“Do you know who else can plant memories? Can John Travolta?” I asked.
Heather was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know. But I sure as hell can help you find out. You think this will get us closer to finding Clarissa?”
“I don’t know,” I conceded, twisting my hair in my fingers. I watched Donna the Destroyer chase her tail around the kitchen and hoped I wasn’t doing the same thing. “However, it gets us closer to something.”
“Your logic is…” Heather started.
“Flawed,” I finished for her. “However, it’s a puzzle piece. I’m starting to believe everything might be connected in some kind of farked-up way.”
Heather took in what I said then nodded. “I’ve got your back, Daisy.”
“I love you, Heather.”
“Right back at you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Immortals were prompt. They were not a minute early and they were not a second late.
Heather and Gideon were already here. At two sharp, everyone else I’d invited had arrived on my doorstep. One was bearing a gift and one came with needles. I wasn’t thrilled about the needles, but it would save me a trip to the lab.
“I brought a dish,” Tim announced