I freeze at the realization that if she’s spiritually forty-two and she’s been here ten years, she died at the same age I did.
“I was also thirty-two when I—” I start. Kimiko nods, sparing me the need to elaborate.
“That ties us for the youngest of the Hollywood crew. Every other regular made it to atleasttheir fifties.” She leans back against the refreshment table and scrutinizes the room.
“You met Richard. He was seventy-two when he died. You won’t hear him talk much about his first life these days, but he used to, and it wasn’t pretty. He never said this, but I get the feeling he used to be a hoarder. Don’t know why. Just a hunch.”
Richard is standing with two people—a tall man probably somewhere in his thirties with wavy brown hair and the widest smile I’ve ever seen and an even taller woman, curvy with vivid red hair. The woman is, as far as I can tell, ageless. If someone told me she was thirty, I would believe it; if someone told me she was fifty-five, I would also believe it.
Kimiko nods toward them. “Steven and Marie. Steven killed a guy in his first life.” At my expression, she bursts out in what to me seemslike inappropriate laughter. “Oh God, your face. It wasn’t murder, just manslaughter. And something about negligence. Steven’s good people. Tragic accident, but he still got put away. Died in jail, came back, avoided the accident, and, from what I can tell, is living a pretty good life. He’s a struggling actor.
“Marie’s husband died when she was super young—like, twenty-two; they’d only been married a year—in a freak accident. She never found love again, even though she lived a whoppingninety-eightyears. This time around, she managed to prevent her husband’s accident, and so far she’s been with him twenty years longer than what they originally got. Still happily in love.”
In that same matter-of-fact, blasé manner, she walks me through the past and current lives of the other attendees.
Trent, a blond guy in his thirties with tattoos over every exposed inch of skin other than his face, is trans and lived his entire first life in the closet. He started his second life on the day he turned eighteen, moved away from his toxic family, and immediately began his transition.
Next up is Noah, a buff, good-looking Hawaiian guy. Noah is a USC athlete, and judging from how he’s casually leaning back in his chair without a care in the world, he’s got the confidence to match. He reminds me a bit of Alex.
“Noah is the newest, aside from you. He died four years ago. He’s been pretty vague about everything. I know he lived to his fifties, but it sounds like he didn’t reallydoanything. He worked at a store. His best friend was his dog. He claims he was ugly, but, I mean, look at him. How? How is that possible?
“And last, there’s Evelyn.”
I take a closer look at the woman she’s gesturing to, and I’m hit by a sense of familiarity.
“Why do I—”
“Feel like you’ve seen her somewhere?” I’ve just placed her when Kimiko explains, “Child star. Not a particularly famous or successful one, but she devoted her entire life to chasing the fifteen minutes of fame she experienced as a kid. All she got out of it was trauma and a coke addiction. She’s the only person here who went back to an earlier age than I did—seven, her first casting call. Only this time, she made sure to bomb. She teaches fifth grade.”
My head whirls with the onslaught of biographical information about these strangers. And the person I’mmostcurious about, after all this, is… “What about you?”
“What about me?” Kimiko shoots back.
“You gave me the nitty-gritty about everyone else in the room. What’s your story?”
With a mysterious smile, Kimiko shakes her head and backs up a step.
“Meeting’s about to start. Wouldn’t want to be late.”
I can’t protest because she’s already across the room. I follow her to the circle.
Everyone’s eyes are on me as Richard begins the meeting. He asks if there’s anything anyone wants to share. A moment of silence, then a hand shoots straight into the air.
“Kind of you to kick us off, Evelyn—”
Evelyn cuts him off and says in a high-pitched, nervous voice, “Richard, who is she? Who are you?” The second question is directed at me. She turns back to Richard. “I don’t like strangers. You know I don’t like strangers, Richard. Are you sure we can trust her?” Back to me. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, Richard says gently, “I’m sorry, Evelyn, I should have explained. We have a new guest joining us today. Everyone, this is Joey. Joey passed the same test all of you did. Shecomes to us as a friend, but I don’t think it’s fair to make her talk until she’s ready. Does that seem fair, Evelyn?”
Evelyn tilts her head, appearing to think this over, then turns to me.
“Do you know who I am?” she asks sharply.
“I do,” I acknowledge.
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen your movies.”
