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“It’s so nice when people appreciate my work. It looks beautiful in your living room.” Freya grinned.
“Grayson?” Aunt Barb asked.
I didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, Grayson. I’ll introduce myself. I’m Freya, the artist. It’s nice to meet you, Barb.” She extended her hand.
“Grayson, what is going on?”
“Hey, you two.” Conner walked into the living room with a grin on his face, holding Isabella.
“I thought you said her name was Ava?” Aunt Barb spoke sternly.
“Freya, now isn’t the time,” I said. “Please bring Ava back.”
“Poo. You’re no fun.” She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Ava stared at Aunt Barb.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” She threw her arms up.
“Ava, come with me. The girls are outside,” Conner said.
When they left the room, I sighed and tucked my hands into my shorts pocket.
“Ava has what’s called dissociative identity disorder. It stems from childhood trauma.”
“I don’t understand, Grayson,” Aunt Barb said.
“She has five different people living inside her.”
“She has multiple personalities?” Her eyes widened.
“Yes, and Freya, the artist, is one of them.”
“So, you’re telling me that Ava painted that picture on the wall?”
“Freya painted it.”
The front door opened, and when I turned around, Gabriel walked in.
“Hi.” He smiled.
“Gabriel, do you know about Ava?”
“Yeah, why? The whole family knows. What’s going on?”
“Aunt Barb bought one of Freya’s paintings.” I pointed to the wall. “When Ava saw it, Freya fronted and introduced herself.”
“Wow. That’s beautiful.” He walked over to the painting and looked at it.
“Will someone please help me understand!” Aunt Barb exclaimed.
“I will, Aunt Barb.” Charlotte walked into the room. “Come with me.”
I looked at Gabriel as he hooked his arm around me, and we went out on the patio.
