Page 52 of Journey

“And those would be?”

“Well, a bigger place for one. A house that’s closer to the clubhouse and where I can have an art studio would be good.” She sits a little straighter. “Oh, and a big yard. I’d love to get a dog.”

“When you dive in, you dive all the way down to the bottom of the deep end,” I tease.

Wren shrugs. “Go big or go home, I guess. I’m not saying I want to buy a house and get hitched or anything. But we could rent something together. That way, we’d both have an out if things go bad.”

“Ah, there’s the skepticism I’ve grown accustomed to.”

“I don’t mean to be a downer, but this is a big step for both of us. I’ve never opened up to someone like I have with you, and I’d feel better knowing that you’re not trapped. Besides, what happens if one of my alters decides they hate you? I mean, I can’t control that.”

“That won’t happen, but I get what you’re saying.” I rub my fingers over her arm, watching as goosebumps break out across her flesh. “While we’re on the subject… Can you tell me about your alters?”

“That’s a loaded question, but sure, I’ll try.”

“If you’re uncomfort?—”

“It’s not that. I’m just not familiar with all of them. Some I’m aware of, but others I only know about because Dr. Young has told me about them.”

“So, which ones are you aware of?”

“Well, there’s Drew, who’s pretty quiet most of the time and very artistic. He’ll work on my illustrations when he comes to the front,” she explains. “Then there’s Vixen and Mavis. Both of them are sluts, and I’ve had more than one awkward encounter because of them.”

The thought of her out in the wild as a slut sends jealousy coursing through my veins, but I say nothing about it. It’s not her fault. “I met Mavis,” I tell her. “At Ballinger’s. That’s what led me to dig a little deeper into you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. She’s a trip.”

“She’s something, yeah.” Wren shakes her head. “Anyway… There’s Dotty, CJ, Autumn, Mimi, and Rose. I’ve heard all of them at one point or another. And when I come back to the front, it’s pretty easy to tell which of them I am, based on how I’m dressed or what I’m drinking. Sometimes, I look like aschoolmarm and am drinking tea, and other times I’m wearing clothes for a teenage boy and drinking Mt. Dew.”

“That’s wild.”

“Tell me about it,” she huffs. “I hate tea, and I feel like I’m suffocating when I come to wearing a blouse buttoned all the way to the top.”

“Okay, so those are the ones you’re aware of. What about the ones you're not?”

“Dr. Young has told me about Peg, who seems to be like the dorm parent. She rules the roost, so to speak. Then there’s Kirby and Annie, two young kids who are best friends, and?—”

“Aaron.”

Wren’s eyes widen. “Please tell me you only know him because of something you read.”

“Nope,” I admit. “I met him the day you came to the shop to confront me about going to your therapist’s office.”

“Oh my God,” she breathes. “Did he hurt you? Dr. Young told me he’s violent.”

“Wren, sweetheart, look at me. I’m me, and he’s physically you. He didn’t hurt me. He sure tried, though. I think it pissed him off that he couldn’t.”

“That sounds about right. He’s tried to strangle Dr. Young before. I don’t know what specifically triggers him, but I’m never aware of him beyond a voice in my head sometimes.”

“I think he’s dubbed himself your protector. That’s the impression I got. And I don’t think he’s appeared since I told him I was taking over that role.”

“Huh.”

“Maybe that alter has been resolved,” I suggest.

“How do you know about that?”

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