Tiffany wasn't the church-going type, so she didn't know much at all about God or religion, but as she sat there in what used to be her living room, new knowledge that didn't feel "new" began to creep into her mind. And with new knowledge came new memories. And these memories noticeably clashed with her original ones. Tiffany had the reputation of being the school slut, yet her new memories told her that she was a virgin. Tiffany was the type of girl to dress as provocatively as possible, to show off her body in the most sexual way socially acceptable, yet her new memories told her that she was as prudish as they came.
"Here you are, Sister," the woman said, walking back into the living room. Did Tiffany just think of her as a woman she just met and not her own mother? "These directions should help you get to where you need to go."
Tiffany stood up and took the sheet of paper. "Bless you, child," she said, then turned to leave. She just called her own mother "child" and didn't even blink. Whatever was happening to her was obviously getting worse. She worried that soon she may not even remember that this woman was her mother or that she lived in this house. She did live in this house, right?
