Page 5 of Devotion

The memory evaporates, and I see my father in the present again, adding water to the coffee pot before hittingstart.He notices me staring and flashes a weary smile. I smile back but can’t deny that I’m worried. It can’t be healthy for him to sink back into that abyss, but he’s been so determined to finish this book. One based on his experiences with Maxwell, a patient who impacted my father’s life like no other, right up until the man’s death several years ago.

“Promise me you won’t work too hard.”

Dad nods. “Promise. Now hurry. You’ve got lives to change, don’t you?”

A laugh slips out as I exit, but I can’t ignore the stark difference between how my fatherviews my job versus Martinez’s thoughts on it. Sure, yes, we all know it’s complete bullshit, but if anyone gets why I morph into Madam Divina Dreamweaver at night, it should be Martinez.

Being a forensic photographer brings me nose-to-nose with death nearly every day. And after two years in, I’m sometimes uncomfortable with howcomfortableI am with the darkness. So, if I’ve found something that lets a little light in, why not let me have that without giving me shit about it? The point is, it’s too easy to not be a dick about it for me to excuse that that’s exactly what Martinez is sometimes.

King Dick.

And I don’t mean that in any sort of flattering light whatsoever.

I fumble with the knob to my apartment because my hands are loaded, but I manage to get inside without dropping anything. Shockingly. The door slams behind me when I nudge it with my foot, setting my food down on the desk to answer a text.

Dad: Forgot to ask, you remembered your meds, right?

Layla: Always do.

I clear my throat when I acknowledge the lie, but he doesn’t need to know about last night.

Dad: Good. Have fun, sweetheart.

I smile at the message, then set the phone aside to get set up. I turn on the TV and fire up the episode ofI Love LucyI left off on last time, then mute the volume. I don’t need to hear the words, but the onscreen movement keeps me company. My desk chair creaks a little when I drop down into it, prop my feet up on the desk, then reach for my gold, fortune teller turban that serves no purpose other than to make me laugh when I catch my reflection in the computer screen. But when I pick up my headset, something near the far wall of my room catches my eye. Something small and dark on the floor near the vent.

I place my headset back on the rack and cross the room, stooping down once I’m close enough to grab what stole my attention a moment ago. A small screw. I pick it up to examine it closer, realizing it’s somehow popped out of the vent. For the next few seconds, I rack my brain, trying to remember if I’ve recently bumped it or pushed something against it that might’ve snagged it out, but I quickly get bored with the investigation and just twist it back into place.

This time, when I drop down in front of my computer again, I slip on the headset and finish logging into the system. It only takes about thirty seconds after that for a long tone to beep in my ear, indicating the arrival of my first call for the night. All of a sudden, I’m no longer Layla Bennett, because the madam has officially entered the room.

“Good evening, fellow seeker. I’m Madam Divina Dreamweaver, your guide through the spirit realm. How can I help?”

“Yeah, hi. I’m Glenn. Thanks for taking my call.”

“Of course. What can I do for you, Glenn?”

There’s a short pause while he clears his throat, and I glance toward the TV while I wait.

“Well, I’m hoping you can give me a bit of romantic insight. There’s a girl,” he says, and I smile a little. “I’m into her, but I can’t seem to decide if it’s time to settle down with her or not.”

I rock back in my chair and nearly fall out of it when I lean too far. After a quick maneuver to avoid a spill, I clear my throat and focus on the call again.

“Well, Glenn, I suppose the first thing I should know is whetheryousee a reason you shouldn’t settle down with her.”

He’s quiet. Too quiet.

“Hello? Still with me, buddy?”

“I—yes,” he answers, and my eyes narrow, wondering what he’s not saying. “You see, the thing is, I’m hesitant because… she’s… well… she’s invisible. To everyone but me, of course,” he rushes to add, causing my eyes to roll to the back of my head.

You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“Of course,” I echo, sounding as non-judgmental as I can manage under these circumstances. But this is the job. And if Glenn needs me to help him navigate a romance between him and his invisible girlfriend, then dammit, that’s what I’m going to do.

I rock back again, being more cautious this time, but I need to get comfortable. Because if this first call is any indication of what’s to come, it’s about to be a long fucking night.

3

Damien

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