“Because when he had the chance, he didn’t do it. When James was here, he said he didn’t want to take me to Judaculla because he knew what life would be like for me there. He used the fading on me, tried to make me forget him. Twice,” I said. “I know this all sounds crazy, and maybe it is. Maybe I’m crazy. But through it all, the one thing I know to be true is that James wouldn’t hurt me. Otherwise, he would have taken me to Judaculla the first chance he had.”

“And what about you?” she asked.

“I love him,” I said.

Anamae’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered this. “How do you know that?” she asked. “I mean, if this whole thing was to trick you into going with him, how do you know if you really love him, or if he’s just made you believe you do?”

“I guess I don’t,” I said. “The dreams brought us together. Yes, when I met James, I already felt like I knew him. But what we had was different than the way the other girls at The House felt about their One. Those girls were like actors in some movie. They all said the right words, but I could tell they didn’t know what real love is.”

Calla popped into my mind, and I swallowed hard. I’d easily believed James when he said Calla and Haden were the exception. I’d have to keep believing that was the case.

“I don’t know the exact moment, but at some point, I fell in love with James. Beyond whatever magic he may have used on me. No matter what’s happened since, I have to get back to him as soon as I can.”

To her credit, Anamae didn’t even blink when the cliché fell from my lips.

“I’ll die without him.”

I watched as she pondered all I’d said to her, waiting to hear if she believed me. Really believed me, or if she would just say she did. In the end, her only question confirmed my belief that in any reality, Anamae was still Anamae.

“So…” She wagged her eyebrows. “What’s he like?”

I rolled my eyes, but obliged her. Anamae shrieked in delight with each description I gave. “Tall. Wavy brown hair. Gorgeous gray eyes.”

“Too bad you don’t have a pic,” she said, laughing.

Anamae had done remarkably well listening to a story that would have anyone else rushing me to the nearest hospital for an MRI. Questions would be raised again about possible complications from the head injury I’d sustained in the car accident, and I’d probably be put back on a sedative if that happened.

“What’s next?” she asked gently.

“Nothing,” I said. “I can’t do anything until the next full moon.”

A puzzled expression filled her face.