"Mom! Don't!" Kat yelled, but her mother merely turned and looked up at the balcony where she was standing, smiling sweetly as she gave a little wave. Her father closed the door for her, then turned and smiled up at Kat. He walked around the back of the Roll and opened his door, pausing to blow a kiss....

"Noooooooo!"

Everything slowed to a crawl as the car began to swell with horrible yellow light, the car windows blowing out in a shower of glass and  flames, and the screaming....!

"AAAAAGGGH!" Kat screams, jerking upright in her bed. She buries her face in her hands, sides heaving as she sobs, then began the breathing exercises Dr. Greene taught her so long ago. Breathe deeply, hold it for three beats, then let it out, wait for three beats. Her first few tries were ragged, but eventually she had herself under control.

Looking up, she wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, then fumbled for the lamp. She was in the walk-in closet, barely big enough for  the twin sized bed and a small nightstand, while a box fan strung up on the wire shelving blew air down on her. Tiny Christmas lights were strung along the shelf, to give her a little light when the lamp was off. Uncle Oscar's men had set this up for her, sealing the old doorway, making a new one, adding electrical sockets and filling the walls with insulating foam, making sure her screaming couldn't be heard outside the bedroom. 

"We wouldn't want you to draw attention to yourself," Uncle Oscar had said, patting her hands in a grandfatherly way.

Kat glanced at the monitor showing her the view from the front door security cam before rising, opening the door and steps into the bedroom. Picking out a pair of jean shorts and a polo shirt from the garment rack, she laid them out on the queen sized bed in the middle of the room. A dress form mannequin was sleeping on the far side. She hadn't bothered to ask why it was there.

[hr]

She felt better after her shower, but her eyes were still red. Kat sighs, then washes up her cereal bowl and spoon, putting them in the rack to dry. Uncle Oscar had promised to get her a car, but she needed to do some shopping. There was no hope for it but to ride her bicycle downtown and pick up what she needed, and hope there was enough room in the pannier baskets to hold everything.

Grabbing her purse, sunglasses and a head scarf, she paused to study herself in the small mirror by the door. 

"You are Theodora Clark, from Hickory, Virginia. Your date of birth is June 17, 1999. You're a Gemini," she repeated. "You're a struggling artist. You are Theodora Clark...."