"Relax, Whit. I'm talking about how you frequently use body language to communicate. It is especially obvious with Blair. It's like you two speak a silent sign language," Reid answered slowly. "In Africa, you communicated fairly easily with people who did not speak English and I rarely translated."

Dr. West told me empaths were masters of communication and used body language to read people. I had never given much thought about my own. I shrugged. "I feel inept with words so maybe that's how I compensate."

"Sometimes I notice it with people who are in a country that is not their native tongue but you do it all the time. It's interesting to me, that's all. But what do you mean you are not good with words?" Reid questioned. We were in front of Mr. Parks' house, and I was not going to miss an opportunity to find out more information again.

I took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I mean I should have used WORDS and asked you directly about Karen. If I had put in the effort, I could have used WORDS to explain there is something about her that makes me wary. I was afraid I would bungle this conversation so I stayed silent and my perception about the two of you only got worse. There were already rumors and then other people told me Karen was still in love with you. When I watched the two of you together, you were always looking out for her and it was beyond friendly politeness. She had some kind of hold on you, and when I found out she was Cloccan, my fear got worse. That's why Blair put this plan into motion; because Eileen cautioned Blair not to tell me too much, so she showed me instead." I took a gulp of air and continued, "I'm not sure what I hate more-admitting this aloud or confessing that I am afraid my intuition is mediocre."

The feeling of vulnerability and exposure hung heavily upon me like a cold, wet towel. I wanted to remove myself from the experience and my eyes searched for an exit. Reid grabbed my other hand and turned me toward him instead.

His eyes had a tender gentleness as I faced him. "Whit, the Latin root of the word intuition is tuere and it means to guard or to protect. If you will let me explain, I think you will have renewed faith in your intuition, but these words are not for the open air. Come on, let's get inside." He wrapped his arm around me and we followed the winding path of large stones to the dojo.

Inside, Reid said, "Whitney, Eileen is correct that Cloccans are not to tell someone outside the tribe about a member, so the way around that commandment is to help someone discover the information as Blair did tonight. I felt you in my mind while I was thinking about Karen so I a.s.sumed you knew she was my cousin. Next time you are not certain of something, I want you to trust me enough to ask me." The warmth of his honesty seemed to heat my veins and I blushed with the embarra.s.sed realization he regarded my stoicism as a lack of trust.

"It's not that I didn't trust you, Reid. It's that I did not trust myself to handle news I was afraid I couldn't bear to hear. Sometimes, it is hard to survive being a trained survivor. I expect myself to be strong all the time, and seeking support can be my greatest challenge. Ask Blair and she will tell you I'm an equal opportunity offender with this problem. I accidentally did it to her the night we got back." Blair's angry and hurt face as she entered the dojo after finding my note came floating into my mind. I could have averted that if I had confided in her. I hadn't meant to hurt Blair or Reid and these were mistakes I needed to stop repeating.

"I understand that people have a bad habit of asking a lot from the strong and nothing from the weak. But, Whitney, I'm not one of them. Together we are better, right?" Reid said with a teasing smile. His understanding relaxed me. "Agreed?"

I stretched out my hand to shake on the deal. Reid focused his eyes on my hand, highlighting the fact that I used body language instead of words, so I cleared my throat and said, "It's a deal. To prove it, I will confess that I can't help but wonder why you didn't know about the block."

Reid nodded. "Good question. Diana is extremely powerful and she can make a block discriminate. It would be too noticeable if she included my family in the block so she probably made it exclusive to girls under a certain age." Reid acted as if he thought he had answered my question. I wrinkled my forehead and shook my head, conveying I was as confused as before, if not more. He pointed to my wordless expression and with a wry grin he continued, "I can tell you are confused. Diana was extremely worried about Karen pledging Zeta because I think she knew Karen was not a favorite going into it, and a group of girls can be awfully similar to a pit of vipers. That's why she had me arrange Karen's talent auction bidder. She said she did not want to leave anything to chance." The note in Reid's backpack had left a bitter taste in my mouth and I swallowed hard.

He arched an eyebrow at me. "You knew? No wonder you thought I was overly interested in Karen. How did you find out?"

"I found your ATM receipt with the withdrawal amount, the date, and Jeb Gillis' phone number on the back. Blair knew it was Jeb's since she has memorized the school directory. It was not hard to figure out," I explained, and recalled how it had been painfully clear.

"But how did you get the receipt? Diana and I took care of that before we left for Africa and I left it in Diana's car. She said she needed the account number," Reid said automatically.

"Well, it ended up in your Africa backpack attached to the pretzels with my name on it. I don't think it was an accident. Diana is a high-level member of Sunrise and the Cloccan tribe and I think Diana and Karen both want me away from you. Zeta girls may not have been Diana's only block targets but happened to conveniently fit into my age group. That may have all been a cover, Reid. Eileen seems to think there is no way Karen would be kicked out of Zeta so what is the worry there?" I tried to sound logical and not paranoid. The warning that Karen threatened Reid had not subsided with the revelation that Karen was his cousin. The threat might not be in the manner I originally thought, but the future potential remained.

"This might all be my own fault," Reid said. "A while ago, I made the mistake of telling Karen that I was completely into you but that you had zero interest in me. She took that as an affront to our family, and she was not exactly excited when we started dating. Karen had wanted me to date a friend of hers and her protectiveness of me could easily have looked like she was being possessive." Reid grimaced at this awkward admission. I wondered who the friend was and why Karen and Diana both seemed so involved with alliance building with the Wallace family. There was a tickle in my throat so before I asked Reid any more questions, I walked toward the kitchen to get a drink of water.

I heard Dr. West's angry voice flare from the quiet depths of the dining room. I had not realized he was here, and I followed the sound of his voice down the dark hall.

"This is NOT the time to tell Whitney. She needs to focus and not worry about ancient history," Dr. West huffed. He set a white stone on one of the big maps that covered the table as I walked into the room. A glimmer of a smile crossed Mr. Parks' face: it was exactly what he wanted to happen.

"Tell me what?" I asked. Dr. West's eyes widened in surprise at hearing my voice. What was he hiding from me? Curious, I reflexively crossed over into Dr. West's mind and saw he was recalling a memory of himself in a hospital room holding a newborn baby in his arms. The image faded quickly as Dr. West regrouped.

Dr. West's firm blue eyes landed like two icebergs on Mr. Parks as he responded. "History lives in the past because that is where it belongs. It is not to be confused with one of Yoshi's fairytales where the heroine dances on forever. History is often ruthless and ugly."

"Don't be offended, Whitney. You were a cute newborn," Mr. Parks said aloud as he identified the baby in the memory of Dr. West's mind and stymied Dr. West further. "Reg, you cannot allow painful emotions of an event to cloud your perception of everything that happened. Do not be drowned by sorrow."

My mouth opened in disbelief but I could not find words to ask Dr. West to explain why he had led me to believe the first time he met me was at the Clarion lab when I was a little girl. I remembered how he helped me when my visions were out of control and how he continued to help me manage all of the significant challenges in my life as my physician.

The obvious fact that whenever I was struggling, I called Dr. West suddenly dawned on me. He understood me like no one else. It had not completely escaped my attention that I could communicate with him telepathically, but I had not put all the pieces of the puzzle together until this moment.

"Yoshi," Dr. West warned. He picked up the white stone from the map and rolled it around in his hand. He seemed edgy and nervous.

"One of the lessons I learned traveling the Light Bringer's Way is that history is herstory as well. History may be full of mistakes and death, but herstory is an unwritten story of life," I argued. Mr. Parks emphatically nodded as I further expanded on his point. Dr. West looked at me impa.s.sively. He remained unconvinced.

"Let me guess. You are Albus," I said in a deadpan voice. My softball comment seemed to take Dr. West by surprise, and the tension in his face relaxed while Mr. Parks turned away in annoyance that I did not further press the importance of true enlightenment that comes from knowing one's self.

Dr. West nodded and exuded confidence that the momentum of the argument had shifted in his favor. "Yes, I am Albus." He proudly stood a little taller and puffed up his chest.

"You told me I was also Albus before I got on the trolley with Tiembo, and yet my parents are not Albus. Diana told me Ellen Forbes was Cloccan and I know my father has no precognitive abilities-the gift of the Albus clan. It cannot be coincidence that I share a telepathic wavelength with you but no one else. What is our connection, Dr. West? How are we related?" I asked. I unflinchingly held my gaze on Dr. West, but with my peripheral vision I could see the grin on Mr. Parks' face as he appreciated my panther style of using the unexpected to victoriously achieve the information that pertained to me.

"It seems this is no longer a philosophical argument of the merits of history and that I have just contributed to your airtight case. Yes, you were a beautiful baby, Whitney. I was there the day you were born because you are my daughter." Dr. West's eyes blinked several times as he fought back tears. "I have told you this before, but I would do anything to keep you safe. Even let you go."

"Daughter?" I whispered. I immediately recalled receiving the flag from Dr. West's coffin at Arlington Cemetery and Carson Noir's furious stare.

The next question that entered my mind was, who was my mother?

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