Gradually, the thunder subsided. The quiet made it too easy to think, which she didn’t like to do. Thinking gave the memories she’d buried deep room to force their way into her consciousness. She pushed them back, almost physically, to the corners of her mind.

She uncurled herself from the tight ball she’d wrapped herself in. Rising from the bed, she stepped slowly toward the brass floor mirror. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls past her shoulders. Her large amber eyes glistened. Dark lashes, long and thick, fluttered above them. Delicate features gave her face a kind of china doll beauty. Stunning, she was often called. But what did it matter?

Discouraged, she walked away from her reflection. No one understood her depression. After all, she had everything a woman could want. Only twenty-two years old, she was a successful model married to an incredibly handsome and equally successful advertising agent. So what was her problem? Why did her moods change drastically from one moment to the next?

How could she explain a past that never happened was now haunting her?

The sound of the doorbell broke into her thoughts. She chose to ignore it, a habit she’d been practicing increasingly more often. She turned back to the mirror, studying herself more intensely. She saw the sparkling amber eyes looking back. But within those eyes she saw something no one else did. Emptiness. Sadness. A fear that gripped her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

She jerked away from her reflection. Memories flashed like ten-second movie blips. Images. Voices. Never anything specific. Just broken pieces of a distorted puzzle. Her past. It forever haunted her. But remember, it isn’t real.