VI
It was late at night, when James snuck out of her bedroom (It was horrible and pink and princess-y. She couldn't stand it.) to get a midnight snack. She had after all left her dinner only half eaten, because of a particular bad row with the toddlers.
As she passed the living room she heard them talking.
"I can't ... I just... I just don't know what to do anymore Richard." Toddler 1 blubbered "we tried everything and she still insists on that ridiculous previous life story, she doesn't even react to her name anymore."
"Shh, darling, everything will sort itself out. She just has an over active imagination. It's just a phase. She'll grow out of it." Toddler 2 tried to soothe her.
"But what if she doesn't? What if this is more than a phase? She's been doing this since... since... Oh, I don't know! More than a year at least! What if she's ill!"
"Then we do the best we can, Susan. Just like we always do. How about we go to sleep now and in the morning, when everything doesn't feel so horrible anymore, we look for a good child psychiatrist to take a look at our darling angel."
Oh, hell no! James didn't like that. Not at all. If she had to act like a stupid 5 year old she would. What she wouldn't do was end up in some demented living facility for crazy people. So she would bite her tongue, cut back the cursing and stop talking about her first life (he missed his grandniece and his best friend). She would even stop ignoring the horrid curse of a name the toddlers had inflicted on her.