"Wow."

"Uh huh."

Goosebumps ran across my arms. The power had shut off twenty minutes ago, but Rosalind and I hardly noticed. We were in her enormous room, sitting across each other in lounge chairs.

"So, your mom, she's had that gift all her life?" I asked. We had both gotten two Cokes out of the mini fridge and I was gulping mine down as fast as I could.

"I wouldn't call it a gift. But, yeah, she has. That's her job."

"Does she own some sort of store or something?"

Rosalind glared. "Oh no. She invites people right into our house and practices 'her talent' right where Danny can see."

Somehow, being cooped up in Rosalind's room relaxed me. Ittruely was a large place. She had a walk-in closet and a seperate room attached for a desk and bookshelves. I imagined it to be her own little apartment. But everywhere I looked I saw Jess. In Rosalind's taste of decorating, in jewelry lying on the dresser. Everything.

"Does Danielle know what your mom does?"

The girl shook her head. "No. Dad and I have tried to shield her from it. But, I think she somehow knows."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because, all her life all she's ever talked about was getting out of Barbank. She wants a completely different lifestyle. My mom hates it when she talks about it, she wants Danny to stay here."

My thoughts wondered unitentionally. As Rosalind was telling me more about Dann'y hopes, I noticed a hairbrush lying on one of her nightstands.

Jess used to have the same brush. I remembered it so clearly. The first holiday I spent with her, she had accidently left her brush at her parents. She was so angry with herself, that I went two hours away and got it back.

When I handed it to her, she cried. That was the first time I knew I'd truely do anything for her. Even something as small as getting her brush back.

"Are you alright?" Rosalind asked, pushing a strand of hair back and attempting to get my attention back.

"Wha- Oh yeah, I'm fine," I replied, forcing my eyes away from the object.

Rosalind smiled. "No, you're not. C'mon, I just spilled my life story about my mom to you, the least you could do is tell me why you're acting so distracted."

Sighing, I put my head down. "My girlfriend, Jess died about about four months ago. And I haven't exactly been able to move on yet."

"Oh my goodness. I'm so sorry. How'd she go?"

I closed my eyes, wishing she hadn't asked me that question. "She was murdered."

I briefly saw Rosalind's eyes grow wider. Her face paled alittle. "Sam, that's terrible. Please tell me you found the bastard and he's sitting in some jail cell, rotting."

I felt myself shaking my head. "No."

A few more minutes pass in silence. I knew Rosalind was racking her brain, trying to come up with something to say. Anything to make me feel better. But we both knew there was nothing you could say to take the hurt away.

"Is that why you're still not at college? Because you couldn't go back after her death?"

I hadn't expected that question. "Well, sorta. Right now it's more important I take care of my big brother. He's looking for my dad. I decided to help him out."

"I know that situation."

"What do you mean?"

"I decided to drop out when my dad died...there was no way I was going to let my mom take care of Danny alone."

I frowned. "So, you put your life on hold for your sister?"

"It's not that hard to believe, you stopped your life for Dean."

The room became cold suddenly. Rosalind's words cut at my heart. What she said was true, I had stopped everything for Dean. And there were times when I regretted it. But he needed me and that was all I needed to go through with it.

I heard soft bumps and thuds coming from downstairs, but I paid no attention. It was most likely Cassandra. What Rosalind told me freaked me out. The woman was a medium; able to talk to the dead, able to tell people all they've ever wanted to know about their deceased loved ones.

Jessica. Once more her face popped into my head. Could Cassandra talk to Jess? The idea hadn't even dawned on me until that moment. How bad would it screw me up though? I wanted more than anything in my life to be able to apologize to her, to tell her I didn't mean for her to get hurt, for her to know I still loved her.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" I asked impatiently. The girl had a knack for interrupting my thoughts at the deepest times.

"Will you promise me that?"

"Um, can you repeat, I missed it."

Rosaling looked slightly annoyed. "Promise me you won't go asking my mother to talk to your girlfriend."

"Uh, sure. But can I ask why?" And just like that my momentary glimpse of hope was cut to peices. The oppurtunity arose, and then dashed away before I could grasp it.

"Because, I've had to watch tons of people go into that room, so full of hope that they'd finally get closuer. But when they walk back, usually their worse off. They change when they're in there. Once people die, Sam, you're not meant to speak with them again."

-------

"Well Dean?" Cassandra's voice pounded in my ears. Every detail of the room looked different than when I first came in. Before, I was just a guy looking for answers to why the owner of the place was so different. But after hearing my mother's name, I changed. Twenty two years of pain and questions and anger could be gone from one woman.

I looked over my shoulder, not daring to turn around. Although it was useless. The power had blown, I couldn't see a damn thing.

"She's been following you and your brother since I met you. Her and..oh what's her name. Oh! Yes, yes...her and Jess have become real close. They watch over you two boys like hawks."

My heart stopped once more. I could understand how she got Mary, we'd mentioned our mother being dead at dinner, she might've found out her name by Sam. But I knew he hadn't told her about Jessica. That's a subject that stayed between us two.

Cassandra noticed my reaction. I hated being in the dark, I couldn't tell where the bitch was.

"Your mother talks about you all the time Dean. She loves you and Sam so much."

"You're a liar!" I yelled. I didn't scream it, but it was loud enough for someone in the next room to hear.

"Oh I am? Am I?" Cassandra pouted. I could feel her presense near me, almost felt her breath on my arm. "Well why don't you sit down, and I'll show you how much of a liar I am."

Her hand grasped my arm. I snatched it back quickly, taking another step towards the door. "Don't you dare touch me."

I heard her sigh, could figure out her impatience from her tone of voice. "Dean Winchester, your mother says you hunt evil things for a living, so I know you gotta believe in mediums and physcics and people with powers. So why don't you believe me?"

"Stop saying things about my mom!" This time I didn't try to stay quiet, nor leave out the hint of fear in my voice.

"Fine, you still have doubts, even after I told you about Jess, I guess I'll have to resort to the whole story-telling act. Which...by the way, I hate."

"Oh, well sorry to put you out like that," I commented snidely.

"You remember how I laughed so hard at dinner tonight?"

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of an answer.

"When you were young, before the fire, do you remember when your parents held that party. The one where everyone used the fine china and you had to wear that suit?"

I stood stock still, listening.

"Before the party, your mother told you all about it. You asked her why everyone needed all those different forks and glasses and knives. Your mom chuckled and explained to youthey were all so you could look nice while eating. Then you told you'd never look nice. And if you ever became one of those important people you'd make sure everyone ate finger foods, no forks. Man, you were so dead set on doing that, your mother couldn't help but die laughing. For the next week you didn't get anything but finger foods for lunch. So when your mom saw your manners with us, she was so terribly embarrased."

The memory of what I just heard whirled through my brain. Once Cassandra mentioned the story, I remembered it perfectly. I was furious at having to figure out what fork to use for the salad and which one for the actual meal. It was the beginning of my love for fast food restraunts. But how the hell did she know that.

There was only one right answer.

She really was a medium. And really could talk to my mother.

After waiting past the alloted time slot to answer, I sat down on the floor. My vision of my mother was blurry. It'd had been too long. But I could see her smile. The one she always used with me. The one that showed me just how much she loved me.

I dreamed of her smiling sometimes. Watching us sleep, looking down at Sam and I in our dingy hotel beds, and showing her beautiful white teeth. Like she was actually proud of us.

"Did I really embarrass her?"

Cassandra let out a breath. "Guess this means you believe me now?"

I allowed the woman to touch me. Allowed her to drag me to the couch. Allowed her sit next to me and say, "We've got a lot of time to make up."