After Shadow

by

Kim Pritekel

xenanut@hotmail.com

Prologue

1980

Clara Greenwold could hear noises coming from the basement. Her mother had gone down there a while ago to get hamburger for their dinner from the freezer. Clara walked into the kitchen, tentatively placing a hand on the partially open basement door and looking down into the deep, inky depths of the steep, narrow stairwell.

Mama? she called, her four year old voice high-pitched and unsure. Are you comin back up?

Yeah, honey, Stephanie Greenwold called back through the gloom. And then, Clara, come down here for a minute. I want to show you something.

The child felt panicked butterflies battering her ribcage at the request. She chewed uncertainly on a finger, then, never removing the digit, placed one foot on the naked wood top stair. The sole of her tennis show thudded dully. Her hand never left the rail that slid alongside the stairs, her saucered eyes trying desperately to adjust to the darkness that was quickly engulfing her. Mama? she called out again, needing the reassurance that her mother was really there at the end of the dark tunnel.

Im here, sweetie.

As Clara moved further into the basement, she felt the thickness in her belly, as she always did when heading down into the darkness. She always hated it when her mother would ask her to go downstairs for anything. She didnt understand why her sister  older by three years  was never asked to go.

Finally, the dim light from the naked bulb that hung in the unfinished space came into view. Clara hit the cement floor of the basement, and scurried over to where her mother knelt. As long as the girl could remember, there had always been a large wooden box against the far wall. Her mother called it a hope chest. Clara wasnt sure what that was, but never went near it. Whenever she did, she got a funny feeling in her tummy.

What are you doing, Mama? Clara asked, copying her mothers kneeling position on the floor. It occurred to the young girl just how much smaller she was than the woman who was her mama.

Im looking through some of grandma and grandpas things, sweetie, Stephanie said absently, looking into the depths of the cedar hope chest. The chest had belonged to her mother, whod had it since she was a small girl, growing up in rural Colorado in the 1930s and 1940s. When shed married in her late teens, it had changed from holding the dreams of a young girl to the memories of a young bride.

How did they die again, Mama? Clara picked up a small Indian girl doll. The clothing and moccasins were elegant in their colorful beads and ribbon work.

Ive told you this story a hundred times, Clara, Stephanie smiled, leaning over and kissing the top of her youngest daughters head. They were killed in a car accident when I was just a little older than you are now.

Oh, the girl said, as though hearing the details for the very first time. She put the doll aside and picked up a long violin bow.

Oh! No, Clara, dont touch that. Stephanie took the bow away from the child, and placed lovingly beside the violin in the opened black, velvet-lined case. She snapped the aged case shut and moved it out of a questing four-year olds reach. My mother used to play for us when we were little, Stephanie remembered. She sighed, sifting through some clothing.

Claras wide, violet eyes fell upon something else. She reached both hands in and came out with a strange object. It was cloth that had been clinched inside a round, wooden frame, the cloth stretched taut across its face. On the stretched part of the cloth, a design of flowers and a bird had been done in needlepoint, the bird not completed. All across one entire side of the cloth was something that was a brownish color, making the material stiff.

A small, curious finger reached out and touched the hardened brownish stuff, and the girl gasped. She felt the butterflies from moments before turn into screeching eagles, battering the insides of her entire body. She began to sweat, her head throbbing with the pounding of every heartbeat. She felt a sense of dread wash over her. Fear clenched her guts, followed by a deep sorrow and regret.

Stephanie gasped in shock as her daughter burst into hysterical tears, dropping the needlepoint to the floor, and plowing up the stairs at a dead run.

Clara!

Clara ran to her bedroom, throwing herself on the pretty white and green canopy bed that shed just started sleeping in the previous spring. She couldnt hold back the hot tears as they streamed down her face and onto the pink comforter, along with dribbles from her nose.

Clara! Stephanie, out of breath and filled with fear, nearly bypassed her daughters open bedroom door in her haste to get to the girl. What is it, honey? She hurried over to the bed, sitting beside her sobbing daughter. What happened?

Clara allowed herself to be cuddled by her mother, grabbing onto the older woman as if for her very life. She was so sad! she cried, the emotions still coursing through her like an electric shock

Who? Stephanie ran her fingers through soft, brown hair, kissing the top of Claras head.

Grandma.

Stephanie stopped dead, a chill trickling through her body. Your Grandma Greenwold? Clara shook her head. Honey, my mom is dead. Shes not sad anymore.

Clara wiped her nose with her arm, leaving a slime trail behind. She looked up at her mother with big, sad eyes and nodded. She told me she was.

Stephanie felt herself go cold, and she shook her head, getting to her feet. Thats not funny, Clara, and I dont want to hear you talk that way about your Grandma Holdridge again. Do you understand?

But Mama-

Im going to get you a Kleenex for your nose.

The girl watched her mother leave her bedroom, a sinking feeling replacing the battering wings of the eagles.

Chapter 1

1986

Clara had to admit: up close and personal, butterflies had the strangest faces. Quite ugly, in fact. She gasped as the winged insect took to flight, off the girls finger, where it had landed a few moments before. Violet eyes watched it go until it was out of sight.

So, what do you wanna do now? Jason Rugby asked, sitting cross-legged on Claras back lawn, picking at a scab on his knee. He winced as the roughened patch peeled back, revealing a less-than-healed scrape.

Clara sighed and flung herself back on the lawn, hands cupping the back of her head. She looked up at the blue, July sky. Fat, white clouds drifted by, forming and reforming into crazy patterns. Her father, Max had told her it was called matrixing, where the mind would try and make sense and patterns out of just about anything. Including clouds. If that were true, then she was matrixing a rabbit hopping towards the Sellers place.

Clara?

What? Oh. Sorry. I dont know. I could get some money from my mom and would ride down to the store. Get a slurpy.

Jason laid down next to his best friend, head slightly cocked to the side as he tried to make out what the cloud above him was turning into. Lotsa clouds today.

My mom said were in for a summer storm.

That sucks. Ill have to go home early, then.

They lay in silence for a long minute, listening to the summer day. School had let out a month ago, and the friends were already bored, running out of ideas to fill their days.

Jason and his father had moved into the house at the end of the cul-de-sac the previous Christmas, and Clara had been drawn to the boy. Shed promptly taken over in showing him around Mason Elementary School, and theyd become inseparable. This was their first summer together, and Clara was excited to spend it with him.

Kids! Lunch! Stephanie called from the opened sliding glass door, stepping out onto the small patio.

Mom? Clara called, lifting her head just enough to see her mother. Can me and Jason ride down to the store after we eat?

Stephanie studied her daughter for a moment, hand on hip. Are you going to be careful this time? she asked, raising a pale eyebrow at the girl. I dont need another call from Mr. Struthers again, telling me how he nearly ended up in the ditch to avoid hitting you because you werent paying attention.

Mom! That was like, months ago! Clara sat up, indignant at the memory.

It doesnt matter if it was three years ago, Clara. I dont want you getting hurt.

Jason glanced back and forth between mother and daughter. Hed heard the entire story at school the following day, hearing how upset the old man had gotten, actually getting to of his car to yell at Clara.

Yes, Mom. I promise, Clara said, rolling her eyes.

You dont make faces at me, and Ill think about it, Stephanie warned, heading back inside, effectively ending negotiations.

Your moms strict, Jason whispered, his friend nodding. My dad lets me do whatever I want.

Thats cause hes never home, Clara grumbled, getting to her feet. Come on before she changes her mind.

Clara sat on the seat of her blue and white Huffy dirt bike, a foot resting on one of the pedals. She rested the large blue, white and red slurpy cup on her raised knee. The neighborhood convenience store was bustling as the noon hour passed. The local workers had come out to gas up, or grab a quick lunch at the Wendys on the opposite end of the convenience store parking lot.

This is so good, Jason murmured around the straw, the other end creating a tunnel of juice in his cherry slurpy. He sucked greedily, then pulling quickly away from the drink. Ah! Brain freeze!

Clara giggled at her friend. He did that every time, and never seemed to learn. She watched as he set the cup down on the lid of a nearby trash can, then grabbed his head. As if thatll do you any good, you goof, she thought, rolling her eyes.

She glanced across the parking lot, sucking slowly at her drink when she noticed someone standing near the corner of the fast food place, near the busy street beyond. He wore blue jeans, a white t-shirt and high-topped tennis shoes. He was looking right at her. Clara felt her stomach grow tight, a wave of nausea brushing through her. She couldnt take her eyes off the man, who looked to be in his 20s. He smiled at her, then walked away, headed toward the street. She glanced further up the street, noting that a red truck was headed right for him. The man didnt slow, or even seem to notice.

Claras heart began to pound, a sense of urgency gripping her. She took a step forward, about to cry out a warning, when the man faded into the warm afternoon. She started, blinking several times  still no one. The red truck blew by.

Hey, you okay? Jason asked, looking from his friend to the restaurant and back again. You look like you just saw a ghost.

I did, Clara muttered, then turned back to her cold treat.

Soon the pair were on their way back towards their neighborhood, racing each other with their sudden burst of energy from the sugar-filled slurpy. Clara jumped the curb, her Huffy taking to the air in an impressive arc before she landed on the street, her tires and pedaling feet never missing a beat. Jason was right behind her, trying to accomplish the same trick, but instead nearly falling head first into Sylvia Tanners prized rose bushes. He cursed softly then hurried after his friend.

***

The dinner table was quiet, only the scraping of forks across plate to grade on Claras nerves. Her parents sat on either side of her, her older sister, Kerri across from her. She glanced up at the pre-teen, only to be nailed to the spot with a glare. To say Clara and Kerri were close would be a complete lie.

Clara was a smaller girl with the build of a bean pole, while Kerri was bigger  in every way  and used that size to her advantage. At least once a week Clara found herself stuff in the trash can outside, or some possession of her ripped out of her hands by the bully she lived with.

Claras gaze drifted away from the brown trying to intimidate her, and turned to her father, instead. Max was Claras hero. He worked long, hard hours working for a trash pick-up company. He left before dawn, and sometimes got home after dark, usually carrying some sort of treasure hed found during his daily rounds. Stephanie never saw his finds the same way, and more often than not the item found its way back in the trash.

Max Greenwold was a handsome man with Claras same brown hair  unlike Kerri and Stephanies dark blonde. He had sparkling blue eyes and a dimpled smile. He looked older than his 28 years, but Clara figured that was from his long days. It was important to him that Stephanie stay home with their daughters, so he put in upwards of fifty to sixty hours a week. Clara adored her father.

How was your day, sweetpea? he asked, sipping from his milk.

Good. I managed to jump higher on my bike than Jason. He wasnt thrilled. Clara played with her mashed potatoes with her fork.

Dont play with your food, Clara. Eat it, Stephanie said absently, scooping up the last of her peas with a spoon. It was a nightly game to try and get the youngest Greenwold to eat.

I bet Jason didnt like that. Maybe hell get you tomorrow.

Dad! Whose side are you on?

Max grinned. Yours, sweetpea.

Clara glanced around the table at her family, chewing on her lower lip. Did you know there was a guy who died on Rigby Road?

Even the silence seemed to screech to a halt. Three pairs of eyes were on her  one blue, two brown.

What? Max asked, setting his fork down.

Youre such a freak, Kerri muttered, turning back to her dinner.

I said, there is a guy who died on Rigby Road. Clara looked at both her parents, her courage beginning to wane, especially as she took in the look of disapproval from her mother. By Wendys. I think he was hit by a car or something

 her voice trailed off.

Kerri, how did your first day go, babysitting Ross and Jennys girls? Stephanie asked, not even bothering to hide her discomfort with Claras words.

Clara felt her heart drop as did her head. She looked at her plate, no longer hungry. Anger mixed with fear topped by hurt began to fill her eyes.

You can tell me about it later, sweetpea, Max said softly, patting the girls leg under the table.

Clara looked up at him briefly before nodding and looking back at her plate.

The room was dark, only the light shining in from the streetlight at the corner  one house down  broke through the gloom. Clara lay on her bed, one hand tucked behind her head, the other resting casually across her stomach. She connected the glow-in-the-dark stars that her mother had allowed her to put on the ceiling a couple years before. Theyd made constellations as well as silly designs. She smiled as she picked out her name, literally written in the stars.

Summer was almost over. It had gone so quickly. It seemed just yesterday her and Jason were wasting a day, trying to figure out what to do with their time. Jason and his father had headed out to North Dakota to see Jasons grandparents. They had already been gone for a week, though it felt more like a year.

The day before Stephanie had taken Clara and Kerri to shop for school clothes. Clara was proud to say that shed grown two inches over the summer. That was happy news. She wondered if she was finally taller than her friend, Michelle. Michelle and her family had left for the entire summer, so they wouldnt see each other until the first day of school, in a week and a half.

Claras thoughts stopped as she felt a strange wave her in stomach. She took a deep breath, then looked away from the ceiling. Her eyes were drawn to the corner between her window and the closed closet door. She swallowed, as the shadows were thick as ever.

Is somebody there? she whispered, barely audible. There was no noise, no movement. Nothing. Just the nausea in her stomach, and she knew what that meant. The room was quiet, but she was still drawn to that corner.

Clara took another deep breath, then pushed the sheet off her body, sliding her legs off the side of the bed, feet hitting the carpet beneath. She stared, her breathing beginning to get heavier. She could feel her palms sweating, and rubbed them on the bedding. She fought the urge to call for her father, knowing that shed have to deal with this herself.

Is there- she gasped, muffling a soft cry when she saw movement. A shadow  quick and dark  seemed to scamper from the corner to the closet, and disappear. I can do this, she whispered to herself, closing her eyes for a moment and taking several breaths.

Clara pushed off the bed, her hands trembling as she took a slow step toward the closet. Her heart was pounding so loud she was worried shed wake her parents and sister. Another step. Her scalp began to itch as it, too began to sweat. She was truly frightened.

She reached a hand out, her fingers grasping the handle of her closet door before, with one last punch of courage, she pulled it open. Clothing hanging on hangers swayed gently from the sudden exposure, but nothing else seemed amiss. Clara looked inside, pushing shirts and pants aside, only to see the white wall of the back of the closet.

Clara let out a breath, a hand gripping her chest. This sucks, she muttered, closing the closet door and hurrying back to her bed, where she pulled the sheet up over her head.

Weeks later, Clara was in the kitchen, preparing lunch for herself on a Sunday afternoon. Her parents were out, leaving Kerri to watch her younger sister. The older girl was in her room, reading one of the books in her endless Stephen King collection.

Clara licked the knife clean of grape jelly, then tossed it into the dishwasher. She grabbed her plate and cold can of Coke, and headed toward the round kitchen table for four that was tucked into a nook in the kitchen, near the sliding glass doors.

Plate and can set down, she pulled out a chair, ready to sit when something caught her attention. She had no idea what it was, but she found herself standing in front of the sliding glass door, looking out into the backyard. Their street backed up to an open field, a distant stream and trees beyond the open space. Her gaze fell upon their six foot privacy fence.

Barely rising above it was a face. Clara couldnt take her eyes off it, riveted to the spot. She felt a strange mixture of fear and power surge through her. She couldnt get a set fix on the faces features, almost as though they were blurred somehow.

The face was attached to a figure, which began to climb the backside of the fence. Claras gaze moved to the support boards to the fence that were on her side, leaving the side the figure climbed smooth, nothing to hold on to. She felt her heartbeat quicken, the pulse in her throat throbbing.

Clara wanted nothing more than to slam the door shut and close the vertical blinds. She wanted to sit down and enjoy her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Coke.

Go away, she whispered. She sensed the face was smiling at her. Grinning, evil. Please. Just go away. Clara suddenly felt something charge through her, making her stand taller, and she found herself taking a step towards the sliding glass door. She met the blurred gaze of the figure. You will not touch me, she said, her voice strong, filled with a conviction she didnt understand. She felt as though someone were talking through her. Leave this place. Now!

Who are you talking to?

Clara whipped around, seeing Kerri standing just inside the kitchen, looking at the younger girl with a mixture of irritation and unease.

No one. Clara felt ashamed as she stepped away from the door, slamming it shut. A quick glance out into the backyard proved that the figure was gone. No one, she said again, sitting down to eat her lunch.

Chapter 2

1989

God, this is so disgusting, Clara muttered, finishing her business, then washing her hands with soap and water. She grabbed the little toilet paper-wrapped bundle, and headed out to the garage, where the big trash can was kept. She and Kerri were not allowed to leave used sanitary products in the house trash, which Clara thought was crap. Their mother had a partial hysterectomy after Clara was born, so hadnt had a period in thirteen years. She had forgotten what it was like to scurry outside in arctic temperatures just to toss a used tampon.

Her bare feet pounded down the three short garage stairs, dumped her package, then scurried back up into the warm house. It was late October, and temperatures had begun to sink into the low depths of cold. Their first snow was predicted for the following night.

Hey, freak, help me clear the table, Kerri said as Clara passed by the dining room door.

Kerri, dont call your sister names! their dad called from the family room, where he was taking in the news.

Clara stuck her tongue out at her sister, glad her father had stepped in for her. The older girl glared and continued to do her job.

The girls had what was officially called the Work Chart, but the Greenwold sisters secretly called the Slave Chart. They had assigned duties that had to be completed before bed  before homework, even  every night. This week Kerri had dishes duty while Clara had to vacuum and clean the bathroom the girls shared.

Sorry, Clara said sweetly. Not my job. So says the Work Chart. She chuckled as she heard Kerri outright growl at her. The teen continued into the family room, plopping down next to Max. Hey. Whats up?

Hey, sweetpea. Just more bad news. Max Greenwold sighed, watching Tom Brokaw explain about a failing economy and vicious attacks in foreign lands.

Sounds interesting. I guess. Why arent you watching TGIF?

Uhh

 Max looked at his daughter in confusion.

Thank God Its Friday. All the good shows are on. Family Matters. Mr. Belvedere… Ring a bell?

Not exactly, Clara. This is the first night Ive been home before nine this month. Im watching the news.

Okay. Clara sighed, knowing from his tone that she wasnt going to win this battle with her father. The family room television being the only one in the house, she was either stuck watching Tom Brokaw, or she would have to entertain herself in another way. She was about to choose another way when a story came on the news about a young mother who had been missing for nearly a month. Speculation was that shed run away with an old boyfriend.

Clara watched the images and listened to the details of the case, riveted. Deep in her mind, she heard a voice. It was almost like her own thought, but not, somehow. Shes dead. The little baby, too.

Max glanced over at his youngest, noting the look of pure concentration on her face. Whats wrong, sweetpea?

Shes dead. The woman. She didnt run off with the guy. Her baby, too, Clara said, and it was only after she uttered the words that she realized shed even spoken.

What? Who? That lady? Max pointed to the screen, which was changing from a picture of the young woman back to Tom Brokaw. Clara nodded. How do you know that?

Clara realized what shed said, and realized it was wrong. Nothing! Never mind, Dad, Im sorry. Forget I said anything.

Wait, no. Max turned in his seat so he was facing the girl, his gaze focused only on her. How do you know that, Clara?

Clara felt awkward under his close scrutiny, and though she loved and trusted her father above anyone else  except maybe Jason  she knew she couldnt fully trust him with this. Dad, please just forget I said anything. She looked down at her hands, which fidgeted in her lap.

Instead of answering, Max got up from the couch and left the room, leaving his daughter to breathe in a sigh of relief. It was short-lived, however, as he returned within moments. He held a deck of playing cards.

Honey, I want to try something. Okay?

Clara nodded, uneasy. She eyed the cards, which hed removed from the box, and had begun to shuffle in large, hard-worked hands.

Okay. Here we go. Max had had his suspicions about Clara for years, and wanted to prove something to himself  and to her  that night. He shuffled the deck to his liking, then set them down on his thigh, face down. Plucking the top card in his fingertips, he looked at it, sure to keep it so Clara couldnt see the face. What is this card, Clara? he asked, his voice quiet. Stephanie wasnt home tonight, having gone to help a neighbor bake for the womans daughters upcoming wedding, so they were safe. He just hoped if Kerri came into the room, shed keep her mouth shut.

Clara took a deep breath and looked at the card, noting the picture on the back: a half-naked woman grinning rakishly. She grinned, blushing slightly as she looked away. She pushed the image out of her mind, and tried to concentrate on what her father was asking her to do. Closing her eyes, she pushed open her mind, trying to stare into the deep black void she saw there. A void that she knew would open up and show her things. Images, voices, and information. All she had to do was listen.

Its the ace of spades, she said quietly, still seeing the bold card before her minds eye.

Max knew what the card was, but he couldnt help but look at it again. He was amazed when he spotted the large, proud black ace. Okay. This one? He didnt react, not wanting to frighten the girl. Holding up another card, he studied the thirteen year old.

Clara saw the card form. Two of hearts, she said, not even bothering to open her eyes.

And this? Max was trying to keep the excitement out of his voice as he held up a third card.

Nine of diamonds.

Maxs grin was a mile wide. He decided to try something. Grabbing the box the cards had come in, he tipped it until a card slid into his palm. He held it up. This?

Claras brow creased as she tried to get a feel for the new card. Nothing would come to her mind. Eyes still closed, she reached out and took it, holding it sandwiched between her palms. Shed found that it was easier to pick up on an objects energy if she touched it. She concentrated, waiting for the images to come. Her eyes opened, a smirk on her lips. Very funny, Dad. She handed the card back to him, the face of it facing him. Its one of the jokers.

Yes! Max took the card, the colorful image of a man juggling while riding a unicycle grinning at him. He grabbed the girl in his excitement, hugging her tight.

Clara took in the affection and approval like a starving man dying for food.

Whats all the excitement about? Kerri asked, stepping into the room, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

Kerri! Come here, watch this.

Stephanie Greenwold dried the last pan. Personally, she thought her friend was nuts for volunteering to bake all the goods for her daughters wedding, but each to their own. Stephanie swore that in another life she had been a baker or chef. She loved to cook, and was pretty damn good at it.

Is that the last of it? Paula Abbott asked, looking around her kitchen, hands on hips.

Yep. Weve got it all. Stephanie sighed, tired from the long day. She was just glad her girls were older now, and at 16, Kerri could easily watch Clara. I better get home, though.

Okay. Thank you so much for your help. Paula gave her friend a quick hug, then walked her to the door. You guys are still coming Saturday, right?

After all this baking, Stephanie said, indicating the pilled containers of baked goods. You bet your ass well be there!

Paula was still chuckling as she closed the locked the door behind the other younger woman.

Stephanie walked across the street, slightly irritated to see every light on in her house. Extra electricity cost money they didnt have. She wished Max would back her up on some of these things. He was just as wasteful as the girls, though. Undoubtedly, hes where they got it.

Letting herself into the house, Stephanie turned off lights as she went, noting that the kitchen wasnt finished yet, and it was nearly nine-thirty! Theyd eaten at seven. She heard laughter and clapping from the family room, and curious, went to check it out.

Thats amazing! Kerri laughed, shaking her head in stunned shock. Her little sister had just found out what Kerris boyfriend, Ryans favorite color was, what he ate for breakfast, and where his parents bought his car, just from holding the letterman jacket hed given to Kerri. How do you do that?

I dont know, Clara grinned, handing the heavy jacket back to her sister. Things just come to me.

Try these. Max had bundled the playing cards back into their box, and handed it to Clara just as Stephanie made her presence known.

Clara took the cards in her hand, but before she could fully concentrate on what she was seeing, she looked up to meet the hardened gaze of her mother. She felt panicky butterflies begin to fly around, and her heart sink. She knew it was time to head back into the closet.

Hey, Max said, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. Kerri gathered up her boyfriends letterman, sheepishly heading upstairs with it to put it away. How was the baking?

It was good. Stephanie took in the room. Whats going on here? Why didnt Kerri finish with the dishes?

Aw, Honey, we were just having some fun. No biggie.

Stephanie felt a pang of panic and fear niggle at her gut, but swallowed it down. There was no reason to make a fuss over things. Kerri, she said, as the older girl came back down the stairs. Please finish the dishes. Clara, finish up your homework. I know you have that big report due Wednesday. I doubt you want homework over the weekend.

Okay. Silently, Clara headed up the stairs, deck of cards still in her hand. She wanted to look at the pictures.

Max couldnt meet his wifes eyes as he turned his attention to the muted television. He grabbed the remote, turning the sound back on, and continued watching his program.

Stephanie sat beside him in silence until Kerri finished up with the dishes, then reported she was heading over to her friend, Kathys house for the night. Stephanie glanced over at her husband, and could tell he was angry at her. She chewed on her bottom lip before taking a deep breath and speaking her mind.

What were you doing, Max? Why are you encouraging this?

Im not encouraging anything, Steph. He met her gaze. The girl has a gift. Why do you refuse to see that?

Because its not a healthy one. Itll cause her pain and fear in the end, Max, and you know that.

No, I dont know that. And you dont, either. Shes not you, Stephanie. Shes not you, living with an aunt and uncle who didnt want you in the first place, and called everything you did evil. She has a mother and a father who love her, who support her  at least should support her, he said, eyeing his wife, and who has a right to be who she is. Its not fair what youre doing, and its not right.

Stephanie lowered her voice, not wanting to chance Clara hearing. Max, I know what shes capable of. What she sees, and what she can do. It can be very dark, and I will not encourage that in my house. In our house, with our family. Weve got Kerri to think about, too.

Steph, Max said, taking on his wifes lower tone, she did nothing tonight but a few cool parlor tricks. Its not like the kid was about to start vomiting pea soup with her head spinning.

Its all connected, Max. You dont know the kinds of dark forces that can come trough with her fun parlor tricks. It all comes from the same place. The same source.

Well, Max said, pushing to his feet and clicking off the TV with the remote. Im not going to damn her. But, I am going to bed. Good night, Stephanie.

Clara sat on her bed, the deck of cards tossed to the comforter beside her, forgotten. Though she was slightly nervous about what her mom would say, she couldnt help but think back to the surprising turn of the evening and smile. For the first time she was able to use her abilities in front of her family, without them calling her names or rolling their eyes, or flat out changing the subject altogether.

It had felt wonderful! She felt exhilarated, validated, and completely happy. Even Kerri  who thought she was a waste of human space  had been impressed. What Clara hadnt told her sister and father was that she had seen much, much more when holding Ryans jacket. Claras grin widened: great blackmail material.

Clara reached out blindly until she felt the cool cardboard box the deck of cards were wrapped in, and grabbed it. She held it up, looking at the woman on the front of the box. She couldnt help but wonder where her father had gotten the cards, and why shed never seen them before. The half-naked woman looked like a pin-up girl from the 1940s  blonde hair, voluptuous curves.

Dad, you devil, she grinned, enjoying the view. She held the cards between her palms, concentrating on what she felt and what images were brought to mind. She relaxed, allowing her mind to once more reach out, feeling the energy that was left upon the cards by their owner.

Clara sensed her fathers energy, could almost smell his cologne. A quick flicker of an image raced across her mind  his smile. She saw the dimples winking before they vanished. Claras breathing hitched a bit as she felt a warm blush flow through her, and for a moment she felt embarrassed, as though she had inadvertently stumbled across a memory between her parents that she really did not want to see. But then occurred to her that it wasnt her mothers energy she felt at all.

Dark hair. Long, dark hair.

Stephanie Greenwold had medium-length blonde hair.

Carlas eyes flew open, the cards tumbling from her fingers. She sat up, staring at them with wide eyes. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock at her door. Taking a deep breath, she called out an invite to enter. The door opened, her fathers head peeking around it.

Hey, sweetpea. You still up?

Uh, yeah, Dad. Its barely ten.

True. Max opened the door wide enough to step through and moved to the side off Claras bed. She was unable to look him in the eye as the truth of what shed seen from his cards hit her. Dads been with another woman. I just wanted to stop by and say goodnight. And to thank you.

She looked at him, surprised. Thank me? For what?

For sharing that with me tonight. Definitely more entertaining than Tom Brokaw.

Clara couldnt help but smile at that. Yeah, but not as entertaining as TGIF.

I dont know about that. Max sat on the edge of her bed, his youngest scooting over to make room. But I do appreciate it. I know your mom can be difficult about this stuff, and I know she doesnt understand it. He met her gaze, his blue eyes filled with love and caring. I dont understand it, either, really, but I do understand that its a part of you. You dont have to hide it from me. Okay?

She nodded, nearly moved to tears. Thank you. She sat up fully and gave him a big hug, staying in his arms and resting her cheek on his shoulder. Dad?

Hmm? Max asked, relishing the feel of the daughter that he knew in his heart would always be his favorite, no matter how wrong it was to choose between the two.

Are you and mom okay? Like, doing okay?

Max felt his blood run cold. He pulled back, concern in his eyes and studied Clara for a moment. Yeah, were fine. Why?

Clara smiled, not wanting him to feel bad, or to worry. No reason. Just wondering, is all. She reached around herself and grabbed the cards, holding them out to him. Here are your cards.

Thanks. He tucked them into the pocket in his shirt then looked deeply into the girls eyes. You always had the most beautiful eyes, Clara. Your grandma used to say you had eyes the color Elizabeth Taylors. She was a huge fan.

Of my eyes or of Liz Taylor?

Max chuckled. Both. I think you got such a different shade because it matches you. What you see.

I see a lot, Dad, Clara said softly, looking him in the eye.

Max had to look away. He wasnt sure if guilt was eating at him, or the intensity of Claras stare was making him uncomfortable. I know you do. He gave her a quick kiss on top of the head then got to his feet. Im beat. Ill see you in the morning.

I love you, Dad.

I love you, too, sweetpea. With a final smile and wave, Max was gone, leaving his daughter to wonder at life.

Chapter 3

1990

Heads!

Clara heard the warning too late as the soccer ball sailed through the air into the stands, smacking her dead center in the back of the head. She fell face-first, barely having the clarity to land on her hands and knees on the hard cement of the high school stadium.

Ah, shit, Clara! You okay? Jason hurried over to his friend, squatting beside her.

Jason, I think the sky is falling, she muttered, sitting back on her knees and bringing a hand to the throbbing goose egg that was already forming on the back of her head. She looked at her fingers, relieved to see there was no blood.

Oh my god! Are you okay?

Clara looked up to see who was speaking to her, but instead what she saw was the face of an angel. She stood next to the speaker, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Green eyes surveyed the scene, then landed on Clara.

Are you okay? the girl asked again.

Clara realized there was a tall African American girl standing next to the blonde, who was looking at Clara with deep brown, concerned eyes.

I think so, Clara said, falling back onto her butt. The world seemed to get a little fuzzy around the edges as she teetered on the edge of consciousness.

Clara!

Stephanie and Kerri Greenwold ran down the hospital corridor, the younger still dressed in her soccer practice outfit. Since shed borrowed her mothers car that day, she had left the high school fields as soon as Clara had been loaded into the ambulance, and had run home to gather their mother and take them to St. Marys.

The woman at the ER counter was less than helpful, but then Kerri spotted fellow teammates, Tanisha and Abby, as well as Claras friend Jason.

Over here, Mom. Kerri led the shaken mother over to the friends who sat quietly together, though Jason looked about as uncomfortable as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Stephanie was relieved to see her younger daughters friend, knowing hed know what happened. Jason! She hurried over to the boy, sitting next to him while Kerri joined her friends. What happened?

A missile  otherwise known as a well kicked soccer ball  hit her in the head. She passed out on us, he explained calmly.

Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief, flopping back in the chair. Is she alright?

Jason shrugged. Guess so.

I am so sorry, Tanisha said to Kerri, her eyes filling with tears. I didnt mean to hit her.

I know. Its okay. Kerri squeezed the frightened girls hand in understanding and support.

Clara looked around, not sure where she was. She found herself in a strange place, not really inside, but not exactly outside, either. The air around her was light with a golden, rose hued tint to it. Looking around, she could see nothing around her. No objects, no furniture, scenery. Nothing.

Voices. She tried to figure out which direction they were coming from. A woman. No, two women, but she sensed a man, too.

I think its time. Im going to take her to the next level, one woman said, her voice soft and pleasing to the ear.

I think thats wise. A good plan, said the other, her voice a bit deeper, words somewhat clipped.

Clara walked toward where she thought the voices came from, realizing there was a wall there. She almost had the feeling that she wasnt supposed to be hearing those words, or wasnt supposed to be where she was, though she had no idea where she was. Footfalls. Clara froze, listening as someone approached her.

Crap! She tried to find a place to hide, not wanting to be found lurking and listening. She stopped again, becoming aware of her body.

Clara felt torn, lying on the hospital gurney in the ER, well aware of her body lying there, her head pounding where it had been hit by the soccer ball. Even so, she was very well aware of the other place, with its golden rose hue. She could still hear the footfalls, yet she could hear the nurse moving around in her little curtained off cubicle.

What the heck?

Clara became aware that the person  one of the women, she suspected  was about to round the corner and show herself from behind the wall. She glanced down to the floor, noting the beginning of a foot.

Welcome back, Clara. You gave us quite a scare.

Clara blinked several times, disoriented, her stomach feeling slightly nauseas. She glanced to her right and saw the nurse standing next to her bed, smiling down at her, even as she scribbled something down onto a chart.

Do you know where youre at?

Not really, Clara muttered, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes. The ER.

Good. How many fingers am I holding up? the nurse asked, holding up three fingers.

Three.

Excellent. The older woman smiled then pushed the curtain aside for her to pass. The doctor will be with you in a sec, then she was gone.

Clara lifted her head to look around her, but regretted it immediately. She groaned, lying it back down on the thin, paper-covered pillow. Ow.

As she lay there, she thought back to what shed just experienced. Somehow she felt like she either should know where shed been, or did know where she was. She could see it all very clearly: the space shed been in, the voices shed heard. The feel of the environment, and she also knew that she hadnt been dreaming. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard her mothers voice getting closer.

The curtain spread open as Stephanie made her way into the cubicle, followed by a worried-looking Kerri.

They said you were awake, Stephanie said, leaning down and kissing her daughters forehead then taking her hand. Kerri took up residence on the opposite side of the gurney. How are you, sweetie?

Ill live. I think. Head hurts pretty bad, though.

Yeah, you got hit pretty hard, Kerri said. Tanisha is here. She feels terrible.

Eh. I got a hard head, Clara tried to dismiss, even though she felt like she wanted to puke.

The nurse said she thinks youve got a concussion. Stephanie peered into her daughters violet eyes, judging one against the other. Your pupils are dilated.

She probably does, then, Kerri assessed, also looking into her sisters eyes.

Their speculations were cut short when the curtain was once again moved aside as the doctor entered. He smiled and greeted everyone before turning his attention to the patient lying in the middle of the bed.

Clara endured his attention, her mother doing her best to hold her hand the entire time. She found out she would live, though Stephanie was instructed to keep Clara in bed for the rest of the day, and to keep an eye on her, waking her every hour to ensure no damage was done from the concussion.

Armed with a prescription for a good pain medication, Clara was released from the care of St. Marys ER.

The entire group sat at Dairy Queen, Tanisha insisting on buying Clara ice cream as a peace offering. Clara sat across from Kerri and Tanishas friend and fellow teammate, Abby Jensen. The blonde had barely said two words during their entire visit, instead concentrating on picking at her Oreo Blizzard. Once in awhile shed glance up, her green gaze catching Claras shy smile. The girl obviously had something on her mind.

Before Clara could censor her thoughts, her mouth opened and she spoke, the words soft. I know youre worried, but your grandma will be fine.

Abbys head flew up, her eyes wide. What?

Shell pull through the surgery just fine.

How did you know about that? she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

Silence filled the table for a moment as everyone stared a Clara. She felt herself shrink, wanting to fit inside her Peanut Buster Parfait cup.

Ignore her, Abby. Shes a freak, Kerri said.

Clara glared over at her sister, hurt and embarrassed. How could Kerri sit there so smug, calling her names when shed enjoyed Claras gifts more than once to get answers or clarification on things? It stung.

We all ready to go, here? Stephanie asked brightly.

Clara dumped her half-eaten treat, following the group out to the parking lot, Jason walking beside her.

Its okay, he whispered. Kerris the freak, not you.

Clara nodded, less than convinced. She had shared some of her abilities with her best friend over the past year, as theyd developed more and more. He knew how her family was about them  well, her mother, anyway  and he never judged her or called her down.

Thanks, Jason. He rammed his shoulder playfully into his, eliciting a small smile.

Very few knew the fact that Clara was quickly coming the realization of. She liked girls. Shed kept it to herself, not even telling Jason about it. Girls occupied her thoughts day and night. She would listen to Jason extolling the virtues of this hot chick, or that hot chick and wonder why she couldnt extol away with him.

What was wrong with her? Why so much

different. Clara felt like she carried a big burden in her young life, then in the same instant, thought she was being quite melodramatic. The hardest part of the whole thing was she had no one to talk to. About either thing!

Sometime  at the risk of her own life  shed sneak into Kerris room and snag one of her romance novels. While under the cover of darkness, Clara would read the stories by moonlight, skipping over the boring parts so she could have the book done in a night and returned to Kerris room. Her older sister thus far was none the wiser. The thing was, when shed look at the covers of the cheesy Harlequin novels, she would take in the pictures of the half-naked women with huge, feasting eyes. Shed take in their heaving breasts, bodice of their dressed usually torn open, or they were so busy that their garments seemed to strain at the seams. Never once would she spare a glance for the handsome pirate or rogue who was essentially molesting them.

Instead what shed do was finish the book, return it to a sleep Kerris room, then head back to her own bed, lie there and stare up at her ceiling. Shed replay the steamiest scenes in her minds eye, replacing the gallant hero with herself. Then, somehow it made sense that shed lust after the buxom beauty. If she could transform herself into the pirate, or the scoundrel trying to take over the beautys family land. Or, even if she saw herself as the sweet, caring Sheriff in a town full of bad guys, who finally wins the hand of the new veterinarian in town, her own feelings could make more sense to her. That is, until the light of day made her hide in the corners of the locker room at school, her back intentionally to her classmates so she wouldnt feel awkward or embarrassed.

Clara felt very alone in a world of fourteen year old girls who seemed to know who they were, for the most part. Seemed to know where they fit in their families, in school, and even in their after school activities. It seemed the only two people in Claras world who halfway understood her  or tried  was Jason and her father.

Max. Clara sighed, sitting alone in a park on a swing. She absently twisted the swing to and fro, resting her head against a hand that gripped the thick chain. She had pushed out of her mind what shed discovered the year before, while holding his deck of cards. Shed never said anything, had never touched the cards again, even though she knew where he kept them  out in his workshop in the garage.

Why would he do something so awful to his family? To his wife? She thought of her mother, was able to see her smile in her minds eye. She knew that Stephanie Greenwold wasnt always the easiest person to deal with: she could be narrow minded, stubborn, and certainly a forceful clean freak, but when it boiled down to it, Stephanie loved her family. She loved her daughters, and she loved her husband. She was big-hearted. So why was Claras father cheating with another woman?

He had started coming home from work later and later. Hed always been a hard worker, working long days. But hed never taken clothes with him to change into. He said it was because he was tired of smelling like a trash heap, and didnt want the car to smell, either.

Clara knew better. She thought her mother did, too. She would see the look on Stephanies face when she glanced at the clock, and the time would get later and later. Her lips would purse, and the little crinkle of anxiety would form between her brows.

Hell be home soon, shed say, almost as if to convince herself. I just know it.

It was getting late, so Clara jumped off the swing and picked up her ten speed fro where shed laid it on the ground. She looked around the park, marveling at the beautiful colors in the sky as the sun began to set. She knew without glancing at her watch that it was nearly seven-thirty. Would her father beat her home?

Clara used the sprayer to clean out the sink, then wiped down the counters and kitchen table. It was her week on dish duty. She noticed the garbage sitting in the corner of the room, and groaned inwardly. It was her fathers job to take it out, but he wasnt home yet, and she knew her mother would make her do it, anyway.

The neighborhood was well dark by time she heaved the Hefty sack over her shoulder and headed outside. The garbage cans were out by the curb, as garbage day was the following morning. She held her breath as she lifted the can lid, then tossed the bag inside, slamming the plastic lid back down into place.

She started back up the driveway to the house when she stopped, perking her ears to listen. There it was again

Clara whirled around, looking to see if Jason was hiding somewhere, whispering her name. His house was darkened, as it should have been, considering him and his dad were in North Dakota with Jasons grandparents.

Clara

What? Whos there? She felt a chill run down the length of her spine, settling in the pit of her stomach, which began to flow with slight nausea.

Clara

Beginning to really feel frightened, Clara turned back towards the house, intending to run full speed ahead. She stopped dead in her tracks. Standing off in shadows, near the gate that led to the backyard, a woman stood, looking at her. Clara felt her heart clench, and her legs grow weak.

I wont hurt you, Clara.

The woman was beautiful, with dark hair  nearly black  that just barely reached her shoulders. It was all one length, the bangs pulled back away from her face. Her eyes were dark, the skin seemingly smooth and somewhat pale. She held no malice in her gaze, but Clara still felt an acute need to run.

Clara

Not willing to stay for a second longer, Clara barely touched the ground as she ran for the front door, her heart pounding painfully in her chest, every hair on her body standing on end. It was only when she had the front door safely closed and locked behind her that she was able to take a full breath.

You okay? Kerri asked, passing on her way toward the staircase. Clara couldnt speak, so merely nodded. Kerri shrugged, figuring it was just another moment of weirdness from her sister, and continued on her way.

It was after eleven, and Clara still waiting on the stairs. Stephanie and Kerri had gone up to bed more than an hour before, but Clara knew she wouldnt be able to sleep. Not until he was home. She sat with her knees spread, her hands dangling between them, her fathers deck of cards in her hands. She shuffled and re-shuffled, trying to keep her hands busy and her mind blank.

Finally, the familiar sound of her fathers car pulling into the drive. The engine cut out, a door opened then slammed shut, and finally, his key in the front door lock. The door swung open, and a slightly disheveled Max stepped through. He looked very surprised to see his youngest waiting for him.

Hey, sweetpea, he smiled, heading up towards her. What are you still doing up? Dont you have a test tomorrow, or something?

Thats kind of hard when were on summer break, Dad, she said dryly, not willing to latch on to his lame attempt at a joke. She stopped shuffling the cards and fanned them out, offering one to him. Pick one.

Max looked slightly annoyed, as he was tired, but humored Clara and studied the cards before picking on, just to the left of the center of the semi-circle of cards. He knew the drill, so pressed the face of the card against his leg so Clara couldnt sneak a peek.

My guess is you drew the Queen of Hearts, Clara drawled, unable to find any satisfaction in her fathers shock as he looked at his card. Or should I say, Queen of broken Hearts? She was tired of seeing the pain in her mothers eyes, and the humiliation and embarrassment Clara, herself felt every time she saw her parents together. Why pretend?

What? Max asked, handing the card back.

You wanna know what card I think you should have drawn instead? Clara asked, ignoring her fathers confusion.

Whats that? he asked, unsure how to take his daughters low, quiet tone. It seemed very unlike her.

Not a heart, not a diamond, not a spade or a club. You should have drawn from the suit they forgot to add to the deck. You should have drawn the Jack of Assholes card.

Max was taken aback, mouth falling open. Who do you think you are, Clara? Talking to me that way. What did I do?

Clara once again ignored his words, and handed him the deck of cards for a second time. Do the right thing, Dad, she said softly, standing from the step. Win back my respect. She turned to head upstairs, and moms. With that, she headed down the upstairs hall to her bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Chapter 4

Careful what you wish for. Those words kept going round and round in Claras head. Careful what you wish for, because you might just get it. She sat on the porch swing, watching as box after box was carried out of the house, and set in the bed of her fathers truck.

It had been two weeks since Clara had confronted her father on the stairs. They had avoided each other for a few days after that, but then by the following weekend, she had come home to find her parents sitting at the dining room table, a wad of used tissues lying on the table between them.

As Clara watched her mother carrying one last box out to the waiting truck, she knew that the woman wanted nothing more than to break down and beg Max to stay. Ultimately, as much as Stephanie might be hurting right now, Clara knew shed been hurting a hell of a lot more knowing that her husband was unhappy, and that unhappiness had driven him to stray.

Kerri hurried out of the house, down to her father, nearly knocking him over with her exuberant hug. Clara watched, almost feeling detached as the scene unfolded. She could tell Kerri was crying, and their father was doing his best to try and soothe her. He gently pushed Kerri into the care of her mothers awaiting arms, Maxs gaze finding Claras.

Clara could feel herself grow cold as he made his way up to where she sat, legs curled up against her chest. She wanted to pretend she didnt see him, but knew that would only buy her a couple moments before she had to face him.

Hey, he said, his voice quiet. Clara looked up at him, but said nothing. He sat on the swing beside her, the chair wobbling crazily for a moment at his added weight. I know youre mad at me, and I understand that. He paused, studying his beloved Claras face, trying to get her to meet his gaze. When she wouldnt, he continued. Im really sorry, sweetpea. I know it doesnt make a whole lot of sense to you right now, but I promise  someday it will.

Clara said nothing, biting her tongue so hard it nearly burst. She was trying to keep her emotions in, not wanting to cry in front of him, even though what she wanted most was for her daddy to hold her and tell her everything would be okay.

Arent you going to say goodbye? Max asked, his voice catching slightly.

Clara looked over at him, her face reddening as she tried to hold in her heartbreak. Goodbye.

Max bit his lower lip, able to feel the hurt washing off his daughter in waves. He knew better than to push her, so simply nodded and pushed up from the swing. take care, Clara. I love you.

Clara forced her lips to stay closed, as she felt he didnt deserve to know she loved him, too. She watched as he walked away from her, heading towards his truck. The image began to wash away as her tears finally fell.

Dinner was a somber affair as Clara picked at her food. Stephanie had been softly crying off and on all day, and Kerri tried to ignore it all, her nose stuck in one of her books.

Clara chased her carrots around her plate before dunking them in her mashed potatoes. Meatloaf, carrots and mashed potatoes  with tons of butter  was her favorite dish of her mothers, and the one shed requested for that night, yet she couldnt make herself eat it. She gave a surreptitious glance over to her fathers empty chair, then quickly looked away again. Was all of this her fault? Maybe if she hadnt said anything to him. If she hadnt given him an ultimatum. Would he still be there? Late, but at least hed be there. Right?

Can I be excused? she asked softly, glancing up at her mother. Stephanie never took her eyes off her own barely-touched plate, simply nodded. Clara carried her plate to the kitchen, dumping the remains into the trash, and placed the plate in the sink.

Clara was glad to get away from the doom and gloom that had permeated her childhood home. Her father had been gone for an entire day, and his absence was felt acutely. Flopping down on her bed, Clara stared up at the ceiling, covered in shadows as the sun fell to end another day. Claras only solace was that Jason and his dad would be heading home the following morning. She needed him.

The road is long, the pavement beginning to come to life as the day begins. Mile after mile, the dotted white lines blurring into a fuzzy line between the lanes. Content with a newly-eaten fast food breakfast in his belly, he looks out the passenger window, watching the scenery as it flies by.

Can I change the radio station, Dad? he asks, tired of listening to his fathers favored country music.

Sure, Jay. Go for it. Just none of that rap crap. Cause remember 

I know, I know. You cant have C-R-A-P without R-A-P.

You got it.

He fiddled with the radio knob, getting a whole lot of static. I think were between areas where I can get a signal.

Alright. Put in a tape.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, twisting his body so he could reach between the bucket seats of the Buick, and grab the cassette tape holder  a black, plastic case that held twenty  and dragged it onto his lap as he got re-settled in the front seat.

Buckle up, kid.

Yeah, hang on. Im trying to find that Ozzy Osborne tape.

A loud POP rocked the early morning, the car suddenly jerking violently to the left as the shredded tire tossed pieces of rubber out onto the highway. He tried to hold onto the wheel, but the car was out of his control, and sliding along sideways.

Weightlessness.

The crash of glass.

Sudden flight

Clara bolted awake, her eyes wide, sweat soaking her t-shirt to her chest. She was gasping for breath as she looked around her bedroom. She tried to calm herself when memory came back to her, and she saw the dream all over again.

Jason! she gasped, throwing the sheet off her and hitting the floor at nearly a dead run. She pounded down the stairs, tripping over a throw rug placed at the bottom. She hissed at the rug burn on her knees, but was immediately up and running again.

Stephanie nearly jumped out of her skin, dumping coffee from the cup that had been raised halfway to her mouth in the process. Clara! Slow down! Wheres the fire?

Wheres the phone? Clara hurried over to where the cordless phone was usually kept. Not there. She turned, frantically looking around the kitchen. Wheres the phone?

Whats wrong, Clara? Youre scaring me. Stephanie put her coffee cup down, and was about to get out of her seat in concern.

Jason. I gotta call Jason, Clara said absently, hurrying out of the room to check the family room.

Wait! Why? Stephanie followed Claras panicked trail. Honey, do you have any idea what time of the morning it is?

Clara glanced at the Grandfather clock standing in the corner of the dining room. Yeah, its four-ten, she said resuming her search.

Exactly. Youre not calling Jason in the middle of the night.

But, I have to! the girl cried, turning on her mother. I have to warn him.

About what?

I just

dam it! Wheres the phone?!

I think Kerri had it last. Stephanie put a hand on Claras arm, stopping her from jetting back up the stairs. Clara, stop. Stop right now. She waited until she had the girls attention. Now, like a human being, tell me whats going on.

Clara took several deep breaths, then looked at her mother, trying to keep her irritation in check. I had a dream. Their tire blew, and Jason wasnt wearing his seatbelt because he hates country music. I have to warn him!

Stephanie blinked several times, trying to figure out what her daughter was talking about. Honey, it was just a dream. A bad dream, but a dream. Okay?

No, Mom. I need to call him. I have to warn them. Clara tried to get past her again, but Stephanie tightened her hold.

Clara, stop! You had a nightmare, and you need to calm down. Youre going to scare the hell out of Jason and his dad, calling them this early to tell him about a bad dream.

And what if the dream is true? What if it was real?

It wasnt, honey. Stephanie brushed a strand of brown hair out of Claras eyes. Its been a bad couple of days, sweetie, and youre tired. I dont think any of us have had a good nights sleep in a week. Obviously, Im up at four in the morning.

Clara sighed, calmed. Her mother was probably right, although she still had a sick feeling in her stomach. Can I call him when I get up?

Yeah, sweetie. You can call him then. Stephanie placed a kiss on her daughters forehead. Go to bed, Clara. Get some rest.

The phone rang for the fourth time, Claras impatient foot tapping along with the irritating shrillness. Come on, she muttered. Answer, already. She glanced at the torn piece of paper Jason had given her before he left, his grandparents number scrawled on it. She checked the number for the third time as she hadnt gotten an answer yet. Shed been trying for the past hour. Damn.

Clara clicked the power button on the cordless and tossed the handset to the couch. Kerri, who was sprawled out on the loveseat reading, glanced over at her.

No answer?

No.

Maybe they took Jason and his dad to breakfast before they left or something, Kerri offered during a rare time of actually trying to be helpful.

Clara glanced at her, a tiny amount of relief flooding into her, as what her sister said actually made sense. Maybe. She glanced at the clock to see that it was ten oclock their time, noon where Jason was. Youd think theyd be back by now, though. The grandparents. Jason and his dad have a long drive ahead of them. Wouldnt you think theyd be gone by now?

Kerri shrugged. Who knows, Clara. Maybe the grandparents had stuff to do after they left. Did you leave a message?

No. I think theyre the only people left on the planet who dont have an answering machine.

Oh. That sucks. With those last brilliant words of observation, Kerri turned back to her reading.

Clara rolled her eyes and left the room. She couldnt shake the unease of her dream, but knew there was nothing she could do about it, so went in search of her mother. It wasnt long before she found her, sitting at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out before her. She held a red ink pen in one hand, the other wrapped around the handle of a mug of coffee.

What are you doing? Clara asked, plopping down in a chair across from her mother.

Looking for a job, Stephanie said absently, bringing the pen to a midway point on the page and drawing a quick red circle around a squared off ad.

Why? Clara felt a sudden surge of panic rush through her. In all her fourteen years, her mother had never worked. Shed always been there when theyd left for school in the morning, and then when theyd returned at night. At one time the girl had thought it might be kind of cool to have that time alone after school, like a lot of her friends did, but now, faced with it, she wasnt so sure.

Stephanie looked up at her daughter. She looked about as awful as she felt: hair hanging around her face in unwashed strands. Her eyes were puffy and red, the skin of her face pale and tight from too many nights of crying. As was typical for her when stressed, shed lost her appetite, so her t-shirt hung on her shoulder blades, almost as though it had been draped over a chair.

Because we need money, Clara, she said, a tad more harshly than shed intended. Immediately she felt bad. She dropped the pen and reached across the table to cover her youngests hand with her own. Im sorry. I didnt mean to snap. Your dad has always been the bread winner, honey, but now hes gone.

You know hes not going to let us go under, Clara pointed out, trying to sound every bit the wise adult that she was not.

Stephanie shrugged. So he says, but these situations can get nasty. I dont want you girls to think badly of your dad, but you just never know. Id rather play it safe than sorry. Besides, she said with a heavy, coffee-scented sigh, I think its best for me to get out of this house. She ran a hand through her hair, grimacing at the oily feel.

Probably best, Clara agreed. An idea hit her. She pushed back from the table, the chair screeching against the tile. Grabbing her mothers coffee cup, she took it over to the sink, dumping the cold contents and rinsing it out. She then gathered up the newspaper, ignoring her mothers protests. Come on, Mom. She grabbed Stephanies hand, tugging her out of the chair. Go get showered and dressed. Were going out.

Stephanie got to her feet, but pulled her hand away. Sweetie, thats sweet, but we cant. I need to conserve-

Conserve money, yes I know. Clara grinned devilishly. Good thing I still have the birthday money from Grandma, huh?

The Russett Mall was busy, as was to be expected during summer break. Typically not one for shopping, Clara knew her mother was. Her mother rarely was able to buy herself anything nice: they usually didnt have the money, and there were far too few occasions for Stephanie to dress up. Usually when Max came home from work, she was in a pair of shorts or jogging pants that shed been in all day. Maintaining a house didnt require dress up clothes.

Oh! Look at that one! Clara exclaimed, pointing at a sword that was in a window display in a shop called Sharp, Pointy Things. Stephanie stepped up beside her daughter, the straw of her Orange Julius pressed between her lips. Wow.

Honey, what in the world would you do with a sword?

Clara shrugged. I dont know, but wow

 Her gaze drank in the sight of the polished steel, her mouth nearly leaking drool at the thought of holding something like that in her hands. Some day, though. Ill have me one.

Oh, Im sure you will. In your own place, Stephanie emphasized, earning a rueful grin from her daughter. They walked on down the main hall of the mall complex. Youll have those things hanging all over your walls, and then some idiot will decide to break into your house, and run screaming into the night.

Clara laughed. Yeah, either that or Ill be totally screwed!

They checked out a few more display windows before deciding to take a rest and sit on a bench near a potted plant. Clara played with her drink for a moment, her mother people watching.

Mom?

Hmm?

What do you think happened/

Stephanie glanced at her daughter, brows creased in question. With what?

You and dad. Clara looked into her mothers eyes for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to decide how much she should divulge. I know about the other woman.

Stephanies eyes opened wide in surprise, then filled with pain. How? I know you guys are close, but

Did he tell you?

Clara shook her head.

Then, how do you know about that?

Im going to tell you, but you cant get all weird on me. Okay? When she had her mothers nod of consent, Clara continued. That night you came home and found us all in the family room, Kerri and dad were testing my abilities.

Right. I remember.

Well, he gave me a deck of cards that night. Thats how we started it. He was holding up a card to see if Id know what it was, and all that. Well, after you broke it up, I went upstairs to my room, still holding the cards, she explained. Mom, I get

. Well, when I hold things, sometimes I can pick up memories from them. Like, read their energy.

When Clara didnt continue, Stephanie pressed. And you felt something? At Claras nod, Stephanie turned away. I see. Clara, that was almost a year ago. Why didnt you say anything?

Clara couldnt stand to see the hurt in her mothers eyes. She wanted to plead for her mother to understand. What was I supposed to say? Hey, Mom, guess what dads doing. I couldnt say anything. For one, I wasnt sure, and I didnt want to believe it. For two

 her voice trailed off.

Stephanie held back her tears, the wounds still so fresh. She nodded in understanding, giving Clara a one-armed hug and placing a kiss on the side of her head. Im sorry. Youre right.

Clara felt her heart needing to purge itself, the emotions beginning to really rise to the surface. This is my fault, Mom.

What? How do you mean?

About two weeks ago, I confronted him. Clara wiped angrily at the tears that had begun to fall. She felt stupid, having already seen some kids from her school wandering through the shops.

About his affair?

Clara nodded. I called him an asshole.

Stephanie tried to hide her slight amusement at her brave little girl, instead giving her a full hug. Oh, honey, she cooed. Its not your fault. You dad has his own demons to battle, and the majority of them deal with me. Not you girls. She rocked the crying girl, running a hand through her thick, brown hair. Dont take this burden on, Clara. Please dont. Your father loves you more than anything.

Maybe if I hadnt said anything. Or maybe-

Stop it! Stephanie pulled away, cupping her daughters face between her palms. And looking into her eyes. Stop it, Clara. There is nothing you could have done. Nothing you did wrong. Okay? Do you understand me?

Clara nodded, sniffling like a child. Stephanie reached into her purse to pull out an ever-present packet of tissues, and handed the girl one.

Come on. Lets get you to the bathroom so you can wash your face, and lets go see that movie. It starts in twenty minutes.

Clara nodded, and opted to go to the restroom alone. She found one near the food court, and pushed the heavy door open, stepping inside the large, somewhat odorous space.

She gave the room a casual glance, noting the five stalls  all of which were empty  to the right, and a counter that ran along the left-hand wall, sinks spaced intermittently, separated by wall-mounted soap dispensers. The far wall held two hand dryers.

She headed further into the room, walking toward the furthest stall.

That ones broken.

Clara jumped as the voice practically whispered in her ear, the source behind her. She whirled around to see a grinning girl behind her. She looked a bit older than Clara, her long hair dyed black. Dark makeup made her dark eyes seem to disappear. Her lips were a slash of red lipstick, her face pale. She wore the uniform of one of the fast food restaurants in the food court, her nametag clipped just above her left breast: Erica.

Oh. Thanks. Clara moved away from the girl, ducking into one of the other four stalls. She wasnt entirely sure the girl was real until she heard her step into her own stall, pants unbutton and unzipped, and then the familiar tinkle of bathroom business.

No matter how much Clara had been wanting to see the movie she and her mother sat watching, she couldnt stay focused. Jason kept creeping into her mind, as well as images from her dream the night before. She felt uneasy and slightly agitated. She glanced at her watch for the fourth time, groaning when she realized that only six and a half minutes had gone by since shed checked it last.

See? I told you hed come back to her, Stephanie whispered, completely unaware of her daughters anxiety.

Clara nodded absently, not a clue what her mother was talking about.

An hour and a half later, Clara and Stephanie were making their way up the driveway, their few purchases in hand, when Kerri burst out of the front door. Her eyes were red from crying. Clara felt her heart begin to pound as her older sister made her way over to her.

What happened? Clara whispered, barely able to speak over the lump that had begun to form in her throat.

Chapter 5

The bird perched on the tree for only a moment before flapping colorful wings, and once more taking to flight. Clara watched until it disappeared from sight, catching a leaf falling from the tree branch as her gaze slid back down to the backyard. She followed the leafs progress until it, too, was out of sight.

She brought up a hand, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. The day beyond the window was bright, the sun high in the sky. She rested her head against the cool glass as she studied the clouds. She followed the lines of the witchs profile she saw, her nose pointy, complete with a wart at the tip.

A knock sounded at her closed bedroom door, which Clara gave no notice to.

Clara? Come on. You have to eat something, Kerris muffled voice said. Please?

Clara said nothing, instead continuing to study the clouds. Eventually she heard her sister give a frustrated sigh, then walk away.

I dont want food, Kerri, Clara whispered.

She turned away from the window, lying on her bed, legs stretched out and her hands tucked behind her head. She glanced over at her desk and the cork board mounted above it. Pinned dead center was a picture of her and Jason, big, goofy smile on their unsuspecting faces, an arm draped over the others shoulder. She looked at his young, handsome face, meeting his twinkling eyes. The picture had been snapped a few months back while Max had been fooling around with a Polaroid camera.

Clara climbed off her bed, walking to the desk and plucking the picture from its moorings. She realized that Jason hadnt even known about what had happened between her parents. She hadnt had a chance to tell him.

Now youll never know, she said, tracing a finger across the image that was her best friend. Either that or youre sitting up there watching. A good show, Im sure.

Maxs brow creased as he tried to figure out why the burner wasnt heating up. What the hell, he murmured, passing a hand back and forth over it as he adjusted the turn dial. There was a brief ticking noise, then the unmistakable stench of natural gas. Shit! He turned the dial to the off position. He stepped back, studying the stove, then decided to use the microwave instead.

The apartment hed been able to rent was small  two tiny bedrooms, (in case the girls wanted to ever spend the night) a tiny bathroom, decent sized living room, and a hallway kitchen. The furnishings were sparse, as he hadnt wanted to take anything from the house. Hed managed to buy an old couch off a buddy from work, as well as a horribly scarred kitchen table with three matching chairs. The fourth, apparently, had been thrown out years ago.

Boxes were still stacked everywhere, Max not having the energy or enthusiasm to unpack. Instead, he used a can opener to wrench open a can of Spaghetti-Os. He dumped the noodles and sauce into a bowl and shoved into the microwave hed picked up at Wal-Mart for twenty nine ninety-five.

As his lunch heated up, Max walked into the living room, picking up the remote to turn on the TV. He hadnt just sat and watched TV on a Saturday in years. Typically, they headed out as a family and did something. Or just him and Clara.

Max sighed as he leaned against the counter, his thoughts going to his youngest. He thought back to the day hed left, and the way his heart had broken when hed had to leave her. He hadnt asked either of the girls if they wanted to go with him, not wanting to do that to Stephanie. But, deep in his heart, he had hoped that Clara would speak up and ask to go. If he were honest with himself, hed looked for a two-bedroom with the expectation that shed be with him.

The microwave beeped, alerting that his lunch was ready. He pushed off the counter, and was about to grab the handle of the appliance when the phone rang. Only Stephanie and the girls had his number at the moment, so he ran towards the phone in the living room, hurdling a stack of boxes in his haste.

Hello? he said, nearly out of breath.

Hey, Dad.

Hi, sweetie. Maxs brow drew in concern. Whats wrong, Kerri?

The sun was setting. Clara rolled onto her side, her pillow tucked up against her chest as she got settled. Shed been asleep for the majority of the day, not bothering to come out of her bedroom except to use the restroom. Even then, it was only when she saw the coast was clear. She didnt want to see anyone. Didnt want to talk to anyone. She didnt

want.

Her eyes blinked open when she heard some noise from downstairs, though couldnt tell what it was. Soon after, footfalls fell upon the hallway carpet, leading up to her closed bedroom door. There was muffled voices outside, then a soft, but firm knock.

Hey, you in there, sweetpea?

Her eyes shot open, glancing at the barrier that kept her father from view. She longed to run to him, but allowed her stubbornness to speak for her. Go away! There was more muffled talking, then the door clicked open. Damn. Why didnt I lock it? I said, go away! she called out again, her fathers head peeking around the opened door. He smiled at her, though it was a sad smile. Claras heart leapt at the sight of him.

Hey, you. He closed the door gently behind him, trying not to step on anything in the darkened room, knowing his daughters propensity for leaving things wherever they fall.

I dont wanna see you.

Yeah, well, thats too bad. I wanna see you. Max sat on the edge of Claras bed, a smile on his lips. Despite her words, her recognized Claras tone. That was her: Im-angry-at-you-but-dont-want-you-to-leave tone. So be it.

Clara felt her stomach clench with building emotion, and she tried to fight it down. She honestly didnt think she was capable of anymore tears, but apparently she was wrong. Her eyes stung, her head hurt from the abundance of emotion shed over the past two days. She just couldnt seem to stop, except for when she was asleep.

Max place a hand on her shoulder, gently rolling her to her back. He studied her pale, tear-streaked face, and it made his heart break. How are you? he asked softly.

Had better days.

I bet. Kerri says you havent been out of this room in two days. Havent eaten. Nothing. Max waited for a response, but continued when there was none. You cant do this to yourself, Clara. Jason wouldnt want this for you.

At the mention of her best friends name, Clara burst into near hysterical tears. Max was taken aback, but recovered quickly, gathering her up and pulling until she curled up in his lap, just like when she was a little girl.

Its okay, sweetpea, he whispered, rocking her as she cried. Im here now. Im here.

For the first time in two days, Clara felt as though she were really, finally able to let it go. Shed done her fair share of crying, but never felt very satisfied from it. But now, in the arms of her father, she really let go. She was comforted by the soft words he murmured, most of which she couldnt understand, nor did it matter what they were. He was there, and thats what mattered.

Max was relieved when Claras tears began to slow then subside altogether. Kerri and Stephanie had filled him in on what had happened to Jason, as well as how hard Clara had taken it. Kerri had mentioned that Clara had had a bad dream about it, and had been worried. Max said nothing, but his jaw had clenched, and the way his wife refused to meet his eyes, he knew they would need to have a talk later. But for now, Clara needed him. He smoothed back the girls hair from her face, wiping her tears away.

Clara pulled away slightly, just enough to grab a tissue from the box on her bed, and blew her nose and wiped her face and neck. Did you hear what happened? she asked at length.

Max nodded. Kerri and your mom told me.

She looked up at him with big, tearful eyes. Was he wearing his seatbelt? she asked. Kerri didnt tell me any details.

Max sighed, then shook his head. No, he wasnt. He was thrown out when the car rolled.

Clara squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out images that she realized had now been a vision, not a nightmare. And his dad?

Hes in serious condition in the hospital. Hes alive.

Clara was silent for such a long time, Max thought shed drifted off to sleep. Dad? she finally said.

Yeah, honey? he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

I saw it happen. I knew it was going to.

Max had dreaded this, but knew it was coming. He tried to swallow down his anger for Claras sake. Tell me about it.

Clara took a long moment before she recounted the dream to him. I knew it, Dad, she whispered, staring off into the memory of her vision. I knew it. I knew that if I could just warn him. Warn his dad to check their tires



Max felt cold inside, as he knew that likely the boys life could have been saved with one phone call. Why didnt you? he asked. Call, I mean.

I tried. Mom wouldnt let me. Clara felt Max tense beneath her, and she held up a hand to forestall his anger. Wait, before you get upset. It was four in the morning. She thought it could wait until morning.

Max said nothing, instead pulling his daughter back to him, placing a kiss on the top of her head. He didnt want her to see the anger building in him. His eyes were sharp, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Will you go to the funeral with me?

Of course, sweetpea. Of course.

What the hell is wrong with you? Max fired, getting dangerously close to invading Stephanies personal space. He was having a hell of a time keeping his rage in check.

How was I supposed to know it was a vision she had, Max? she raged back. It was four in the morning! Was I supposed to just let her call and wake up Jasons dad because of a bad dream? Be realistic.

Max lowered his voice as he took a step closer to Stephanie. You know damn well that Clara isnt a regular kid, Stephanie. You also know damn well that when she is that passionate about something, theres usually a reason. Shes a sensible kid. She doesnt just go off on a lark on a regular basis. He turned away from her, running a hand through his hair. You should have listened to her.

Stephanie was near tears. Since Kerri had run out and told her and Clara what had happened two days ago, she had been riddled with guilt and shame. I didnt know, she whispered. I really didnt know. I never would have wished anything bad to happen to that boy, Max. You have to know that.

I do know that, Steph, but I also know that you refuse to see what Clara is capable of. You had a bad experience when you were a kid. You were haunted by a fucking spirit. He whirled on her. Does that mean you have to deny Clara her own gifts, which from what I hear, likely came from you!

Stephanie bristled at the reminder of her terrifying childhood. Thats not fair, and you know it. Im not an oracle. I dont know what to belief as pure fact, and what to believe is simply a bad dream. We all have them! How was I supposed to know! Her grief and anger at herself came out in a room-shattering yell, which startled Max.

Well, now maybe you know. Max tried to reign in his temper, able to fully see how badly Stephanie was suffering. Though he was terribly angry at her, he knew she would feel guilty about it for the rest of her life. He sighed, once again running a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. This is part of the problem with us, Stephanie. You see what you want to see. Not whats right in front of you. When it was mainly just with me, fine. Im an adult, I can handle it. But Clara is a fourteen year old girl. A child! She needs to know that she can go to you. She can confide in you and feel safe that you wont turn her away, or ignore her, or pretend her abilities dont exist. Cause I got news for you, Stephanie, she does. Clara is special, and nothing you say or do will ever change that. Get used to it.

Chapter 6

The sky was a curious shade of gray. Clara had never seen anything quite like it. Clouds were indeed moving in, but they didnt look threatening. There wasnt the smell of rain in the air. It was just a gray sky. She heard a bird squawk somewhere off in the distance, which brought her numbly back to the reason of being out in the gray day.

The crowd at the cemetery wasnt nearly as large as it had been at the church, but it was still huge, mourners trampling over graves, trying not to run into headstones and monuments as they gathered as closely to the green tent covering Jasons place of rest, as they could.

Jasons father had not been able to attend, as he was still in a hospital in the mid-west. Jasons mother, whom Clara had never met, sat in the first row. Her quiet sobs could be heard above the ministers words. Clara didnt care what the minister had to say, as it was all flowery sentiment, anyway. She knew it had no bearing on where Jason had gone, or how quickly he get there. What was done was already done.

Max stood behind his daughter, his hands on her shoulders. He had been keeping a careful eye on her all day, somewhat concerned with her extreme calm. Stephanie and Kerri had joined them, though Stephanie had kept her distance somewhat from Clara. She knew Clara was deeply, profoundly touched by what had happened, and felt that she had no place at the moment to offer condolences or comfort. She just hoped that in time her daughter could forgive her.

Clara glanced beyond the gathered mourners, looking out into the rest of the beautifully maintained cemetery. She noticed a woman sitting on one of the many stone benches scattered throughout the grounds. At first she thought the woman was visiting a grave when she realized she recognized the woman. She recognized her dark hair, the bangs pinned back away from her face. She sat quietly, one leg crossed over the other, her gaze fixed on Clara. The woman smiled, and Clara wasnt sure what to think.

The girl looked away, turning her attention back to the situation at hand when again, she felt her eye pulled away from Jasons services, and back toward the stone bench. The woman was still sitting there. Clara knew it was the same woman who shed seen standing just in front of the backyard gate the night she took the trash out.

Ill come to you when youre ready.

Clara heard the words as clear as day in her mind, yet knew they werent her thoughts. She watched as the woman raised her hand in a quick wave, then stood from the bench, walking off into the cemetery, fading out of sight as she got further away.

Everything okay? Max asked, glancing over to where Clara seemed to be visually riveted.

Clara nodded. Fine.

Max squeezed her shoulders and the minister continued on.

After the services, everyone reconvened in the church basement for a dinner held in Jasons honor. The space was a big, open room where foldable tables and chairs had been set up. A buffet-style lunch was being served at the front of the room, people talking to each other as they stood in line, waiting for their turn, many with plastic Dixie plate in hand.

Clara and her family had taken a table about halfway down the rows. Stephanie had disappeared to find the restroom while Kerri had found a couple of her friends who had come in support. Max sat across from his youngest, holding her hands in his. He studied her face  a poker face. Completely expressionless. He was very worried about her. At least when she was crying he knew what she was feeling. But this

Hey, guys. Mind if my friend, Abby joins us?

Max and Clara looked up to see Kerry standing at the head of the table, her blonde soccer teammate in tow. Clara felt her breath catch, and nervous butterflies take flight.

No, hon, thats fine. You girls have a seat, Max said unaware of the state of turmoil Claras emotions had suddenly become. To make things worse, Abby sat in the chair to Claras left.

Clara looked straight ahead, unable to meet the older girls intense, green gaze, which she could feel on her.

Listen, Clara, um, Abby said, her voice soft. I wanted to say Im really sorry about your friend. Its terrible what happened to him. She paused, sipping from the plastic Dixie cup filled with iced tea. I also thought you should know that you were right. About my grandma.

That got Claras attention. She looked over at the girl, taking a huge gulp of air first to settle her nerves. It didnt work. Thank you  for Jason. And, shes okay?

Abby nodded enthusiastically. Not only is she okay, but after the surgery we had to put her in one of those homes. She met Jed there.

Jed?

Her new boyfriend. See, my grandfather died back in the 1970s, and shes been alone. Theyre very happy.

Claras grin was small, but genuine. Im so glad. Thanks for telling me.

Come on, Abby. The line has gone down. Lets get some food.

Clara watched as Abby joined her friend, and they pushed through the waves of people and to the food line.

You hungry? Want to get some food? Max asked, nodding toward the laden tables.

Not really, Clara muttered.

Honey, youve barely eaten since all this happened. You really need to eat. He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. Okay?

Here we go, Stephanie said, suddenly materializing, seemingly from nowhere. She had a heaped plate balanced on either palm, setting one down in front of Max, and a second in front of Clara.

This is a ton of food, Mom, the girl complained, noting the pasta, salad, roll with butter, small piece of carrot cake, and a huge meatball. She quickly glanced up to see if she could catch another glimpse of Abby in the food line, but her mother inadvertently sat in the exact spot that would block her view. Clara turned her attention back to her food.

I know it is, but I wasnt sure what youd want. Just eat what you want. Stephanie, not all that hungry herself, picked a carrot of her daughters plate, and took a roll shed put on Maxs plate for herself.

Clara felt horrible, knowing that her mother was doing all that she could to make it up to her. During the past couple days, having Max back in her life, Clara had made a decision, and she knew it would break her mothers heart. It was a much easier decision to make when she was angry with Stephanie. She wanted to live with her dad.

Clara kept her attention on her packing, neatly folding a t-shirt before settling it inside the suitcase with the others. Her mother stood on the other side of her bed, doing the same. Things had been tense in the Greenwold house for the past week, since the night of Jasons funeral when Clara had made her intensions known. Just as shed feared, her mother had been deeply hurt, and Kerri hadnt spoken to her all week.

Is it something I did, Clara? Stephanie asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

Clara glanced up at her mother, who refused to meet her daughters gaze. No, she said, her voice quiet.

Then why, Clara? Stephanie asked, slamming down the pair of shorts she had been folding. Why are you breaking up your family?

Mom, I cant talk to you about this, Clara said, feeling defensive.

Why? Stephanies anger and hurt was full-blown, now. Why cant you talk to me? Why wont you talk to me? Am I that bad?

Clara felt her heart pounding, but let her own anger get her through. Because youll judge me! she cried, glaring. You judge everything I do. You dont accept me for me, and I cant stand it! You didnt listen to me, and now Jason is dead because of it. Dad listens! He understands, or at least tries to! Clara was trembling as years of rage and hurt came out in one huge burst.

A pregnant silence filled the room as both looked away, unable to meet the others gaze for their own reasons. Finally Stephanie headed towards the door. Youd better hurry. Your dad will be here soon. With that, she left, slamming the door behind her.

Clara collapsed on the bed, feeling bad, but knowing that she had to be honest. She had to finally say what had been bothering her for years. Unexpectedly, she felt a short, but intense wave of emotion engulf her, and then silent tears sprang from her eyes. She was utterly baffled as she tried to wipe them away. She felt fine  other than really angry  and had no need to cry. As soon as shed wipe a tear away, two more came to take its place. It was almost as though she were someone else for a moment, and the tears were from them, not from Clara.

Finally the emotion subsided, and Clara shook herself. That was weird, she whispered.

Parting certainly was sweet sorrow - as Clara had read in a Shakespeare play  as she left her mothers house, and the home shed grown up in. All of her family memories were in that house, basically. All of her belongings had been loaded into her fathers truck, and now she stood at the front door, Max behind her, looking at an obviously angry Kerri, and her mother, who could barely hold her gaze.

If you need anything, you call me. Okay? Stephanie said quietly, doing her best to hold in her tears. Her youngest nodded, and Stephanie took the girl in for a tight hug.

Clara couldnt help but feel like a traitor of some sort. Especially with the way Kerry was shooting her daggers. She hugged her mother, then stepped away, glancing over at Kerri, who promptly turned and left the room. Well, guess thats that.

I love you, Clara, Stephanie whispered.

I love you, too. With that, Clara turned and followed her father out the door, unable to be in the house for a moment longer.

Chapter 7

1991

Clara chewed on her bottom lip, shrugging her backpack higher onto her shoulder. She took a deep breath, her gaze scanning over the much larger campus than the high school that was close to her moms house. The one where Kerri was a Senior. Now, Clara would start her high school career as a Freshman at John Freed High School.

At one time she had so looked forward to high school. At least she had Jason to start the new phase in their lives. She sighed, sad. Now, she was completely alone. Not only in a new school level, but a new side of town! She had very few friends back in middle school, but at least knew her peers. Not so much, now. Yes, shed done it to herself, by moving in with her dad. But still

She was dressed in brand new clothes, a new backpack carrying her new school supplies  pens, (she hated pencils) notebooks, a calculator and folders  and a new haircut. Shed always worn her brown hair long, mostly because Kerri did, but she decided she needed a change. When Clara had first looked in the mirror at the hair salon, shed nearly swallowed her tongue. It was now short, though not boyish. It was cut in lots of layers so it looked messy and daring. Completely opposite of what Clara really was.

Max had driven her to the school over the weekend so she could see how to get there, and how to get home. The school was less than a mile from her dads apartment, so she opted to walk. That is, until he bought her a car the following year. He flat said no, but she intended to work on him over the next year.

The school itself looked like any other high school: long halls with cinderblocks painted obnoxious colors of pastel, and highly-polished linoleum floors. The lockers were painted in alternating green and gold, the school colors, a huge hornet painted on one wall of the gymnasium. Who the hell had a bug as their school mascot, Clara wondered more than once.

Students plowed down the halls in groups and singles, most yelling out to each other after-summer greetings. Clara couldnt help but feel very alone and small in a sea of people who all seemed to know each other, even though she knew there was no way that was true. It sure felt that way, though.

Her locker was found easily enough. It was one that was painted green, as opposed to the gold on either side. The lock was set firmly in place, and she had to dig out the piece of paper that had been mailed to her, the six-digit locker combination written on it. She tried it a couple of times, her hands trembling from nerves, making her miss the correct number several times before the lock clicked, the heavy padlock falling away from the metal ring that held it in place.

Clara pulled open the metal door, taking in the shelf towards the top, giving a smaller space to put books, the long, lower part for hanging jackets, thus spoke the brass hooks affixed to the side wall of the locker. She let her backpack slide off her shoulder, squatting to unzip it and pull everything out. She only kept one notebook, two pens and a folder in the backpack, stowing the extras on the top nook. She had no jacket, so left the rest of the locker empty.

She felt somewhat safe, almost able to hide behind the opened door of the locker, able to shut out the rest of the activity around her. A glance at her watch told her that she had to be in first period  Italian  in six minutes. With a final sigh, she re-shouldered her now-lighter backpack, and slammed the locker shut, sliding the lock into place, and snapping it home.

The one part of her day that Clara had always hated the most was lunch time. It had always been a lonely, isolated part of her day. Well, since middle school, anyway. There school had been a large one, and had to divide the students into two different lunch periods. All three years  sixth, seventh and eighth grades  she and Jason had opposite lunches. Shed had a few casual friends or acquaintances who had taken pity on her from time to time, but over all, shed always eaten alone. Just as she was now.

The lunch room was large, much larger than what she was used to from the middle school. Much larger than the high school Kerri went to, too. Her father had given her money to buy a lunch, but she had instead used the five dollars to buy a Coke and a bag of chips from the small cantina. She had very little appetite, and didnt want to have to stand in line with all the strangers.

The cafeteria was in an open area, near banks of lockers. Tables were set up at the center of the large room, a padded bench running in a semi-circle around the area. On the outside of the benches was more space for people to gather and talk, as well as trashcans, and the cantina. Clara found herself a spot on the outskirts, her back resting against the cold metal of a locker. She watched all the activity, absently sipping her drink, the chips opened but untouched.

She noticed a couple standing over by the bathrooms, obviously in some sort of lovers quarrel. The girl looked as though she were ready to bolt, the boy looking as though he were trying desperately to explain something. Perhaps some bad behavior, Clara reasoned. As she watched the pair, an image came into mind:

The boy held a beer in his hand, his eyes unsteady and bloodshot. He was sitting in the drivers seat of a pickup truck. He was amorous. His face was flushed with arousal or anger, but whichever, it was strong and leading his thoughts.

The girl sat in the passenger seat, her hand on the door handle, about to push the door open. She looked angry, her hair mussed, lipstick smeared. Some heavy kissing and petting had happened.

The boy spoke, his mouth moving, yet no words escaping. The girl shook her head, glaring at him. She pulled on the door handle, the door about to open when the boy suddenly reached across the truck cab, closing and locking the door. The girl pushed him away, speaking in that strange, soundless talk. He grabbed her, cupping the back of her head, and trying to force her face down into his crotch.

The girl fought him, finally getting away from him and leaving him with a hard slap before letting herself out of the truck. She slammed the door, yelled something at him, then stomped away.

Clara blinked several times, trying to clear her head and get the images out of her head. She focused once more on the couple, able to tell now that he was trying to apologize. The girl looked as though she might cave, but Clara wasnt sure.

So, do you want to get your ass out of my way today, or should I wait for tomorrow?

Claras attention was ripped from the fighting couple, and to a girl standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, a foot tapping. She made her way from black combat boots up baggy, torn black pants to a fitted black tee. Finally, Clara looked into the owners face. Her long hair was down, hanging in her pale face. Her dark eye makeup made her look dangerous, completely creepy and unforgiving.

Do I know you? Clara asked, a memory sparking somewhere. The girl rolled dark eyes.

I dont give a shit. Move! She yanked on the lock attached to the locker Clara sat against, indicating it was her locker.

Clara scrambled out of the way, barely grabbing her bag of Doritos before a combat boot would have smashed them into powder. She gathered up her backpack and stood, holding the chips protectively to her chest. Jesus, she muttered, stunned at the girls nonchalance as she casually got into her locker. Youre rude.

The girl smirked, never taking her eyes off the tiny magnetic mirror mounted to the inside of her door. She was applying more blood-red lipstick. Been called worse. She puckered, then closed the cap on the lipstick, sliding it into her backpack and slamming her locker shut. Without another glance at Clara, she closed the locker, locked it and walked away.

I hate it! Clara exclaimed, slamming two plates onto the table, the already-placed forks jumping at the action.

Oh yeah? Max asked, eyeing his daughter as he put the finishing touches into the Hamburger Helper hed prepared. Whys that?

The kids there are mean. The school is friggin huge, and I got lost four times. My lock only opens half the time, and I didnt make a single friend. She collapsed into her chair, feeling quite sorry for herself. I think I want to go to South High.

Oh, no, Clara, Max said, taking his seat to Claras left. Were not going to play this game. He popped open the can of his Pepsi. You are not going to play this back and forth stuff. I love you, sweetpea, but it was too hard on your mom the first time. I wont allow you to put her through that again, unless you plan to stay there until youre married.

But, cant I just get a ride there? Live here and go to South? Clara asked, her hopes not totally dashed.

And whos gonna drive you? I have to be at work by crack-of-dawn a.m., and your mom is working now, too. You know damn well Kerri wont do it, and she shouldnt have to. No, he shook his head, taking a sip from his drink. You made your choice.

Clara looked at him, stunned. But, Dad! she whined.

But, what? he whined back, dishing out Hamburger Helper to her and himself. He was determined to keep the tone light on what he knew could potentially be a very heavy subject. Clara, youve given it one day. One, he held up a finger to emphasize his point. Nobody can make up their mind on one day, I promise you.

Clara sat back in her chair, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, both irritated and amused as she realized he wasnt going to give in to her pout. They both knew each other all too well. Fine, she sighed  for the sake of dramatics, of course  and began to eat her dinner.

Though she wasnt thrilled about it, Clara decided to give John Freed High School one more try. After all, she had to admit, even if begrudgingly so, it had been only one day. Starting any type new situation wasnt easy for her. She was shy and quiet by nature: more of an observer than a participant. Though that would help her later in life, as a teenager it was hell. She never quite felt she fit in anywhere, or with any group of people.

Clara walked through the halls, headed to lunch, and looked around at her peers. She looked at them all, really looked at them, and saw, to her amazement, some miserable faces in the crowd. Though she felt bad for those kids who, like herself, were singled out, it somehow made her feel a little better to know they were there. Though none of them knew each other or hung out per se, they were bonded together in some sort of strange glue of exceptionism.

That was somewhat fascinating to her, in some weird, warped way. Was it with humans like it was in nature? Survival of the strongest, the weak found out then mauled by the mighty lion? As she looked around, she had to smirk to herself. Despite appearances, it was quite obvious to her who the actual strong and weak were. The popular, desired kids hung around in packs  safety in numbers, whereas the supposed weaker of the specimen were alone, strong enough to be themselves, without the support of the masses.

Philosophizing done for the day, Clara headed to her math class.

A month into Claras stay at John Freed High School, she sat outside, enjoying the last of the warm weather before autumn began to rear its head. She sat with her back against the three-story brick building, her lunch bag sitting between her spread feet, a half-eaten apple in her hand. She sat at the back of the building where an area had been set up for outdoor lunchers. Stone tables and benches dotted the area, as well as trashcans. Out beyond the lunch area was fenced off, separating those eating with those who had gym class. The sports field was circled with a track for runners.

Clara watched the current class that stood around in small groups on the sports field. Their teacher, Coach Raybrush, was talking to a couple students, leaving the others to mill around or talk, all looking bored. Something caught Claras eye, making her turn to her left. She saw a man walking away from the parking lot that ran along the back of the stadium seating that was on either of the long sides of the track. He was walking toward the side of the building, something carried in his hand.

She dropped her apple in the brown paper bag, leaving it with her backpack as she got to her feet. The man was dressed in brown, baggy pants, nearly covering the tops of the brown, leather shoes he wore. His white button up shirt was smudged, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The outfit was topped off by a worn, wool flat cap.

Clara felt a strange wave rush through her insides as she began to follow. His pace was brisk, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything around him. As Clara rounded the side of the building, she caught a glimpse of him, walking right toward the brick wall. She realized that what he carried in his hand was a giant wrench, nearly three-foot in length. It looked lethal. She gasped softly as she watched him walk right through the wall.

Trying to calculate what lay on the other side of that wall, Clara hurried into the school, making her way down a long, quiet hall. She could hear the murmurings of teachers behind the closed doors that lined the corridor. In a distant hall, she heard laughter from a girl, joined by that of a second.

Trying to stay unnoticed, Clara got her mental bearings, closing her eyes as she mapped out the layout of the school, compared to where shed seen the man outside. She hurried down an adjacent hall to where she was, finding herself at a dead end, with stairs going up, and stairs going down. At a crossroads, she looked in either direction, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to decide where to go.

Down.

Clara was startled at the voice in her head, but decided to follow it. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, she scurried down the stairs. The short staircase led to a landing, then anther set, leading her into the bowels of the building. She had never been there, and immediately felt a sense of unease. The corridor wasnt extremely well lit, the bulbs overhead flickering in some cases, and completely burnt out in others. She knew the building was old, but had been added to over the years. It seemed the basement was part of the original structure.

Closed doors lined the hall, each with a labeling plaque: STORAGE, MAINTENANCE, ELECTRICAL, BOILER, and finally, OFF LIMITS! She looked at each door in turn, trying to decide where to go. She felt drawn to the door marked boiler.

Damn, she murmured, noting the deadbolt lock  shiny and new against the backdrop of old wood, and an old, brass knob. Her logic told her that the guy was probably long gone, and she should just go finish her lunch, and get out of there. Then she reasoned, in an illogical situation, logic isnt the best tool to use. In her mind, this was anything but a logical situation, so tried the knob. To her surprise, not only did it turn, but the door pushed open.

Immediately Clara was hit in the face with the smell of old, stale air. A deep, throbbing hum could be heard deep inside the room. She pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, once again, making sure she hadnt been spotted. The door closed behind her, Clara looked around the room shed just entered. Too late, she realized she had no flashlight, matching, nothing. There were lights on in the large, dank room, but they were naked bulbs, and only a handful at best. They gave off a dim, buttery light that set Claras nerves on end.

She stopped to look around and get her bearings. The floor of the room was poured cement only for the first ten feet or so from the door, then ended in packed dirt. It looked as though the outer skirts of the room was the walkway, the center filled with huge machinery, theyre oiled parts moving and purring with a rumble that Clara could feel in the pit of her stomach.

Looking left then right, she settled on heading right, careful to keep away from anything that could potentially catch her clothing, her hurt her. She understood mechanics about as much as she understood how to jump off a cliff and fly to Tahiti with only the flapping of her bare arms.

As she made her way around, she saw something in a dim corner. It looked as though something  some sort of paper - had been taped to the brick wall. She walked over to it, and realized it was in fact a newspaper. A very old newspaper. Not wanting to destroy the paper, she peered closely at it, trying to discern what the picture was, and the words that accompanied it.

The faded image on the severely yellowed paper was of a brick structure, a third the size of the current one. Clara wasnt sure where it was until she noted a familiar-looking patch of trees. The article was dated June 10, 1896.

Wow, Clara whispered, her eyes roving over the somewhat fuzzy picture. A group of people stood in front of it, smiling proudly. Most looked to be officious types, dressed in fine clothing: ladies in larger than life gowns of gorgeous fabrics and styles, their men in top hats and gloves.

Dead center of the posing crowd was an older man, distinguished and very wealthy-looking. On his arm was a lovely young woman, at least twenty years younger than the man, a partial smile on her lips. Claras gaze was drawn to a figure standing off away from the others. His features were far too blurry to be able to discern, but he was dressed in a button up shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a flat cap on his head. He seemed to be looking at the pretty woman standing with the gentleman center of the photograph.

Oh, thats cool, she murmured, grinning.. She felt in her gut that the man was the same shed seen earlier, and was chasing. Her head whipped around when she heard a bang  metal on metal. She peered into the dimness, trying to make her eyes focus. The bang came again, this time clearly coming from the back of the room.

Clara turned away from the newspaper article, trying to be as quiet as she could, in case it was a maintenance guy working. She was pretty sure shed be in trouble if she got caught in the boiler room of her high school. She inched closer, listening and trying to keen all her senses. She heard the banging again, a hollow ping, ping, ping. She could see a dark corner, but the shadows were complete, and she could see just enough to know there was no one there, though the sound seemed to originate from there.

What the

?

There was a slight pause in the banging, Claras heart pounding in her ears as she held her breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Her entire body was in a state of alert, her nervous system primed and ready for anything. So she thought.

As the pounding continued, the figure of the man slowly faded into view. He was swearing as he used the wrench in his hand to bang on something that was no longer there. He stopped, squatting as though examining something, not paying a bit of attention to his audience of one. He stood, about to start his pounding again when he stopped, looking to his left, which was right where Clara was standing. She was about to run, but then realized he wasnt seeing her at all.

His face spread into a grin, and Clara nearly gasped when suddenly a young woman was standing next to him, out of breath as though shed just run a great distance. Claras entire body felt as though it had just been shocked by electricity, her hear pounding, every hair standing on end.

When she looked closer, Clara realized it was the same woman from the newspaper article, in her Sunday best. Their figures seemed solid in the dim light, though Clara had the feeling if lights were turned on, they would fade into the brightness.

The couple embraced, then  with heads lowered together  seemed to engage in a serious conversation, though no sound could be heard. Claras heart continued to pound, and for a moment she felt as though she were witnessing something she shouldnt, as though she were intruding.

She began to feel incredibly uneasy as the temperature around her began to drop significantly. The entire atmosphere of the boiler room changed, and Clara felt a strong need to run, never to look back. Foreboding, and dread prickled along her arms. A huge bolt of energy rushed through her, making her take several steps back. Hand to her chest, she saw two men seem to burst from the shadows of where shed just been standing moments before, their intent obvious as they grabbed the young man. His flat cap fell to the floor as the three began to fight, the woman knocked down, her hand held to her mouth in terror as she watched.

Claras eyes grew huge as she saw the man in the brown pants use all his strength, managing to push one of the assailants off of him, hen taking his wrench in both hands and swinging with all his might. He hit one of his attackers in the stomach, doubling him over, while the other went at him again. The man swung the wrench one more time, again aiming at his attackers, when the man jumped out of the way of the heavy, lethal tool.

Clara gasped in horror as she saw the metal slam into the fallen womans head. As if choreographed in some play, the two attackers disappeared, the man falling to his knees. The next thing Clara saw, the wrench had seemingly disappeared, as well, leaving the man in brown sitting on the ground, holding the woman in his arms. Her eyes were closed, a bloody gash at her temple. Clara figured she was probably dead. The man holding her was crying, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

Reaching a hand up, Clara wiped away her own tears, unknowingly leaving a smudge mark on her cheek, her hands dirty from trying to feel her way along the time-dirtied walls. Her heart felt heavy as she saw the man raise his face to the Heavens, eyes squeezed shut, mouth opened as an anguished cry slipped out, filling the small space, and completely startling Clara. As the echoes died away, so did the figures.

She shook herself out of it when she realized that his flat cap still lay where it had fallen. Wiping at her tears again, she walked over to it. As she was about to reach for it, it slowly faded away, leaving only hard, packed earth, littered with greasy stains.

Chapter 8

Clara made her way back up to the main floor of the school, glad that the halls were quiet. They must not have passed for lunch, yet, which meant she could sneak back outside, grab her backpack and hurry to her locker before she had to head to her next class.

She beat her fingertips against the sides of her thighs in an absent beat as she thought back over what shed just witnessed. Shed heard of that kind of thing before, and knew it was referred to as a residual haunting, which meant it was  in theory, anyway  the residual energy from a traumatic event that kept it happening again and again. The spirits arent even really there, but the memory of them was.

What a horrible thing to happen! She wondered what the story was, and decided she wanted to do some research on the school: the history of the building, the history of the people associated with it. She imagined the library downtown might have something on that. Or, maybe even the school library. If she had time after school, maybe shed duck inside and see what there was to be found.

You are in some pretty big trouble, my friend.

Clara jumped at the unexpected voice, and the unexpected presence of her someone suddenly walking beside her. She glanced over to see Mr. Estrata, her English teacher.

Thats odd, she thought, I dont have his class until last period.

Why? she asked, about to take a turn at the end of the hall, which would lead to the doors headed outside. She just wanted to grab her backpack and get back to her day.

Nope. Come with me. He guided her to follow him to the main hall where the office was. To her shock, two uniformed policemen were standing just outside the office, one speaking with Max.

What the

 A sense of dread fell over Clara. Oh my god! Is everything okay? she asked, bursting into a run to get to her father. She was stunned cold in her tracks when he looked up at her. Maxs face went from shock to relief to rage.

Where the hell have you been?! he demanded, hurrying over to her. Do you have any idea how worried everyone has been? Any idea at all?

It was then that Clara realized one of the policemen was holding her backpack, his hands covered in latex gloves.

No. I didnt know. Whats going on?

Youve turned this school upside down, thats whats going on! Max was trembling, his face red, the vein at the center of his forehead popping. I get a call at work from your principal asking me if I know where the hell youre at. Thats whats going on. No one had seen you since lunch, you missed all your classes, and then someone found your bag outside, half the stuff inside spilled out on the ground.

Alexander Estrata could see that things might get out of hand, so stepped in. Mr. Greenwold, he said quietly, partially stepping in front of the irate man. He knew Claras dad was far less likely to try anything with him than with the girl. Lets everyone calm down.

Max wanted to rip the mans face off, but realized he was right, and grounding Clara for the rest of her life wouldnt change how afraid hed been. He took a deep breath, and a step away from the man with the dress pants, blue button up shirt and blue and gray stripped tie.

Im sorry, Dad, Clara said, her voice quiet. A glance at the office clock told her it was nearly four-thirty. Where had the time gone? How was it possible shed been in the boiler room for four hours? She felt terrible, and had never seen her father so upset before. Certainly not at her!

My name is Alex Estrata, the English teacher said. I teach one of Claras classes. He turned to his student. Clara, what happened? Are you okay? His brows drew when he noticed a smudge on her cheek, and what appeared to be tear tracks through it.

Max noticed at the same time. Oh my god! Clara! He grabbed both shoulders in large hands, leaning in to get a closer look. Are you okay? What happened? Who did this to you?

Completely baffled, Clara could only stare at her frantic father. What? Hurt me? No one did. She shook her head to emphasize her claim. I

 Her voice trailed off as she realized she wasnt entirely sure what to tell them, especially when she had five pairs of expectant eyes on her, now that Mr. Swan, the John Freed High School principal, had joined them. Suddenly she felt as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

Clara? Max asked. He knew his daughter well enough to know that she had been doing something she maybe shouldnt have. He could tell she was fine and unharmed, and though it was a great relief, it almost made his anger return full force. That, however, could wait.

I fell asleep, she said, knowing it sounded as lame as it felt.

You fell asleep, Mr. Swan repeated, arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious he didnt believe her. Where?

Listen, Mr. Swan, Max interjected, its been a long day. Why dont you let me get her home and cleaned up, then I can talk to her. I know you fellas probably want to get home.

The principal and English teacher glanced at their watches. You will talk to her? Mr. Swan asked, eyeing Max with a raised brow.

Max nodded. You bet your butt I will. He looked at Clara with a stern gaze. As soon as we get home.

Feeling somewhat nullified, the principal nodded, then turned to the officers, thanking them for their time, then headed into the office. Alex Estrada was amused, though very curious. He liked the quiet girl, and felt there was a lot more to her than most people thought or saw.

See you tomorrow, kid, he said, squeezing Claras shoulder, then heading back to his classroom to pack up for the night.

Left with her father, Clara looked up at him with big, sheepish eyes. Lets go.

Clara took her backpack, which one of the officers had handed him, and dutifully followed him out to his car.

Clara could feel Maxs eyes on her as she poked at her baked chicken. Feeling bad, shed made an attempt at making her fathers favorite dish, using her mothers recipe. She assumed it must have tasted good, as her father had gotten a second helping, but she was barely able to get through her first.

So? Max asked after a long silence. Are you going to tell me what happened?

What if I said you wouldnt believe me if I told you? Clara countered, pushing her peas into the scalloped potatoes, watching the gooey mixture.

What if I said youre just as grounded either way, so you might as well tell me.

Clara had to stop herself from smirking at that. Grounded. It wasnt like there was anything to ground her from. She didnt do anything to be grounded from. Finally she sighed, setting her fork down to stop the pretense that she was going to actually eat anything. Finally she met her fathers curious gaze.

You have to promise not to laugh.

Okay. Max continued to eat, knowing what he was about to hear would be good. He was just glad he hadnt called Stephanie yet when Clara showed up. The girls mother would have needed counseling to get over the trauma.

I was sitting at lunch, outside, when I saw a guy walk through the wall of the building.

Max stopped eating, stared at his daughter.

You said you wouldnt laugh! Clara complained, feeling insecure.

I hardly think Im laughing, he said quietly.

She gave a dramatic sigh. Anyway, I was curious, so I ran inside the building, trying to figure out where hed walked into. I ended up in the basement, in the boiler room, where I saw him. Clara paused, unsure how to continue her story. Should she tell him everything she saw? Should she just glaze over it, keeping the details to herself?

Max could see the indecision on his daughters face, and knew she had seen something that had either bothered her, or had somehow touched her in some way. What did you see, Clara? he asked, setting his own fork aside. He had the feeling she needed his whole, undivided attention.

I

I think something really terrible happened in that basement, Dad. I think a woman was killed.

A woman? You just said you saw a man.

I did. But there was a woman, too. She was accidentally hit in the head. Clara told her father the entire story, not passing over one detail. She could see it fresh in her mind again as she told the tale, and it made her hunger that much stronger to find out what had actually happened there.

So, Max said, after hed heard the entire incredible story. Youre telling me that you saw an event that happened almost a hundred years ago? At his daughters nod, he took a drink from his Pepsi, taking the moment to gather his thoughts. Letting out a loud belch, he continued. How is that possible?

Clara shrugged. Im not sure. I do have a theory, though. I think its something that was so traumatic that happened in that boiler room that the energy was somehow

I dont know

trapped, I guess. Doomed to replay the events over and over again.

That sounds a little far fetched, sweetpea. Even for you. Max crushed the empty soda can, doing an overhead toss for the can to clang into the open trash can near the back door.

I know its crazy, but I swear every word is true.

So then explain why you were away for four hours. Where did you go?

I was down there the entire time. I truly thought Id only been down there for maybe thirty minutes. Forty-five, tops.

Max looked at her, boring his unbelieving gaze into her until it burned. Clara, dont lie.

Im not! She was hurt he didnt believe her. She knew her story was crazy, and even sounded like shed made the entire thing up, but surely he knew shed never lie to him about something like that.

Okay, okay. I surrender, Max said, holding his hands up. He sighed, sitting back in his chair. So, what are you going to tell that principal of yours tomorrow?

Can I be sick tomorrow? Clara muttered, looking down at her plate, which had become a lot more appetizing now that she had gotten everything, and knew her father believed her.

Max laughed. Hardly. But you need to come up with something. Somehow I dont think the truth in this case is the wisest course of action.

Clara grinned. Why, Dad, are you telling me to lie?

Maxs grin matched that f his daughter. Yep. Pretty much.

Chapter 9

The microfiche rolled by, Clara watching intently, pen held between her teeth. She scanned the articles, looking for anything dealing with the building that had once stood at 2500 E. Parker Street, but then had been expanded to John Freed High School.

Shed been at the downtown library for over an hour, her focus on only one thing. It had been a week since her boiler room adventure, and it was the first day that her father had allowed her out of the house, other than for school purposes, or to see her mom. Kerri had swung by earlier that Saturday morning to spend some time with Max, and volunteered to drop Clara off at the library on her way to work. Her mother would be picking her up when she got off work, and mother and daughter would head to dinner, and then Clara would be spending the weekend. The whole parents separated thing kind of sucked, in Claras humble opinion.

Here are those articles you requested, Miss.

Clara looked up to see the elderly librarian standing next to her, a folder in her outstretched hand.

Oh! Thank you. She took the folder, and immediately began to finger through them. They were photo copies made of old, bound newspapers that the public had no access to, for fear of their delicate pages being destroyed through handling and misuse.

Clara put aside several of the articles until one caught her eye. She was face to face with the same newspaper page shed seen in the boiler room. She studied the faces of the players once more: the man in the brown pants and flat cap, and the beautiful young woman who had been so brutally  and accidentally  murdered. Looking at her face, Clara was once again able to see her lifeless body held in the young mans arms, the blood trickling down the side of her face from the horrible head gash. Flipping to the page behind the one with the picture on it, she read the article.

June 10, 1896: In a lavish ceremony this morning, Senator John Freed and his new bride, Josie, led the excitement of the opening of John Freed Conservatory.

Clara read on, learning that John Freed  aged 53 at the time of the opening of his building, had been a steel barren from Pittsburgh, and after the death of his wife Mildred the previous spring, hed married 19 year old Josie Rasputin, the daughter of a successful local merchant. Nowhere could Clara find out who the young man was.

She put the article aside, and soon had an answer to her question. The front page of the June 11, 1896 edition of the Daily Record, boasted a haunting photo of the young man being led toward a building, the word JAIL bolding shown above the door. He was flanked by uniformed officers, their Billy clubs in hand. He was looking down, refusing to look into the lens of the camera, nor the crowd that had gathered outside the jail.

She read the accompanying article, shocked to find out that the man  William Compton, aged 23  was actually John Freeds nephew, who he was trying to help, and had recently moved into the Freed estate. William and Josie had apparently fallen in love, and had plans to run away together. Though the article mentioned nothing of it, Clara knew instinctively that Freed had hired the two thugs to either kill William, or beat some sense into him. According to the article, William had gotten angry when Josie refused to go through with the plan, instead choosing her love for her husband. William became angry, and in a violent rage, murdered the young woman in cold blood.

Clara gasped when she looked at the next page, which was an article from three days later, and the a newspaper mans sketch of events. William had been found guilty of the crime of murder, and hanged. His lifeless body was seen hanging from the gallows, the crowd drawn in as cheering and throwing bits of food at the corpse.

God, thats horrible, she said, a hand covering her mouth.

Whats horrible?

Clara whipped around, surprised to see Stephanie setting her purse down on the table next to the microfiche machine Clara had been using. She sat in a chair next to her daughter. Stephanie looked tired, her hair slightly disheveled from a long day. She was putting in long hours at her new job, a bakery in town.

Stunned into silence by the sudden arrival of her mother, Clara could only stare. Hi, she finally managed.

Hey, sweetie. Stephanie was so happy to see her youngest. She felt a bit self-conscious, as she knew she stunk from a day in front of a hot oven, but she reached over and gave Clara a tight hug, anyway. Once they parted, she indicated all the pages in Claras lap, as well as the old newspaper article on the microfiche reader screen. Whats all this?

Oh, um, Clara chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, trying to think quickly. I have a research paper to do for school. Im doing it on the history of the John Freed High School building.

Very cool. Well, are you ready, honey? Im tired.

Yeah. Let me get this stuff cleaned up and returned.

Clara had agreed to help her mother make dinner at Stephanies house, rather than go out somewhere. Though Max was helping financially, money was tight, and Stephanie was exhausted working so many extra hours. The night had gone well, thus far, both mother and daughter talking freely as they prepared Claras favorite meatloaf together.

Clara was filled with completely mixed emotions, standing hip to hip with the woman shed seen every day of her life up to a month and a half ago. She still was ravaged with guilt for moving in with her father, though she still knew in her heart was the best thing for her. Was it the best thing for Stephanie, though? She knew her mom was also filled with conflicting emotions: she felt her own guilt over Jason, and couldnt help but wonder if shed pushed her daughter away because of that. She felt betrayed, mostly, however. Max had screwed up. Hed been the one fucking some nameless woman, and then hed been the one whod left. Yet, Clara had chosen to go live with him instead of staying at home and supporting her mother.

Do you still like living with your dad? Stephanie asked quietly.

Clara sighed softly, knowing that the conversation would come up eventually. Yeah, Mom, I do. Besides, the girl grinned, trying to add a bit of levity to the situation, I think youve ruined him for life. If I werent there, Im not sure hed know which was his head and which was a hole in the ground.

Not spoiled enough to not fuck around though, huh? Stephanie snapped, regretting the comment the moment it was out of her mouth. She couldnt stand to see the stung expression on Claras face. Im sorry, sweetie. I promised you I wouldnt talk about it, and I wont. She gave the girl a brave smile. Subject closed.

Clara was relieved, and just hoped that her mother would abide by it. She wanted very much to spend time with the older woman, but couldnt do it if it was going to be a slam-her-father marathon. How are things at the bakery? Kerri said theyre already talking about training you to be an assistant manager.

Stephanies smile lit up her entire face. Stephanie Greenwold was a naturally beautiful woman, with blonde hair and brown eyes. Her skin was like peaches and cream, and she had a wonderful smile. It wasnt hard to see what Max had seen in her twenty years before. That they are. The pride was evident in her voice, which made Clara automatically proud, too.

Mom, thats great! She reached over and gave her mother a one-armed hug. Im so happy for you!

Thanks. Stephanie stuck her tongue out between her teeth in a mischievous grin. Someday Ill own that place.

Oh, I have no doubts, whatsoever.

They continued on in silence until Stephanie spoke again. So, any cute guys at your new school? She glanced over at her daughter, who she thought looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Clara was uncomfortable. She had to bite the inside of her cheek when Abby Jensen popped into her minds eye at the question. Behave. Well, you know, Mom, she stuttered, new school and all. I think I want to get my bearings before I worry about that stuff.

Stephanie studied her daughter for a moment, but then turned back to the salad shed begun to toss. She thought back for a moment, and realized that shed never heard Clara talk about any boys. Except

She gasped, a hand covering her mouth. Clara, she whispered. Were you and Jason

, you know.

Clara looked at her mother, stunned, and then she saw the grief and realization on Stephanies face. Her mind whirled, trying to decide what she should say. It was certainly get her off the hook as far as the boy topic went. Forgive me, Jason. Well, kind of, she muttered.

Oh, honey! Stephanie grabbed her daughter in a tight hug, holding her close. Shed never fully been able to get over her guilt over what had happened to the boy and his father. She would forever feel that somehow she was responsible. If only shed let Clara call

Its okay, Mom, Clara murmured, allowing herself to get lost in the hug. Every girl needed a good hug from their mom, and she didnt get those all that often anymore. She gave her mother one final squeeze, then let her go with a smile. Come on. Lets eat.

Clara walked into the living room, Stephanie insisting on doing the dishes while the girl got herself comfortable. She walked around the room she knew as well as the back of her own hand. Fourteen years spent in a house, all gone. Down the drain. There were times when she wanted to go to her father and grab him by the ears, shake him until he got some sense back in him. Though part of her did understand why he left, a bigger part didnt, and hated it. Standing in her childhood home, she realized that she wanted nothing more than for her family to be put back together again.

She noted that the house wasnt as clean as it used to be. She knew Stephanie wasnt home as much anymore, and Kerri had a full schedule  soccer, school, (senior year, no less) and a new boyfriend. There were unread magazines scattered across the living room table, as though thrown there when theyd come in with the mail. A small stack of old newspapers sat on one of the chairs, and a thin layer of dust covered the top of the TV.

Claras eye was caught by a framed picture which had sat on the mantle as long as she could remember. Walking over to it, she reached out, brushing her fingertips across the smooth glass. Ironically, it seemed as though the wood frame was dust free, as was the glass. The picture inside was old, yellowed with age. In it a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, sat, three young children grouped around her  two girls and a boy  and a fourth child on her lap, a toddler.

Taking hold of the frame, Clara brought it off the mantle and closer, her eyes raking over the children, intentionally avoiding the woman for the moment. She easily found her mother, all blonde hair and frilly dress. She was standing next to the oldest child, her older sister, Carol Ann, who was also killed in the car accident, which would happen little more than a year from the time the photo had been taken. The only boy, James  named after his father - knelt in front of his mother, a cute boy with a slightly perplexed look on his face. He was, after all, only around three years old.

Claras gaze reluctantly traveled to the woman, her grandmother. She was beautiful, her hair in the typical style of the 1950s, her dress just so. Clara brought the picture closer, looking into her grandmothers eyes. She felt a chill run down her spine, as though those eyes were looking right into her soul, and not out of a simple piece of photo paper.

She shivered, looking away with great effort. Clara tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, her stomach roiling with a strange nervousness. It was the same every time she dared look at that photograph, and had been since she was a small child. She took several deep breaths, pushing a strange sense of grief away, and setting the frame back in its place. She looked at it once more, then turned away.

It had been a good night. The smile on Claras face was certainly indicative of that. She lay in her old bed, the familiar shadows all around her, as well as her posters and glow-in-the-dark stars. She stared up at those, reacquainting herself with them, just as she did every time she spent the night at her moms. And, to make things even better, Kerri had spent the night with a friend, so Clara and her mom had the place to themselves.

Clara did have to admit that things between her and her sister had gotten better once she moved out, though. Her and Kerri just werent meant to live together. Living in separate households, Kerri wasnt able to boss Clara around, and actually seemed somewhat happy to see her younger sister when they saw each other. Perhaps there was hope for them yet. Maybe Kerri wasnt such a pain in the ass after all.

Nah, Clara said, conviction in her voice. She still is. There was a soft knock at the closed bedroom door. Come in.

The door opened and Stephanie stepped inside the dark room. Hey. Were you asleep? She walked over to Claras bed, looking down at her.

Clara shook her head. No. Just contemplating what level of a pain Kerri still is.

Stephanie looked confused for a moment, but shrugged it off. Okay. Well, I hope you came to some sort of conclusion. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

Yeah. I concluded that she is still a pain, but its easier to handle not living with her.

Stephanie tried not to smile, knowing that her girls had never fully gotten along. She knew they loved each other, but two people couldnt possibly be any more different than Clara and Kerri. She knew from her own troubled relationship with her younger sister that siblings werent always the easiest.

Whats up? Clara asked, knocking Stephanie from her train of thought.

I wanted to talk to you about something. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Stephanie sighed, looking out the moonlight-filled window. I just hope youre not mad at me when Ive finished.

Is it bad? Clara asked, scooting over a bit further in her bed to make more room for her mother.

Stephanie shook her head. Not exactly. But you might call me quite the hypocrite.

Oh! Something to hold over your head!

Stephanie chuckled. Maybe. She cleared her throat and her thoughts. As you know, Ive always been uncomfortable with your abilities.

Clara was stunned by the topic of conversation, but remained quiet, very curious to hear what her mother had to say.

I knew when you were very young that you had a gift, Clara. Several gifts, Id wager. She continued to look out the window, unable to look her daughter in the eye. Theres a reason it makes me uncomfortable. She finally did look at Clara, barely able to see her face in the dark bedroom. Maybe that was for the best. When I was a little girl, living with Aunt Bess and Uncle George, I always used to see a man standing in the closet of the room I shared with my cousin Gail. She grew silent, shooting back in time to the bedroom of a terrified young girl. Hed always stare at me, she whispered, lost in memory. I was so afraid of him.

Clara was stunned, not only by what she was hearing, but by the fear she could hear in her mothers voice. She reached out and took a trembling hand in hers. Stephanie didnt even notice, so lost was she in events long past.

He started moving things in the house. Hiding things. Making noises  bangs, crashes, footsteps. Her voice trailed off.

Clara studied her mothers face, well illuminated by the moonlight, able to see not only fear, but also angry bitterness. They blamed you, didnt they?

Stephanie was pulled back to the present by Claras perceptiveness. She nodded. Yeah, they did. Life with them was hard enough after our parents were killed, but then to add that on top of it, too. I dont know, she shrugged. Aunt Bess made me feel like I was crazy and dirty when Id tell her about the man. Id try and defend my brother and sister, but she never believed me on that, either. Said I was wicked, and it was all my fault.

Im so sorry, Mom. What do you think the man was?

Stephanie looked at Clara for a long moment, trying to think of a way to answer that. What indeed? Shed never been asked that question before, and wasnt sure how to answer it. I guess I think he was a mean spirit. He enjoyed taunting us, especially me, because he knew I could see him.

Clara allowed what shed been told to process, mentally filling in spaces that had been left blank by many years of confusion. So, after the way you were treated, why did you keep yourself in denial about me?

Stephanie shook her head. I wasnt in denial, Clara. I was hoping that if I didnt encourage it, maybe you would grow out of it, or block it out. Something. Its not an easy road to take, and I didnt want to see you get hurt. I dont want to see you afraid of a boogie man in the closet of your own.

Actually, Clara said gently, she stays in the corner over there.

Stephanie followed where her daughter pointed, seeing nothing but empty space. She turned back to Clara. Is she there now?

Clara shook her head. No. I havent seen anyone here all evening. Maybe I left them back at dads. They both chuckled at that.

Well, I hope so. I dont need anything moved around in this house. I have a hard enough time keeping everything straight  including my head  as it is.

Im really glad you told me, Mom. I wish you would have before now, but Im glad you did. I needed to know that. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, unsure whether to continue.

What, honey? Tell me. Stephanie raised their joined hands and kissed her daughters knuckles. I dont want anymore secrets between us. This was bad enough.

Okay. Clara was filled with a mixture of uncertainty and relief. She hoped her mom was telling her the truth, that she was in fact, willing to finally listen. I see stuff a lot, now. When I was younger, it was sporadic, or Id just see vague shadows. Something to catch out of the corner of my eye, that kind of thing. Now, she began to whisper, I see dead people.

Stephanie broke into laughter, Clara grinning at the wonderful sound. It had been awhile since shed heard a full out guffaw from her mother. Well, Id love to hear all about it, but not tonight. She gave Claras hand one final squeeze then let go of it as she stood. Im exhausted. Guess confessing can do that to a person. She stretched and yawned.

Yeah, either that or working fifty hour weeks, one or the other, Clara said dryly.

You can say that again. Okay, Stephanie sighed, dead on her feet. She turned toward the bedroom door. Good night, sweetie. I love you.

I love you, too, Mom. Stephanie was halfway out into the hallway when Clara had the urge to blurt, Your mom misses and loves you.

Stephanie stopped in her tracks, a slight chill running down her spine. She turned back to look at her daughter, who was now sitting up in bed. What?

Clara looked as though she were a deer caught in headlights. She had no idea why shed said that, or where it had come from. Uh, I imagine she would. Dont you think? she said weakly, hoping to cover up for her blunder.

Yeah. I suppose so, Stephanie said softly, a gentle smile curving her lips. I love and miss her, too. And with that, she quietly closed Claras bedroom door, and headed off to bed.

Chapter 10

She hated the stares. Why did people have to stare? It was rude, disconcerting, and it really ticked Clara off. She sat with her back against the wall, as was her lunch habit, watching her fellow high school students. She was baffled as to why shed been going to John Freed for nearly half a semester, and yet she hadnt made one friend. There had to be something terribly wrong with that picture.

She bit into her egg salad sandwich, relishing in the tangy taste of lots of Miracle Whip. That had always been one problem when her mom made it: too much egg, not enough of the good stuff.

Clara had tried to get a table, since it was far too cold to eat outside anymore, and she had learned from that first day not to sit against the lockers anymore. She had found herself a fairly clean spot on the floor, which was cold tile, and was giving her chills through the seat of her jeans. She glanced down at her half-eaten sandwich as she chewed, fingering a large chunk of egg before plucking it out and popping it into her mouth. It was then that she noticed a pair of black combat boots standing not three feet from her.

The Goth girl from the locker incident looked down at her, a smirk on her red-slashed lips. Hey, she said.

Im not in front of your locker, Clara said defensively. The girl had never spoken a word to her, other than to be incredibly rude.

Very observant. The girl squatted down to Claras level and looked into her eyes, leaning in a bit to get a better look. You have got some wicked eyes, she said. Like the color of twilight or something.

Clara felt uncomfortable at the up close and personal scrutiny, and looked away. Thanks.

Youre Clara, the girl pointed out, a self-satisfied smile on her face.

Yes. I know. Clara wasnt sure what to think of this girl. She looked at her face, what she could see beneath the black hair that hid a lot of it.

Im Erica. Without invitation, she sat down where shed been squatting. Youre the one who got lost right?

Clara grimaced. Lost? Was that the rumor? I didnt get lost, she muttered, tossing the rest of her sandwich into the brown paper lunch sack.

A grin split Ericas face wide open. Thats what I thought. She leaned forward, her dark eyes boring into Claras. You saw him, too, didnt you?

Clara could only stare back at the girl. She was trying to read her, get a vibe off her. Was Erica playing a game with her? Trying to make her look stupid? Would she run back to her friends and tell them all about the freak? Saw who? she asked, deciding to play it safe.

The man. He has one of those little paper-boy hats, she said, demonstrating with her hand. My mom used to work here in the lunch room. She used to see him all the time. Said he carried a big hammer, too.

Its a wrench, Clara said automatically.

Erica got excited. I knew it! I knew you saw him, too!

Clara mentally smacked herself upside the head. Yes, I did. I followed him.

My mom would love to hear the story. Shes a witch and gets into all that shit. Erica reached into her backpack and pulled out a notepad. She spoke as she scribbled something on it. She owns this shop now. Its down on Prairie. She tore off the sheet and handed it to Clara. You should go there some time. Shed like to meet you. I told her all about you. Erica grinned wickedly.

Clara felt a flush of heat wash over here, and quickly pushed it aside, unsure of where it stemmed from, and feeling uncomfortable with it. Why?

Erica zipped her backpack up and slung it over a shoulder as she was about to stand. Because shes interested in new talent. Getting to her feet, she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face, only for it to fall back. Im having a party at my place next weekend. You should come.

Clara felt her heart stop, and a cold sweat break out over her body. She swallowed. What kind of party?

The fun kind. I wrote my address n that paper I gave you along with my moms store. If you want to come, its Saturday night, around nine-thirty or ten. With that, she walked away.

Clara watched her go, her stomach in knots at the prospect  part excitement, part dread of having to meet new people in a completely unfamiliar environment. Man, I wish you were here, Jason, she muttered, and got up to throw her lunch away.

If you need anything, you call me. Okay? Max looked at his daughter through the darkness of the cab of the truck. He could tell she was scared, but truly thought it was a good idea for her to go. She hadnt made much of an attempt at making any new friends since Jasons death, and even when hed been alive, hadnt had many. He didnt understand it: Clara was a beautiful young girl with a wonderful intellect and sense of humor. What wasnt to like? Granted, he might be a bit biased.

Clara blew out a long breath, scrubbing her palms on the thighs of her jeans. She nodded, glancing over at the house they were parked in front of. It was a modest home, nothing huge or too small. It looked average, sitting in an average neighborhood. Itll be fine, she blew out, more to convince herself than her father.

Of course it will, sweetpea. He reached over and squeezed her hand. Go have a good time. Just be smart. Ill be back at midnight.

Clara nodded again, then gathering her courage, reached for the door handle and let herself out, stepping into the cold, October air. She knew her dad was watching her as she made her way up the walk. In one way she wished hed just go, as she felt like a dork having her dad drop her off. But, on the other side of that very nervous token, she was glad. What if it was a joke after all, and nobody was even home, and Erica had given her a bogus address?

Stop it, stop it, stop it, she muttered angrily to herself, trying not to let the butterflies in her stomach get the best of her. Before she could take another step, the porch light flicked on, and the front door opened. Erica was standing in the warm entrance dressed in her usual all-black attire, a welcoming smile  as much as she was seen giving, anyway  on her lips.

Hey. Come in.

Clara heard the loud engine of her fathers truck rumble off into the night as the front door closed behind her. The inside of the house was dim as they entered what looked to be a typical family room: TV, sofas, low wooden and glass tables and framed pictures on the walls, though it was entirely too dim to see what they were of.

Can I take your coat? Erica asked, tugging at the lapel of Claras leather jacket. She took it once Clara shrugged out of it. Erica folded it over an arm and headed down a hallway that Clara figured was probably the bedrooms.

She walked further into the house, realizing the single light source was coming from the kitchen, and that was a lamp that had dark red cloth covering its shade. There was a breakfast bar where two teenaged boys were sitting, each sipping from a beer. Clara thought she recognized one of them from the halls at school, but wasnt sure on the other. Like Erica, they were dressed in dark clothing, one wearing dark eyeliner.

Hey, one said, the other raising his beer in salute.

Hi. Clara felt near nude standing there, unsure of why she was even there.

Want a beer? Erica asked, entering the room and heading to the fridge.

Um, sure. Clara had never had a beer before, and didnt really want one, but figured she might as well try and fit in as much as possible. She took the cold bottle that was handed to her, trying to ignore the jolt that passed through her hand and up her arm as Ericas finger grazed hers during the transfer.

Is Richard coming? the boy Clara recognized asked, finishing his beer and setting the empty bottle next to two others. He accepted the fresh drink Erica offered him.

Yep. Hes bringing the twins with him, too.

Clara made her way to the opposite side of the kitchen as the breakfast bar, leaning back against the stove so she could observe. Her gaze scanned the outfits the boys were wearing  black pants with chains hanging off them, the pants so huge she couldnt even tell what kind of shoes they were wearing. One was wearing a black concert tee, the other a black tank top. She glanced over at Erica, who was resting her folded arms on the breakfast bar countertop. Her pants were her usual baggy black ones with the heavy combat boots. Her shirt, however, was a deep purple in the dim light of the lamp. It was tight and very fitted to her breasts and flat stomach.

She tore her eyes away only to find she met the other guys dead on. He smirked at her and took a drink from his beer. It wasnt long before people began to show up  more Goth, Morticia Addams types. Clara felt like she was completely out of her element, and wasnt entirely sure what to do about it. She had finished her first beer, and was starting on her second, which one of the guys had so kindly brought to her, the cap already popped.

The people around her were laughing and talking, enjoying each others company. Clara stood back, watching and listening, amused a few times at some of the snippets of conversation shed been able to take in. Erica zoomed back and forth from the main area of the house where her friends were gathered and the back bedroom, putting away and grabbing coats as people came and went.

As Clara took a long swallow from her second beer, she began to feel a bit dizzy, as though her head were filled with cotton. She set the bottle of beer down, reaching out to grab onto the breakfast bar counter. She blinked several times, finally squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head, trying to shake off the effects of the moderate, inexperienced drinker-buzz she was on.

She turned and looked at the covered lamp in the kitchen, and realized that instead of the muted red light it had once been, it was now a strange gray light, as though the color had been bled from it. She looked around the room, trying to focus. It wasnt exactly black and white, but more like what room would look like if moonlight shining in through a window were the only light during a dark night.

She made her way towards the dining room table, seeing that it was still there, though now it had a strange shape to it, was smaller, and not dark wood. Her footfalls echoed off of wood flooring rather than the carpet which shed been walking all night.

Looking up, Clara gasped, as there was a figure standing not two feet from her. He was a tall man, maybe in his fifties. His face was heavily lined, and the stench of cigarettes clung to him. He said nothing, simply looked at her, his eyes hard and unfeeling. She staggered back away from him, reaching back to catch herself on the breakfast bar counter, only to fall to the ground. She looked up and saw there was no breakfast bar counter. Only open space leading into the kitchen.

Quickly getting to her feet, she made her way towards the living room, bumping into something that she couldnt see. Feeling hands on her, she screamed out, lurching away from those hands, nearly running over a small boy who looked up at her with sad eyes. He wore knickers and leather buckle shoes. He reached for her, but Clara was too terrified to take his hand.

Relax. Its okay. Just relax.

Clara wondered if those were her thoughts, or did she just hear that in her head?

Ericas party guests watched Clara with fear and confusion. She seemed to be on some sort of bad trip, though they knew nothing like that could be happening. She was screaming out at something, lashing out at thin air. She had run into a couple of the gathered group, and when theyd tried to help her, shes only scream and try to get away. The girls eyes were wide and wild, filled with absolute terror.

What the hell did you put in her drink? Jacob Phillips asked his friend, Derrick.

Nothing, I swear. I chickened out. He saw the doubtful look on his friends face. I swear, dude. I didnt.

Clara found herself in an open room, which she knew had been the living room of Ericas house. The furniture was gone, as was the TV. She saw looming shadows groups, and felt her heart begin to race when she saw them move towards her. She felt like she was trapped in a horror movie.

She had to run! She darted down a long, narrow hallway, throwing herself into the first open door she found, slamming the door behind her. She pressed her forehead into the cool wood, crying out when she felt hands on her shoulders.

Erica barely missed being slugged by a terrified Clara. Hey! she said, shaking the girl to try and get her attention. Claras eyes were huge, the pupils dilated. She looked through Erica as though she didnt even realize Erica was there. Hey, hey, hey. Clara. Come back. Its Erica.

Clara heard her name and stopped, listening to the voice. Clara. Erica. I know that name. She blinked, trying to focus, seeing her new friend when she did.

Hey, Erica cupped Claras face in her hands, holding the trembling girls face still. Its okay. Whats wrong? What happened? Ericas own heart was pounding in her chest.

I wasnt here, Clara cried, her voice a high-pitched rush. There was a man. And a boy. It wasnt here. It was so scary. Dark.

Erica listened, remembering her own mother talking about that very place. She grinned, taking a half step away from Clara. Sounds like you ended up in the after shadow.

Clara took several cleansing breaths, then looked at Erica for the first time since shed crashed into the room. What?

Come on. Sit.

Clara looked around for the first time and figured shed stumbled into Ericas bedroom. The overhead light was on, but the walls were draped in black fabric, and the window had a heavy, black drape over it. Candles were placed on just about anything that would sit still, though none were lit.

She was led to a double bed, and with gentle pressure put on her shoulder, sat down.

Ill be right back. Stay here, okay? At Claras nod, Erica left the room, closing the door securely behind her.

Erica marched up the hall, turning on every light she passed until the entire house was lit up like a Christmas tree. Noticing the new atmosphere, the party guests stopped talking, turning to see a seething Erica standing in their midst.

Alright, which of you fuckers did it? she asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Everyone looked at her, then at each other, confused. What are you talking about? a girl named Lacey asked.

Which one of you put something in Claras drink?

Jacob looked at Derrick. He smacked him with his shoulder. Derrick did.

What? Derrick sputtered, his face turning crimson. I didnt! I swear it, Erica. I was going to, but I totally chickened out. I swear! He reached into his pocket, pulling out the tiny plastic bag with the white powder in it. The bag was still obviously full.

I think this was her drink, and it smells fine, someone else said, holding up the mostly-full beer Clara had left on the breakfast bar.

Still doubtful, and a little worried, Erica decided to call it a night. Everyone out.

Groaning and muttering their disapproval, the crowd filtered out, plans to continue the party at someone elses house called out to a rush of cheers of agreement. Once the place was empty, Erica went back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Clara was exactly where shed left her, though shed fallen back on the bed, her feet still on the floor, one forearm resting over her eyes.

You okay? She sat down next to her, putting a hand on Claras leg.

Fine, other than feeling like I was stepped on by a moose. On my head.

Erica smiled at that. Listen, I need to ask you something, and need you to answer honestly, okay?

Clara blew out a breath and nodded, pulling herself to sit up. Okay.

Did you take anything, or do you remember anyone offering you anything, or giving you anything?

Clara shook her head immediately. No. Nothing like that.

Youre sure? Did you drink taste funny? Like, kind of bitter, maybe?

Clara thought about it for a moment, then shook her head again. No.

You dont do drugs on your own, do you? Erica was baffled. She kicked off her combat boots, curling her legs up as she turned to face Clara on her bed.

God, no. I never have. I dont believe in them. Clara looked at her with innocent eyes, not sure why Erica looked so confused. What?

So, youre telling me that you got to the after shadow without the help of drugs of any kind? The doubt in her voice was obvious.

Well, I dont know. I think you should tell me what the after shadow is before I can answer that question.

You dont know what that is? Erica was stunned when Clara shook her head. She could tell the girl was telling the truth. Its the spirit realm. Well, actually, they say we all live in the after shadow all the time, and thats how people see ghosts, and that kind of stuff. But, where you went was the dark side of the after shadow. Its the place where spirits get stuck. My mom says its creepy as shit. Was it?

Clara nodded, a shiver passing through her. Yes. She hugged herself.

Man, thats cool. My mom always takes some sort of herb to get there. I cant believe you went on your own! What was it like?

Clara closed her eyes, trying to bring back the moment and remember how it started. Her head felt fuzzy, her memory seemingly affected by what had happened to her moments before. I dont know, she murmured, staring up at the darkened ceiling, trying to bring back the moments. I guess it felt like being a stranger in a very strange land, and I didnt belong there. It was almost like being awake and trapped in a nightmare. Very strange, she whispered, her thoughts drifting off, back to what Erica called the after shadow.

Youve got to meet my mom. She will absolutely love you!

I dont know, Clara sighed, sitting up. She ran her hands through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. A glance at Ericas bedside alarm clock told her it was nearly midnight. Her father would be there any moment. I need to go. My dad will be here in three minutes.

Erica glanced at the clock then back to the girl sitting on her bed. Will you hang out with me tomorrow? she asked, trying to mask the hope in her voice, but not doing a stellar job of it.

Clara was surprised by the invitation. She got to her feet and stretched. Um, sure. What do you want to do?

Erica shrugged, also standing. I dont know. A wicked grin spread across her face. Im sure well think of something.

Clara finished picking her clothes up off the floor of her bedroom  something which she had promised her father she would do before bed  and then stripped out of her clothing from that day, leaving it trailed on the floorboards leading to her bed. The night was cold, so she decided to forgo her usual tank top and panties, and put on her flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. The bed was beginning to warm up, as she turned on her electric blanket before she began to clean up her bedroom.

As she lay in the dark, she thought back over the night at Ericas. She didnt want to think about the beer, or the friends, and certainly not the after shadow. Instead her thoughts drifted to more pleasurable thoughts. Erica. A small smile spread across her face as she pictured the pretty girl. Erica was a Junior. As Clara thought about her and pictured her, she felt a flush wash through her, as she suddenly knew that Erica liked her. But, what was she supposed to do with that? The topic of Claras sexuality had never come up with her parents.

Oh boy, she murmured, then with a sigh, rolled over to her side and closed her eyes.

Sleep was somewhat restless, and Clara couldnt stop fidgeting. She was in a strange place between sleep and awake, where strange dreams and visions came at her, yet she was not fully resting, and somewhere inside she was very aware of the surroundings in her bedroom.

Clara.

Clara wrestled with the sheets, her body reacting to hearing her name.

Clara. Open your eyes.

Fear swept through her. She knew she was not alone in the room, yet didnt feel that she was in any danger, per se. She just knew that something was very off.

Clara. Open your eyes for me.

Outside the window a car backfired as it drove down the street. Clara was ripped out of her state of delirium. She sat up, chest heaving. Looking around the dark bedroom, she saw nothing, not even in the corner. She ran a hand through her hair, leaving it to stand on end.

God, what was that about? She glanced at her alarm clock and groaned when she saw it was only just after four in the morning. She felt exhausted, her eyes like sandpaper had been rubbed into them. She flopped back into the pillow and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she decided to give it another try, this time pushing the blankets off her. She always slept better cold, so maybe that would help.

Within minutes, Clara grabbed her covers, bringing them up to her chin. She felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable, and had no idea why. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax herself enough to fall back to sleep. She felt her body began to calm, her chest rising and falling under soft, even breaths. She could feel her body beginning to float off into relaxation and down into sleep.

Clara. Open your eyes for me. Open your eyes.

Clara wasnt sure if she was dreaming or not. She felt her body react, a thrill of fear and uncertainty reaching into the very depths of her soul.

Dont be afraid, Clara. Open your eyes

.

Clara wasnt entirely sure what state exactly she was in. Was she awake? Was she asleep? Wherever she was, she opened her eyes, and standing beside her bed was the beautiful woman with the dark hair that shed now seen twice.

Who are you? she asked, looking into dark, twinkling eyes.

Its time for us to begin, Clara.

Begin what? Clara sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs.

Your destiny.

The womans voice was soft, filled with kindness. Ive seen you before.

The woman smiled, nodding.

Many times. More than you realize. I need you to have faith.

Clara felt fuzzy and confused. She was so tired. Faith? In what?

The woman smiled again, then began to back away from the bed.

Have faith, Clara. Ill be back soon.

Clara found herself staring into a dark bedroom, completely alone. She blinked several times in utter confusion. Had she just seen a woman standing next to her bed? A woman dressed in a simply black dress, her hair pinned back away from her face. Or was she just simply crazy? She buried her face in her hands.

Im so confused.

Chapter 11

I have to say, Max said, amusement in his voice. You look like shit.

Clara glared at him, then turned back to her cereal, head resting against the palm of her hand. Thanks.

Look, Im not going to yell at you for drinking, because I know youll do it anyway. But, he said, pointing his spoon at her, a small chunk of Chex sticking to the rounded back. dont you ever come to my breakfast table hung over again. Feeling his fatherly duty was done, he tucked back into her cereal.

Im not hung over, Dad.

Max looked at her, surprised at Claras denial. He thought hed been pretty easy on her. Thats a load of crap.

I had two beers, yes. Well, one and part of another one, but thats it.

Then why do you look like hammered shit?

Sorry. I was born with this face.

Max threw his head back and laughed, loud and deep. Oh, youre priceless, Kid. He got up, taking his empty coffee cup with him, refilling it and returning to the table. If youre not hung over, whats wrong with you?

I didnt sleep very well. Clara dug through her bowl of Lucky Charms until she had plucked out all of the rainbow marshmallow pieces.

That mattress again, huh? We can get you another one-

Try some lady was bugging me all night. Clara, open your eyes. Open your eyes, she whispered, wiggling her fingers in a show of monstrous creepiness.

Max looked at her, a brow raised. What?

The girl nodded. Yep. Some woman  a spirit  was in my room most the night. She took a bite of her cereal and chewed, her brow creased in thought. You know, I think shes been haunting me my whole life.

Max stared at his daughter, coffee cup halfway to his mouth. There she sat, talking about some ghost woman that stays in her room at night like she was talking about what she should do with her Saturday afternoon. Thats creepy, Clara.

Clara shrugged, taking a drink of her orange juice. Not really. I think shes fairly harmless.

Did she tell you who she is?

Clara shook her head. Nope. We didnt get to formal introductions.

Max smirked and turned back to his breakfast.

Dad?

Yeah, sweetpea?

Does it bother you? This stuff that I do? Clara indicated the space around her with her spoon. Her father looked up, meeting her gaze. You know, the spirits and stuff.

No. Should it?

Well, no. But, does it creep you out at all? Make you uncomfortable? Clara nearly held her breath. She wasnt sure why she was asking, because shed never gotten that feeling from him before. In fact, hed always seemed interested in what she did and saw. But, somehow she had the feeling that her abilities, or gifts as shed heard them referred to, would become even more a part of her life soon. Very soon.

Not at all. In fact, I think its great. I admire you for what you can do.

Clara looked away, feeling suddenly shy by the compliment. I dont do anything, she muttered. It just happens.

That may be, but youve got the guts to go for it. You dont block it out like your mom did. Maxs eyes grew big and he tucked his lower lip into his mouth.

Clara grinned. Its okay. We had a talk. She told me about everything.

Oh. Okay. Good. I never knew why she didnt want me to say anything. Max sipped his coffee.

Because she was ashamed. Her aunt and uncle made her feel like she was doing something wrong. She was weird, or a freak, as Kerri is so fond of saying.

Eh, Kerris the freak, Max said, winking with a devilish grin.

I agree. Ive been saying that for years, but no one would listen.

Max got quiet for a moment, deep in thought. There had been something hed been wanting to ask Clara for a week, but had chickened out every time. He glanced at her, saw that she was thoroughly engaged in her own thoughts and her Lucky Charms, so turned back to his own breakfast. Finally he sighed, putting his spoon down. Clara, I need to ask you something.

Shoot, she said, shoving a large spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

How would you feel if I started dating?

Clara stopped chewing and looked up at him. You mean that woman you were fucking before?

Max sighed, holding his temper down. Im going to give you one free pass with a comment like that because I know what I did was crappy. But only one, he held up a finger to emphasize his point. And you just used it up, kiddo. Got it?

Clara nodded, trying to stamp her own anger down. She swallowed the rest of the food that was in her mouth and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice. She was trying to stall for time before she had to answer. She could feel his eyes on her, though. Finally she sighed, running a hand through her already morning-mussed hair.

Why are you asking me? she asked at length.

Because I respect you, and your opinion. I dont want to hurt you anymore than I already have. Or Kerri. But, whats done is done, and Ive made my decisions in life, and I want to move on.

So, theres no chance that you and mom will ever get back together, is there? Clara tried to be brave, tried to be the little adult she knew her father needed her to be.

Clara, there were a lot of problems between your mom and me. We didnt share them with you girls because we wanted to protect you. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Maybe that was a mistake. But, we did what we thought was right at the time. The problems had been there for years. It wasnt just something that popped up over night.

A guy said that when someone cheats its because theres something at home theyre not getting. Is that true?

Max smiled. Who said that? You been watching Oprah again?

Montel Williams, actually.

Max chuckled. Yeah, Id say thats about right. There was something missing in your moms and my relationship.

Was she a bad wife? Clara asked, pushing her nearly-finished cereal away.

Max shook his head. No. And its not that simple. Youll understand more once you get into a relationship of your own. Sometimes, he sighed and shrugged. Sometimes it just doesnt work. People grow apart.

Clara knew he was right, there was no way she could fully understand without experiencing it herself. It still made her sad, though. Well, I guess then you have to do what you have to do. She pushed back from the table and stood up. I need to get in the shower. She cleaned her dishes and stowed them in the dishwasher, then turned to her father. If you want to date, Dad, Im not going to stand in your way.

Max watched his daughter leave the room, feeling the resigned sadness radiate off her. It made him feel sad, too. Sad for her and Kerri, sad for Stephanie, and sad for himself. He so often wondered what went so wrong? Where had his life slid off course from he saw from himself over twenty years ago, when hed proposed to Stephanie Holdridge. Back then she had been a young, beautiful, vibrant girl of seventeen, just about to graduate from high school. Hed fallen in love with her spirit from the first time hed seen her. Despite the harsh hand life had dealt her already by that time, she hadnt lost her spunk for life, nor her hope for the future.

What happened, Steph? he muttered to the empty kitchen.

Are you sure you dont mind? I dont want to push you, or anything, Erica said, her eyes never leaving the road.

No, thats fine. Im cool with it. Clara held her hands in her lap, looking every bit the polite little girl as she sat in the passenger seat of Ericas 4Runner. Her emotions were tied up in a mixture of nerves and excitement. She was nervous as hell because Erica made her nervous, for some reason, and she was excited, because it felt good to be out with a friend again. It had been a very long time. Since Jasons death that summer.

I figure, we can kill two birds with one stone. Erica stopped for a red traffic light, only then glancing over at her passenger. She grinned. Lighten up, Clara. You look scared to death over there, huddled next to the door. She pushed playfully at Claras shoulder. I wont hurt you, I promise.

Clara took a deep breath, nodding as she slowly let it out. Sorry. Guess Im just a little keyed up.

Its okay. I just dont want you to be afraid. No reason. Im perfectly harmless. She grinned and laughed. For the most part. Anyway, I figured wed kill two birds with one stone by dropping by my moms shop so I can deliver that package I told you about, and introduce you to her. Shes dying to meet you.

Okay. Im fine with that, really.

Cool. They drove on in silence for several blocks before Erica spoke again. Listen, about last night. I was thinking a lot about it today before I picked you up. I think its pretty amazing what you did. Have you ever done that before?

Clara shook her head. No. Never. And Ive never heard of the after shadow before, either.

Well, if youre interested my mom can fill you in a lot more than I can. Did I tell you shes a witch? At Claras nod, she continued. I dont fully understand all that stuff, Erica said, waving off the idea. I think its cool and stuff, but I dont really like the spells and all that. Just creeps me out. But you

 She glanced at her passenger. Youre the real deal I think. Like, the real deal.

Clara felt slightly uncomfortable at Ericas enthusiasm. She really didnt want to be the focus of the discussion anymore, and she certainly didnt want their entire day to revolve around what she could or couldnt do. Erica, would you think I was a total bitch if I asked that we dont talk about my abilities? She saw the confusion on Ericas face.

Why? I dont think youre a bitch, but why? Its so cool! Youre very special, Clara.

Clara shrugged. Maybe today I just dont want to be special.

Erica studied her for a long moment, then smiled with a nod. Okay. Im sorry. Im just excited.

Its okay. Im excited about myself just about every other day, too.

Erica burst into laughter, turning on Prairie that would lead to her mothers store.

The Pagan was located off the busy intersection of Prairie and Thorp Streets. The squat, brick building was nestled between two taller ones. The store front was made up of two huge window, posters and coverings blocking view of the inside. A bell jangled softly as Erica pushed the glass door open. As they walked in, Claras senses were immediately assaulted by strong incense and soft Indian music.

The walls of the shop were painting a deep purple, much of the wall space covered by hangings of deep red sheer material, much like the walls of Ericas bedroom. Shelves displayed various candles, books and canisters of incense. Pagan jewelry and symbolism were also offered under the glass of a locked case.

A tall, rail-thin woman was draped in material, that Clara supposed would be called a dress. The free-flowing material billowed around her every time she moved. Her deep red hair was piled on top of her head, large earrings batting against her long neck with every movement of her head.

Hey, Cassandra, Erica said, walking over to the woman, who stood behind the counter. Heres your package.

Clara followed Erica, but continued to look around. She could immediately feel eagle-like eyes on her. She turned to find the woman Erica called Cassandra eyeing her. Her eyes were dark and sharp, much like Ericas.

Cassandra, this is Clara. Clara, this is my mom. Erica made the introductions casually. Clara was surprised, wondering why Erica called her mother by her first name.

Nice to meet you, my dear. Cassandra breezed out from behind the counter, never taking her eyes off Clara. Ive heard so much about you. Clara could hear a slight accenting lilt to the womans voice. Romanian, perhaps? Cassandra placed heavily ringed hands on either side of Claras face, her touch gentle. She looked deeply into the girls eyes, causing Clara to want badly to squirm. You have the gift, that is for sure, she said at last.

How do you know? Clara asked, taking an unconscious step back from the woman once she was released.

Cassandra went back behind the counter, taking a very sharp dagger and slicing into the tape on the box Erica had brought her. I see it in your eyes, child. Such beautiful eyes. The soul of one whos subconscious mind has been unlocked. Thats what I see. She gave an approving sigh as she unpacked several silver candle holders shaped in the form of a praying goddess.

Clara also looked at the candle holders, thinking them beautiful, if a bit gaudy.

Well, Cassandra, were going to head out, Erica announced, grabbing Claras hand and tugging her towards the door.

You girls have fun, the older woman said, eyeing the two for a moment before her gaze locked on Clara. You come back, Clara. Id love to speak with you.

Okay. Um, it was nice to meet you, Clara said before she was yanked out into the cold day. Erica let go of her hand as they headed towards her car. Your mom seems nice. She buckled herself in. Why do you call her Cassandra, though?

Because thats her name, Erica said simply, as though that answered everything.

Oh. Clara was quiet for a moment, chewing on her lower lip as they merged into traffic. But, why dont you call her mom?

Because shes not.

What? Wait. Now Im really confused.

Erica grinned, never taking her eyes off the road. You hungry? Want some lunch?

Yeah. My Lucky Charms didnt last long, Im afraid, Clara said, placing a hand on her stomach.

For anyone who was lucky enough to watch Clara eat a sandwich, it was a real interesting experience. Erica sat across from her at a sub shop, one dark brow raised in question. Clara had picked her turkey and American cheese sandwich apart, smearing onto the bread mayo, ketchup and a dab of honey. The stems of the three jalapeńos shed added could be seen sticking out the sides. She put the whole concoction back together, and happily took a bite.

What? she managed around the food in her mouth.

That was disgusting, Erica said, her own sandwich still in its wax paper wrapper. Do you actually kiss someone after youve eaten something so gross?

Clara grinned, shaking her head. Cant say as Ive had to worry about that, no.

Well, Erica said, sipping from her Coke. You sure as hell wouldnt be kissing me after that.

Clara looked down at the table, her face flushed with excited embarrassment. She finally managed to mutter, Ill remember that.

Good. You do that. Erica was amused as she watched Claras flush deepen. Bingo. Does it bother you? she asked, intentionally being vague. She ripped a bite from her meatball sandwich.

Does what bother me? Clara finally was able to make eye contact with the Goth girl.

When I flirt with you? Erica popped a Lays potato chip into her mouth, never taking her eyes off Clara.

Clara swallowed, butterflies doing battle dome in her stomach. She shook her head. No.

Good. Erica turned her attention fully on her lunch, intentionally leaving Clara to ponder over that little bit of conversation. She had liked Clara since the first time shed seen her, wondering around the mall the summer before. Erica had been working, so hadnt been able to talk to the beautiful girl, but had gotten  and blown  her chance in the restroom later that same day.

Erica had thought that was pretty much it, and Clara was one that got away until she saw her sitting against her locker during lunch on the first day of school. Almost like a gift, all wrapped up and delivered. Then shed blown it again, by being aggressive. Now was, hopefully, another shot. She didnt want to blow this, especially since shed could sense that Clara was if not interested, could definitely be persuaded to be. After the boiler room incident at the school  which everyone knew about  Erica knew her best chance to get in might be Cassandra, and Claras own abilities. It had worked, and here they were, eating lunch together and whiling away a Saturday.

Clara was caught up in her own thoughts as she forced the rest of her sandwich down. She felt nervous, her stomach tied up in knots. Though Erica was fully engaged in eating her lunch, Clara could still feel a strong energy coming from her. It was like a heat wave washing over her.

While Erica was busy eating, Clara took the chance to really study her new friend. She wondered what color Ericas hair actually was. She tried to tell by the roots, but wasnt able. Maybe her hair was naturally dark? Clara didnt think so. Her gaze traveled to what she could see of Ericas face, made more possible as Erica tucked one side behind her ear so it wouldnt get into her food. She was able to study her face. Dark eyes were topped by delicate arched brows, which if used correctly, could seem quite sexy, or quite bitchy. Ericas features were small and petit, much like her body structure.

Claras inspection was cut short when her gaze was met by twinkling dark eyes.

Tell me about you. Are you new to the area? Erica sat back in her chair, her appetite sated. I dont remember you from any of the schools around here.

I was born and raised here, but I used to live on the south side. My parents split over the summer, and I live with my dad now. Thats why I go here. My sister is a senior at South.

Oh wow. That sucks. Im sorry to hear that. You and your dad close?

Yeah. Very. Clara picked at her Lays chips, deciding she didnt want them. We were close before, but something happened over the summer that made me go live with him.

Erica could tell by Claras expression that it was painful for her. Hey, she said, reaching across the table and lightly touching Claras arm. You dont have to tell me if you dont want to.

No. Its okay. Clara took a deep breath and let it out before taking a quick sip of her drink. My best friend Jason was killed this past summer, and I saw it all happen in a dream. I was warned, and my mom wouldnt let me call him or his dad to tell them.

Jeez! What a bitch! Erica exclaimed, disgust on her face.

Well, hold on a sec. Clara explained the talk shed had with her mother, and though it didnt fix what had happened with Jason and the dream shed had, it helped Clara to understand.

Wow. You must have gotten your abilities from your mom, then. Its usually hereditary, and through the mom. So I hear, anyway, Erica amended. Its still not right, though. Your mom not letting you call, knowing how gifted you are.

Clara shrugged. Nothing I can do about it, you know? I have to think that maybe Jason was supposed to die. I wasnt supposed to be able to help him. She sighed, playing with her straw. Thats how I sleep at night, anyway.

Chapter 12

Clara leaned against the post that held the No Parking sign, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She stared at the store front, the CLOSED sign staring back at her. According to the posted store hours, Cassandra would be opening the shop any minute.

She put her hands in her coat pockets, her fingers wrapping around the bus ticket shed bought. She couldnt wait until she turned sixteen over the summer. Her father kept telling her there was no car in her near-future, but she somehow doubted that. Maybe she could get a job and help pay for it.

Good morning, Clara.

Clara mumped in surprise at the voice that suddenly appeared to her right. She looked to see Cassandra smiling in greeting. Good morning.

Early bird shopper? the older woman asked, teasing in her voice. She dug out a heavy key ring and slid a silver key into the lock of the store. She held the door open for Clara to follow her inside.

Yeah. Guess so, Clara said, closing the door behind her, and turning the lock as instructed. She was grateful to get out of the bitter cold of the October day, her cheeks red and nose running. Unsure of what to do or where to do, she stood in the center of the store, hands still in her pockets. Cassandra unwrapped her scarf and unbuttoned her coat as she made her way around the counter and through a darkened doorway that led to an unseen room.

Come back here, Clara, she called.

Clara did as she was asked, and found herself in a small room with a desk and computer, tall filing cabinets, and a coffee maker. She watched as Cassandra booted up the computer and checked the calendar hung on the wall.

I wasnt sure if youd come back or not, she said, never taking her attention from her opening duties.

Why? Clara leaned back against the open doorway to the small room, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in such a small space with a total stranger.

Well, Cassandra said, gracefully lowering herself into the desk chair. Because you looked frightened last time you were here. She spared a glance and a smile. I thought you would run fast and far. Either that or Erica would have scared you away. She smiled. She can be a scary girl.

Clara smiled and looked away, her cheeks flushing slightly. No. Not yet.

Cassandra studied the slightly flustered girl. Hmm. Perhaps not. She slapped her palms on her skirted thighs. So, dear Clara. What can I do for you that got you out of bed so early? I know how you young girls work. You all love your sleep.

Clara chuckled. Yes we do. She felt slight panic for a moment. Why am I here? I was wondering if maybe you could give me some advice. Maybe tarot cards

Im not really sure.

Cassandra turned the desk chair away from the desk and her opened email and fully faced Clara, giving the girl her full attention. You wish to learn, she said simply. At Claras nod, Cassandra smiled. Then I will teach you. I will learn much from you in return, I suspect.

Oh, I dont know about that, Clara hedged, shifting nervously where she stood. I dont know anything, Cassandra. Thats part of the problem.

No, the problem is you do not understand that a natural gift is just that  natural. A musician, for instance. If he is a natural talent with a guitar, he will pick up the instrument and begin to play. It may take time, and certainly practice, but he will master it soon, yes? she asked, her accent giving a pleasing spin to her words.

True.

Same with a cook. Or an actor. The same is true with you, young Clara. You have a natural gift, and one that should not be taken lightly. Or wasted. She stood, breezing past Clara to the main room of the store, Clara at her heels. I have many questions for you.

Like what? Clara asked, moving to the customer side of the counter as Cassandra began to prepare to open. She headed back into the office for a moment, returning with a money tray, which she began to count.

Well, for instance, Erica told me what happened at her party the other night. Unfortunate in front of a group of teenagers, no doubt, but a wonder all the same. She glanced up at Clara, her hand filled with the stack of one dollar bills she was counting. She told you about the after shadow, yes?

Yes, she did. Before that, Id never even heard of it. Clara leaned on the counter, her chin resting in her palm.

No? Have you gone back since?

God, no! It scared the hell out of me!

Cassandra laughed, a soft musical sound. It is nothing to fear. The after shadow is a part of life. It can be a dark side of life, but it is part of life, all the same. She inserted the money drawer into the cash register, slamming the cash drawer closed. Get the sign, will you? she asked, indicating the CLOSED sign on the door. Turn the lock, too.

Clara did as she was told, the store officially open for business. She made her way back to Cassandra. Why is it scary? And, Erica mentioned something about we live in the after shadow now, but theres a dark side to it.

And she is right. So she does listen, eh? Cassandra smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. We do live in the after shadow. The dark side is for those who are lost. As well, it serves as a sort of bridge to the other side. You see, young Clara, the other side  where we go when we die  is actually where life is. This world, she indicated the store around them, is simply a place to learn. School, if you will. Our souls are learning through life, through adversity, and through pain. Negativity is the greatest of all teachers, and there is no negativity on the other side. Only love.

Clara tried to absorb all that she had just been told. Her mind somersaulted over the information, her brain trying to fit it into the world of understanding shed been given: Christian beliefs, Heaven, Hell, God. What about God?

He exists, but not in the traditional teachings. He is all-knowing, all-powerful, but very different from what the Christians would like to claim. He does not punish. He does not put demands on us.

Then who does? Theres got to be a price for everything, right?

Of course. We put the demands on ourselves, Clara. Our souls. We determine what our lives will be, who well be, and what well learn before we ever make the journey back to this realm.

Back? As in reincarnation?

Exactly. But, Cassandra said, placing heavily ringed fingers on Claras arm. these are only my beliefs, Clara. I do not expect you to follow them. You must follow your own heart, and your own gift. Alright?

Clara nodded, not entirely sure what to think. Okay. I do want to learn. They were interrupted when the bells above the door announced the entrance of a small group of older women.

Do me a favor, Clara, and go light the incense. Cassandra handed the girl a box of matches.

Clara had found herself an interesting book, which she read while tucked away in an out-of-the-way corner of the store. The three ladies that had come in were still with Cassandra, the four chatting away about candles and the importance of colors and duration of burn. Clara had long ago stopped listening, instead reading about tarot cards, and their many uses. She had always found tarot cards interesting, but had never owned a deck, and wasnt entirely sure she wanted one. The cards and their uses just didnt call to her. All the same, it was an interesting intermission while Cassandra was busy.

Psst



Clara jumped, startled. She saw a grinning Erica squatting beside her. That wasnt very nice. You scared me.

That was the point. Erica got herself settled on the floor beside her. What are you reading? she asked, lifting the book so she could see the cover. Tarot and You. Gonna get a deck?

Clara shrugged. I dont know. Just passing time while Cassandra deals with those women.

Erica followed Claras gaze to see the three sisters speaking with the shop owner. Ah. Youll be waiting awhile. Those are the Frank sisters. Theyll keep Cassandra busy for hours. She checked her watch. And Id guess they already have. When did you get here?

Awhile ago, Clara hedged, slightly embarrassed to admit shed been waiting for Cassandra before the shop even opened. Well, I just got off work, thus the smell of greasy fries. Want to go grab something to eat?

Clara was amused by the hope she saw in Ericas dark eyes, and utterly charmed by it. She nodded. Okay.

Even with the light of day shining in through the windows in the rest of the house, Ericas room didnt look much different. Clara wandered around the small room, the sound of Ericas shower running in the distance. She reached out, touching the material that was draped on the walls, its softness gliding against her fingertips. She wondered why Erica had created a virtual tomb for herself as a sanctuary. The material covering the window above the bed had been so completely covered that not even one tiny lick of sunlight managed to sneak in.

She noticed the candles that were placed all over, most well used with frozen droplets of melted wax running down the sides. Most of the candles were black, though some were red, and a few were white. Her gaze wandered to Ericas bed, bringing back memories of the party the previous Friday night. She remembered lying on that bed, trying to get her bearings back after her strange trip into the after shadow.

The bedding was a dark purple, the bed not made, so the grape-colored sheets were visible. The two pillows were askew, as though Erica had been lying on one while hugging the other in her sleep. She could almost see Erica lying there in her minds eye. She wondered if she even slept in black pajamas. This thought was interrupted by the sound of someone entering the room.

Thanks for waiting. I really appreciate it.

Clara turned to see Erica standing just inside her bedroom doorway, her hair still wet, a towel vigorously rubbing through it to dry the dark strands. Erica didnt have a bit of makeup on, and Clara was amazed at just how beautiful the girl really was. Without all the heavy darkness around her eyes, and the slash of red across her lips, she had a youthful, innocent look to her. The black hair looked horribly out of place with that face, convincing Clara that Ericas natural hair color must be a lighter shade of brown, or perhaps even blonde.

Her gaze fell from Ericas face and hair to the white tank top she wore, a bit short and showing creamy white stomach with the movement of Ericas hair-drying. Erica didnt wear a bra, and her nipples stood erect under the thin white cotton of her tank. She swallowed. Hard.

Erica stopped her drying, her gaze finding Claras eyes, and realizing where those twilight eyes were latched onto. She looked down at herself, then back at Clara, a smirk firmly planted on her lips. Like what you see? she asked, tossing the wet towel to her laundry pile in the corner.

Clara nearly choked over her tongue at being caught. She looked into Ericas eyes, expecting to see her angry or offended at such crass behavior, but what she saw couldnt be further from offended. She swallowed again, her hands finding their way into the back pockets of her jeans as she began to shift nervously.

Its okay, Clara, Erica said, slowly making her way to her fidgety friend. You can look all you want.

Clara couldnt look at Erica as she advanced, instead her eyes finding perch anywhere else they could. She could feel the girls body heat getting closer, could smell her freshly-washed skin and hair. It was all intoxicating. Claras heart began to pound in her chest, nearly painful in its excited cadence.

I really like you, Clara, Erica said softly, brushing Claras forearm with her fingertips, marveling at the soft skin she found there. A lot.

Clara took several deep breaths, wanting to speak, but unable to say a word. Nothing could get past her frantic heart, or her dry throat. Instead, she found the courage to look into Ericas eyes.

I think you like me, too. Am I right? If Im wrong, its okay, Erica said, for just a moment her slight insecurity showing through, which, though she didnt realize, made Clara feel better.

Clara still couldnt speak, so she simply nodded her head.

Erica stopped her advance, their breasts nearly touching. Id really like to kiss you. Can I?

Clara felt a wave of heat wash through her, her stomach dropping south. She nodded again, her body trembling a bit.

Why are you shaking? Erica asked, bringing up a hand and cupping Claras chin. Are you afraid? At Claras nod, she smiled. You dont have to be. Im not going to hurt you. She ran her fingers through soft, brown hair, brushing long bangs out of beautiful twilight eyes. Youve never kissed anyone, have you?

No, Clara whispered, her gaze falling from Ericas eyes to her lips, then back to dark eyes. Never.

Thats okay. Erica smiled with understanding. We all have our first.

Have you? Kissed someone before?

Erica nodded. Her hand left Claras hair and slid to cup her jaw. Ill go easy, she promised.

Clara thought her heart was going to pound right out of her chest as Erica got closer. Shed seen enough in movies and TV to know to close her eyes. As darkness filled her visual world, her sensory one exploded with color and sensation. Erica brushed her lips against Claras, the other girl so soft and gentle. Clara immediately wanted her to return, which she did. The second pass was with a bit more pressure, but still infinitely soft.

You okay? Erica whispered against Claras mouth. At the younger girls nod, she moved in a bit closer, pulling Clara to her with an arm around her back. Their bodies made full contact with a gasp from Clara. Erica smiled, then deepened the kiss. She knew shed have to take it slow, as she didnt want to scare her before theyd even started.

Clara tried to follow Ericas lead, afraid shed screw it up and the older, experienced girl wouldnt like her anymore. She tentatively reached out a hand, resting her palm against Ericas waist. The warm skin beneath the thin cotton nearly burned her at the touch. A small sigh escaped her as yet another wave of warmth flowed through her, landing squarely between her legs.

Erica gently stroked the side of Claras face and neck, tilting her head so their lips would fit better. Within moments shed coaxed Claras lips open, and she gently stroked the inside of the other girls mouth. She deepened the kiss as she pressed their bodies even closer, her hand sliding down Claras back until finally it rested just above her ass, unsure how far shed be allowed to go.

Clara started, realization dawning on her: she was kissing a girl, and that girls hand was nearly on her butt. It wasnt that she wasnt enjoying it, because she was. Thoroughly. But, a trip of fear and uncertainty made her push lightly against Ericas shoulder.

Wait, she said, her voice breathy from her excitement.

Are you okay? Erica dropped her hands from Claras body, taking a half step back. Did I do something wrong?

No! No. Not at all. I just

 Clara blew out a breath, running a trembling hand through her hair. I just need a minute.

Okay. Ericas insides were flying, her heart pounding, her inner thighs slick. She could tell by the flushed cheeks of Clara that she had enjoyed it just as much. Are you okay? she asked again.

Clara nodded. Yes. Im fine. Clara took a deep breath, then grinned at Erica. That was nice. Can we do it again, sometime?

Chapter 13

Max rubbed the back of his neck as he paced once more across the living room of his estranged wife. Stephanie sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee. Max has been there for less than twenty minutes, just long enough to get out the reason for his visit.

So? he asked, stopping his pacing just long enough to spare her a glance. what do you think?

Well, do you think shell be able to handle it and her school work? Stephanie asked, pushing to her feet to head to the kitchen. She could hear Max following her.

Im not sure. Shes doing well. Shes gotten As and Bs on her reports and school work so far this semester.

Stephanie refilled her mug. Are you sure you dont want some? she asked, raising the half-filled pot. When Max shook his head, she refilled her own, adding cream and sugar. What about waiting until the semester ends? Thats only in what, just over two months?

Shes not going to like that, Max warned, leaning his backside against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Well, then Id say its a good thing youre the parent then, wouldnt you? Stephanie drawled, blowing on her coffee to cool it down.

Im very aware of my role, Stephanie, Max bit back. You dont have to live with her. She chose to stay with me, remember? Max regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth, and felt even worse when he saw the tears that immediately welled up in his wifes eyes. For some reason he hadnt been able to get himself to go down to the courts and draw divorce papers yet. Aw jeez, Steph, Im sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say.

Yeah Max, it was. She angrily wiped at her tears before they could fall. She didnt want to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore. Well, if shes your daughter, staying at your place, then why the hell are you here? I couldnt possibly be any help to you.

Stop it. Just stop the damn theatrics right now! Max could feel his anger rising. He hated the passive/aggressive stuff, and it was a big reason for his leaving in the first place. I said I was sorry and thats the end of that. It was shitty, and I admit it. I came here to talk to you about our daughter. Now, can we please continue like adults?

Stephanie took a moment to gather herself then nodded, knowing full well he was right. She was angry at herself for falling back into her old patterns. Her counselor, Brittany St. James, had been talking a lot about that with her. Im sorry, too. Im trying to break myself of that, she said softly, staring into her coffee. Brittany has been working with me on it.

Brittany? Is that the lady youve been seeing?

Stephanie nodded, blowing out a long breath. Okay, so where were we?

I was about to tell Clara that she has to wait until winter break before she can begin working at that metaphysical store, and I was about to have to hear an earful of whining protest.

Stephanie grinned. Better you than me, bucko. Guess thats what you get for charming our daughter away from me.

Max was about to let loose when he saw the twinkle in her eyes. Cute, he said instead. Alright. I agree with you. I think right now  her Freshman year, only fifteen  waiting till winter break is the best way to go.

Okay. Ill back you up. Stephanie set her mug down, imitating Maxs position. How is she doing? She talks to me, but Im never sure if she tells me everything thats going on in her life. Is she making any friends?

Did she tell you about Erica? Max walked over to the fridge, suddenly in the mood for a beer. He had his hand on the handle when he remembered it was no longer his house. He stopped, awkward. Um, do you mind

?

No. Theres Miller Light on the door. Stephanie watched as Max got himself a beer, her heart hurting at the sight that was once so familiar to her. She cleared her throat to clear away the memory. Erica?

Yeah. Some little Goth girl she met. A Junior girl. Seems nice enough. I guess her mom owns the shop where Clara wants to get the job at.

She hasnt mentioned her. There was hurt in Stephanies voice.

Eh, its a pretty recent thing. I think the only reason I know about it is because I dropped her off at the girls house one night.

Stephanie was silent for a long moment. Even though her youngest was upstairs, asleep in her old bedroom, she felt so removed from her. It varied on how often she saw Clara. Sometimes it was twice a month, sometimes twice a week, sometimes shed go an entire month without seeing her at all. It was all up to Clara, which made it so difficult. The times when she didnt see Clara at all, or saw her less, she couldnt help but wonder if it was something shed done wrong. Had she let the girl down as a mother somehow. Never ending questions and doubts. She wondered if shed ever get used to it, and in some ways, hoped she wouldnt. If she got used to it, would that mean she no longer cared as much?

Max watched Stephanie, paying careful attention to her expression as her emotions changed with her thoughts. Hed known the woman for more than half of her life, and knew well what was going on inside her mind. No matter how many problems theyd had as a couple, there was never any doubt about how much she loved her children.

This is harder on her than you think, Steph, he said softly. I think Clara is very confused by all this. It doesnt help that shes never even so much as had a boyfriend, let alone a husband to understand what can happen between two people. She loves you, and she hurts.

How did we mess it up so badly, Max? she asked, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to keep her emotions under control. There was no answer from Max, which she didnt expect there to be. It had mostly been a rhetorical question anyway.

Whats important is that no matter what, weve got to keep the girls in mind first. We decided to bring them into this world, and very fucked up situation, so now weve got to protect them.

Yeah, Stephanie blew out, feeling suddenly very tired. Youre right.

Max threw back the rest of his beer, then tossed the bottle in the trash. I should go. He grabbed his keys off the counter. If you need me to come pick up Clara Sunday let me know.

Okay. I should be able to get her home. Or Kerri can. But thanks. Stephanie followed him to the door, watching as he stepped out onto the front porch. He turned and gave her a smile and a small wave. Be careful. Are you okay after drinking that beer?

Yeah, fine, he called as he made his way down the path toward where his truck was parked. Night.

Stephanie watched him climb in and turn on the engine. Good night, Max, she sighed, and closed and locked the front door.

Clara stopped, bringing up a hand to cover the phone as she thought she heard footsteps in the hall outside her door. She was right, and heard Kerris bedroom door open then close.

Im going to have to go soon, she said, uncovering the phone. My sister will want to use the phone.

When can I see you again? Erica asked, impatience in her voice. How long are you stuck at your moms?

Im here until Sunday. Clara tried to fight her sadness, as she wanted to see Erica in the worse way. It had been a whole day! She brightened as an idea hit her. Im going to a movie with my mom and Kerri tomorrow. Why dont you come over after? We can hang out here.

Will your mom mind? I mean

you know.

Clara grinned. Were not going to make out in the living room or anything, she said, then immediately blushed. She could hear Ericas laughter on the other end of the line.

Youre all flushed, arent you?

No, she lied.

Yes you are. Youre blushing! Youre blushing!

Stop! Clara buried her face in her hand.

Erica laughed. Okay, okay. I have to work until three. What time is your movie?

Noon.

Okay. Ill call you when I get home and showered. Whats your moms number?

Clara gave her the familiar digits, then quickly hung up the phone as the line had already been picked up twice in just the five minutes since Kerri had gone into her room.

Phones free!! she yelled out.

She plopped onto her back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, a hand resting on her stomach. She felt giddy and goofy all at the same time. I kissed someone! Better yet, someone kissed me!

That is so cool, she whispered.

They had spent the rest of that day together, hanging out at the mall for awhile, then going to see a movie. Theyd glance over at each other shyly, then laugh at their own antics. Clara felt her heart flutter every time she had seen Erica at school over the previous week. They were in different grades, which meant their classes were in different halls, and typically different levels of the building. Seeing each other was rare, though Erica had given her a ride home the one day she didnt have to report immediately to work.

They hadnt really talked about the kiss since it happened, but Clara could feel the same intense energy coming off Erica in waves ever since. She felt the older girl wanting to find a way to do it again, and Clara was more than willing to give it another round, but wasnt sure how to go about it. She figured Erica knew more about that kind of stuff, so would leave it to her.

Clara found herself sitting on a stone bench, cold beneath her. She looked around, noting the sky was a strange yellow, rose hue in color. No clouds floated by, only the bright purity of color. The ground at her feet was inlaid stones cut into geometric shapes, the bench of the circle they created. Behind her was a hedge, probably at least five feet high, thick and lush. The hedge wall was formed in a horseshoe-shape, leaving an opening, which Clara looked out of.

A pathway led from the circle of stones to a small knee-high maze of cut hedges, which she could see was in some sort of Celtic knot pattern Beyond that was another path, which connected to another circular setting of the inlaid stones, and a bench similar to the one she sat on. Instead of a hedge wall around that circle, there was a huge X-shaped sculpture behind the bench.

Beautiful, isnt it?

Clara whipped around, shocked to find the dark-haired woman sitting next to her. You scared me.

Im sorry. She smiled, bringing a hand up and gently caressing the side of Claras face. Youve turned into such a beautiful young woman, Clara. Like your mother. Her dark hair was pulled back away from her face, her dark eyes with the ever-present twinkle in them. She wore dark clothing, fitted close to a petit frame.

Who are you?

My name is Rebecca. But you can call me Grandma.

Clara was confused as she looked at the woman who couldnt be any more than thirty. Grandma? she asked. The woman nodded. Before Clara could say anything else, the woman changed. Her dark eyes turned green, black hair brown, cut in a style that Clara was very familiar with. Suddenly before her sat her grandmother, her mothers long-dead mother. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes.

Shhh. Its okay, Rebecca said, wiping away a few stray tears, even as her appearance slowly faded back to that of the woman with dark hair and eyes. Ive been watching you for a very long time. Your whole life, actually.

Why do you look like this? I dont understand



This, Rebecca said, looking down at herself, is what my soul looks like. You know me by what I looked like in my last life. But, I assure you, Im one in the same. Her smile was contagious, and Clara felt herself return it, if shyly. Ive been waiting a long time to talk to you. But first, theres someone who wants to say hello.

Clara followed her grandmothers pointing finger, a gasp and a cry escaping her throat. She was on her feet and running toward the Celtic hedge maze. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him as she cried.

Im so sorry, she sobbed into his shoulder. I wanted to warn you.

Shh. Hey, I know, he soothed, rubbing her back. Its okay. Everything happens as its supposed to, Clara.

She pulled away fro him just enough to look up into his eyes. She studied his face, pulling away a bit more to look him over. He looked as young and strong as ever. Why do you look like you and she doesnt? she asked, indicating Rebecca, who still sat on the bench, patiently waiting.

Because how else were you going to recognize me? he asked, a brow raised in question. Clara half-laughed, half-sobbed as she hugged him close again.

God, Ive missed you. She pulled away after a long moment, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

Ive missed you, too. I have to go now, Clara, but please tell my dad that I love him, and I dont blame him, okay? He looked her dead in the eyes, making sure she fully understood. Okay?

Okay. I promise.

Jason squeezed her arm as he began to back away, never taking his eyes off her. And Clara, look for the birds.

Clara stared after him as he turned and walked back towards the X sculpture, fading into the bench until he was gone. The birds? she asked, confused.

Come sit with me, Clara. We have a lot to talk about, Rebecca called softly from the bench.

Clara turned to face her, a flutter of love in her belly. As she looked at the woman sitting there, her youthful face and eyes, somehow she knew that Rebecca was telling the truth. In her eyes she saw the truth, and she saw the love she always felt when she looked at the picture in the living room of her mothers house. Though this time there wasnt the grief and heartache to go along with it.

Where is this place? she asked, once again sitting next to Rebecca.

This is the other side. The place where youll return to when you die.

Clara looked around, stunned. Is this Heaven?

Rebecca chuckled. If you want to call it that, but thats not entirely correct. She shrugged. Its the other side.

Clara studied her for a long time, her grandmothers gaze unwavering. You are my grandmother, arent you?

Rebecca smiled. Yes, Clara. I am. I died in that car accident in 1958 with your grandfather and your aunt, Carol Ann. Your mother, her younger brother and sister were the sole survivors.

Clara could hear sadness in Rebeccas voice, as well as a slight hitch. Im sorry, she whispered, wanting badly to give Rebecca a hug. Can I

 she chewed on her bottom lip. Without having to say anything else, Rebecca opened her arms. Claras eyes slid closed as she felt herself engulfed in warmth and love like shed never known. It was beyond unconditional. It was beyond motherly and beautiful. It was a truly religious event.

I love you, little Clara, Rebecca whispered. I always have. Your mother, too. Will you tell her that for me? That I love her and Im sorry?

Clara nodded, her eyes closed as she allowed herself to be rocked and caressed.

Claras eyes opened wide as she gasped, pulled into the world of the waken. She looked around the bedroom in her moms house, trying to figure out what had woken her. The knock sounded again on the door.

Clara, honey, are you awake? I need you to open the door, Stephanies muffled voice said from the hall.

Groggy, Clara pushed the covers off her and made her way to the door, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she did. She pulled the door open only to find her mother standing there, tray laden with steaming pancakes, freshly cooked bacon and eggs, and a tall glass of orange juice and milk, and a smile.

Stephanie hurried past her daughter, about to drop the heavy tray. Come on. Have breakfast with me.

Clara walked back to the bed, sitting cross-legged as her mother got everything organized and ready for consumption.

I know damn well that youre surviving off Lucky Charms at your dads, she continued, preparing everything exactly how her daughter liked it. So, she said, finally meeting Claras gaze, I wanted to make you something special this morning.

Grandma says she loves you and shes sorry, Clara blurted out, having no idea where that had come from. Since opening the door for her mother, the strange dream she was having had already begun to fade into strange images of hedges and X-shaped sculptures. And Jason. Oh, Jason. She felt tears sting at the backs of her eyes as she cut herself a fluffy bite of pancake.

She did? Stephanie asked, fighting her knee-jerk need to deny what Clara said. When? She slid a bit of scrambled egg into her mouth.

Im not sure, Clara said, brows drawn. I just know that she told me to tell you that.

Stephanie forced a smile. The subject of her dead parents had always been a difficult one for her. It brought back memories of a cruel aunt and uncle, and the feeling of being abandoned her entire life. Im glad you did, sweetie. Thank you.

Clara nodded, tucking into her breakfast with vigor.

The movie and day spent with her mother was a good one. The movie had sucked, but Stephanie was always fun to hang around with, though Clara would never admit that aloud. She was grateful that she had gotten permission for Erica to come over, which she did around six-thirty that night.

And, Clara said with a flourish, flinging her door open. this is my room.

Erica stepped inside, looking around with open curiosity. She wondered what the sleeping digs of the younger girl would look like. Clara was a bit of a mystery to her. One minute she was quiet and introspective, the next she was jabbering on about whatever came to her mind. But, all in all she found her to be a quiet, shy girl who was filled with unwitting charm and definite beauty.

Very nice. Erica walked over to a poster of a famous singer. I wouldnt have you placed you in the Jon Bon Jovi fan camp, she said, tapping the poster with a raised brow.

Yeah, well, Clara said, feeling shy and extremely nervous at having her new friend in her bedroom. Shed already given her the tour of the rest of the house, purposely leaving the room for last. I dont seem like a lot of things.

This is very true, Erica said, walking back over to Clara. I missed you this week, she said, her voice low. She took hold of Claras hand as she walked past her, just far enough to push the bedroom door closed, then tugged the girl until they were nearly body to body. A lot.

Clara felt her heart begin to do a jig in her chest. I missed you, too. She swallowed, feeling her breathing begin to pick up just a bit as she had a very good idea of what was about to happen. Erica let go of her hand, sliding her palm up Claras arm, over her shoulder, and finally to the back of her neck and head.

God, Erica whispered, her lips nearing Claras. Ive been wanting to do this all week.

Claras eyes slid closed, only to pop open when there was a loud knock at the door. Shit! Clara hissed, jumping away from Erica and heading to the door. Kerri stood on the other side.

Hey, the older girl said. Im going to Abbys for a party tonight, and dont know if Ill be back before you leave tomorrow.

Clara felt her stomach clench slightly at the mention of her sisters blonde friend, but then felt immediately guilty, as Erica stood next to her. Okay. Have fun and it was good to see you.

Kerri gave her a half-hearted one-armed hug then headed out, never giving Erica the time of day.

That was my sister Kerry, Clara explained, her hand on the doorknob to close it when she heard her mothers voice.

Hey girls? Stephanie called from the bottom of the stairs. You want some popcorn and a movie?

Clara glanced back at Erica. You hungry?

Stephanie was completely unaware of the longing looks tossed back and forth between her movie mates. She sat on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and happily munched on popcorn. Clara sat next to her, Erica on the comfortable chair that matched the sofa and loveseat. She liked Claras new friend, but didnt understand why shed cover up her natural beauty underneath all that heavy makeup and dark, creepy eye shadow.

Clara was miserable. She wanted nothing more than to grab Erica by the hand and run upstairs to her bedroom with her and be kissed again. She felt guilty, knowing that she saw her mother so rarely, and didnt have the heart to decline Stephanies invite to them. Her only solace was that the movie was almost over. On the flip side of that coin, it was nearly ten, and she wasnt sure how long Erica would be allowed to stay.

Erica, for her part, wanted nothing more than to grab Clara, throw her down onto her bed, and undress her with her teeth. She glanced over at the center of her carnal interest, her gaze falling to Claras breasts, hugged tight in a knit sweater. She groaned inwardly. Goddess, give me patience.

The movie came to end and the credits began to roll. Stephanie stretched, smiling over at her daughter. Did you like it? The girl at the rental place said it was good. She was right.

Yeah. It was great, Mom. Thanks. Clara gave her mother a smile, which she hoped Stephanie believed. She glanced over at Erica, silent communication passing between them just before Clara glanced at the clock. Mom, its getting kind of late, and I was wondering if maybe Erica could just stay the night.

Erica was stunned  though secretly thrilled  at the prospect. She looked from Clara to Mrs. Greenwold, trying to give her best, most innocent look.

Stephanie looked from one hopeful face to the other, then back again. Sure, sweetie. She smiled and leaned over to kiss her daughter goodnight. You guys keep it down. She looked at Erica. Please make sure its okay with your mom, okay?

Sure thing, Mrs. Greenwold, Erica said, taking the cordless phone that Clara passed to her.

Clara climbed the stairs, easily able to pick up on Ericas energy behind her. Once they entered her bedroom once again, she closed the door, but before she turned around, she said, Can we maybe talk for awhile? She was nearly trembling, wanting Erica to kiss her again, but she didnt want it to just be that. Plus, she was nervous and worried about where the kissing would lead. She could sense how excited Erica got, and had no doubt the older girl wasnt new at all of this.

Sure, Erica said, sitting on the edge of Claras bed. What do you want to talk about? Erica tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, knowing that she had to take it easy with Clara.

Well, Clara said, walking over to her friend. She pushed her back on the bed, positioning Erica so her head rested on one of the pillows. She walked over to the light switch and flicked it off, the glow-in-the-dark stars coming to life. She lay down next to Erica, her hands resting safely on her stomach. I dont know. Anything.

Erica stared at the solar system above her. Wow. Thats really cool. As she stared at the stars, she felt like she could reach up and touch them. Doing just that, she could barely make out her raised arm in the darkness, her fingertips only touching air.

Thanks. Ive been staring at those most of my life. Clara glanced over at Erica, not able to see her profile just yet, her eyes not adjusted to the darkness of her bedroom. Slowly, however, her friend began to come into shadowy focus. How long have you been into girls? she nearly whispered.

Erica turned her head, looking where she figured Claras face should be. All my life, I think. I was pretty young when I knew. That much I know for sure.

Does Cassandra know? Clara turned to her side, sliding her arm underneath her pillow and head.

Erica nodded, but then remembered Clara likely couldnt see the gesture. Yeah. I think she knew before I did, actually.

Is she cool with it?

Erica smirked. Theres very little I could do that Cassandra wouldnt be cool with. She also turned to her side, able to see a bit more of the younger girl. Have you always known you were into girls? Or are you even into girls? Are you just into me?

Clara smiled. No. I like girls. I think I figured it out  well, was able to admit it to myself, anyway  last year. I never told anyone. Not even Jason.

Why?

Clara shrugged the shoulder that wasnt pressed into the mattress. I dont know. Afraid, I guess. Im not sure what my parents will say. My sister will call me a freak, Im sure. She sighed, feeling somewhat sorry for herself. I dont know if I can ever tell them.

Give it time. Im sure itll be fine.

They lay in contemplative silence for a moment before Clara spoke. If Cassandra isnt your mother, who is she?

Its a long story, Clara, Erica said, feeling somewhat protective of her past.

Clara grinned. Good thing weve got all night then, huh?

Erica returned the grin, able to almost totally make out Claras features now. Cute. Okay, fine.

If you dont want to tell me, dont.

No. Ill tell you, though I doubt youll believe me. My mother and Cassandra were girlhood friends, growing up in a tiny town in Romania. They belonged to a gypsy family. One day my mother got pregnant  raped  and guess what? Poof! Here I come. There was slight bitterness in her voice. She died during childbirth, and made Cassandra promise shed take me to America and raise me. So, she did.

If she raised you from birth, why dont you just call her mom? Clara asked, unable to stop herself as she reached out a hand and touched Ericas arm.

Because she didnt want me to. She always told me about my mom, and what she was like. Gave me pictures of her. Cassandra didnt want me to forget her, or try and replace her, so Ive always called my mother mom, and Cassandra by her name.

Clara was quiet for a moment. Youre right. I dont believe you. She giggled as suddenly she found herself the victim of very fast, and very strong tickling fingers.

You dont, huh? Erica said through clenched teeth, grinning as she pinned Clara to the bed with her playful assault.

No! Clara cried, though Erica wasnt sure if she was telling her to stop tickling her, or that she didnt believe her.

No what? Huh? She had moved so she was straddling the younger girl, who continued to squeal at her attack.

Okay! Clara cried, trying desperately to grab Ericas hands so shed stop tickling her. I believe you! I believe you!

Erica stopped, nearly panting from the exertion. She chuckled as she moved off of Clara, lying on her side next to the girl who was sprawled out on her back. Youre fun, she said, brushing some bangs out of Claras eyes.

Clara got herself under control. You, too. She rolled over onto her side, holding herself up on one elbow so she could look down at her friend. Is that true about your mom?

Yes, Erica said, her voice soft. She looked up into Claras eyes, mesmerized by their color and depth. Come here.

Clara leaned down, one of Ericas hands finding its way to the back of her head, fingers losing themselves in the short locks of her hair. The kiss was immediate, both girls sighing into the contact. Clara loved the feel of Ericas tongue moving against her own, and opened her mouth a little wider, accepting more inside.

Erica slowly urged Clara closer, until finally she had gotten her to lay atop her. Clara wasnt sure what to think, the feel of Ericas length against her own sending shooting waves of pleasurable heat between her legs. At the same time, it felt incredibly bizarre to lay on top of another persons body. She was worried she would hurt Erica, whos frame was petit, but with enough of Ericas urging, she finally lowered herself completely, resting her weight on her forearms, which rested on either side of Ericas head.

Erica was anxious to feel Claras body, and ran her hands down and over her shoulders and back as the kissing continued. She was so turned on, and could tell Clara was, too. She ran her hands down Claras sides, able to feel her breasts. She was pleased by the surprised little gasp that incited, as well as by the way Claras hips bucked slightly, completely involuntarily. Erica took that opportunity to shift their positions slightly.

Clara wasnt sure what Erica was doing, and nearly moved off her when she felt a thigh come into contact with her center, sending shocking jolts throughout her entire body. She broke the kiss, her forehead finding Ericas shoulder as she pressed down against the pressure.

That feels so good, she breathed, her breaths ragged and hot against Ericas neck as she placed a kiss there.

I know, Erica whispered, her hands finding Claras backside and grabbing hold, pressing Clara firmer into her thigh. Ride it, baby, she whispered.

Clara couldnt stop. It was as though her body had totally gone out of her control. The pleasure was coursing through her, and she couldnt stop it, didnt want to stop it. She buried her face in Ericas neck as her orgasm exploded from her. Erica held on as Claras body shook violently, her own arousal pushed back by the surprise of how hard the other girls body had reacted.

Clara felt immense shame as she pulled away from Erica, tears running down her face. She moved away, curling up on the edge of the bed.

Hey, Erica said, moving up behind her, utterly confused. Whats the matter? Why are you crying?

Im so embarrassed, Clara whispered.

Why? Erica leaned over her, brushing bangs out of closed, wet eyes. Why are you embarrassed, Clara? That was amazing. Really beautiful.

Clara didnt know how to respond. How could she tell Erica that she had just experimented with masturbation three weeks before, only reaching orgasm twice? She felt ashamed and bad, like a very young girl playing a very big girls game.

Im sorry, Clara, Erica said, moving in until she was spooning Claras body. I didnt mean to push you too far. Im really sorry. She rested her cheek against Claras shoulder, letting the younger girl work through her own emotions, meanwhile letting her know that she was there with her.

After a few moments Clara got herself under control. Its not your fault, Erica. Im sorry Im such a baby. She sniffled, reaching over to the nightstand to snag a tissue from the box next to her alarm clock. She wiped at her face and chin, blowing her nose.

Youre not a baby. Im just really sorry. I dont ever want to make you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed again.

Clara turned over to her back, Erica moving to give her the space. She rested on her side, head held in her hand as she looked down at Clara. She was amazed all over again at just how beautiful Clara really was, made even more so by the fact that the girl had no idea.

Clara stared up into Ericas face. What did we just do? she asked, truly baffled. She felt a new wave of embarrassment wash through her as Erica chuckled softly. What? Im sorry, okay? Im new at all this.

I know. Its fine. Im sorry. Erica cleared her throat, trying to calm herself even though what she really wanted to do was burst into hysterical laughter at the innocent comment, as well as to release a bit of her pent-up arousal. Its called dry fucking.

Clara scrunched up her nose. Dry fucking? Sounds painful.

And anything but dry, Erica said with a wink. Certainly not according to her absolutely saturated Calvin Klines. Its when you have sex with your clothes on, she explained.

Claras eyes got huge. We had sex? she whispered.

Erica suppressed another laugh. She nodded. Essentially. But, its all up to what you define as sex.

Chapter 14

Clara was on top of the world! She swore she heard Frank Sinatra singing in her head. Start spreading the news

 she sang along, humming the rest of the crooners famous song. There was a pep in her step, and smile on her face. I have a girlfriend! It had been two weeks since Erica had spent the night, and that night they had decided to officially go out. They had done more kissing and more messing around after Clara had gotten over her initial embarrassment, but she hadnt let it go much beyond that. She wanted it to be special, and not dry fucking.

Her parents, of course, had no idea what was going on between the two. All Max knew was that Clara spent a great deal of time either with her new friend, or at The Pagan. Clara was still miffed that she wasnt allowed to accept Cassandras offer of a job until winter break, but that was coming up in a month and a half, so she was looking forward to it.

She made her way to the kitchen for breakfast before school, her left eye twitching slightly from the new makeup shed applied moments before. She had no idea what her father was going to say, and didnt much care.

Good morning, sweetpea, Max said to his daughter, dropping the last scoopful of grounds into the maker.

Morning, Dad. Clara poured herself a bowl of Lucky Charms and grabbed the milk from the fridge. Within a few moments her father had joined her at the table, spreading strawberry jam on his toast.

Max glanced over at his daughter, then did a second take. What is that shit on your face? he asked, peering closer at the eyeliner and dark shadow that covered her lids.

Its called makeup, she drawled, feeling somewhat defensively as she wasnt entire secure in wearing it. After all, Erica had just shown her how to apply it the weekend before.

I know that, smartass. Why are you wearing it? You hate makeup.

Clara shrugged, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into her mouth so she wouldnt have to answer verbally right away.

Max shook his head. Whatever, kid. Just dont go too far with it.

Yes, master, Clara muttered, rolling her eyes.

Hey. Whats with the attitude? He stared at the top of her head, as she continued to eat. Shaking his head, and not wanting to deal with teenaged tude before work, he finished his breakfast then cleaned up his mess. I gotta go. Remember, Ill be home late tonight. He gave the girl a kiss on her head. Erica is giving you a ride home, right?

Clara nodded, perking up at the mention of Ericas name. Can she hang out for awhile? she asked, hope in her eyes.

Sure. Shes not spending the night, though. You got school tomorrow.

Okay.

Damn, youve gotten good at that, Erica said, looking into her rearview mirror to re-apply her lipstick after a heated make out session. After picking Clara up for school, shed parked around the corner so she could give her a proper hello.

Clara grinned, quite proud of herself, judging by Ericas flushed face. She wasnt sure about the rest yet, but she knew she loved kissing. So, my dad is going to be late tonight, and he said you can hang out after school if you want.

Erica glanced at her girlfriend, a smile spreading across her newly-painted lips. Really? she drawled.

Yes. Really. Clara pulled down the passenger seat visor and looked into the mirror mounted on the underside. She had done a good job with the eye makeup, she had to admit. She was amazed at how it made her eyes stand out even more. She wasnt so sure about the lipstick, but Erica said she liked it. She puckered up, blowing a kiss at herself as Erica got the car started, and them headed towards John Freed High School.

Alright, guys. Get outta my class! Mr. Estrata called out, his students already packing away their books as the bell continued to shriek. He sat behind his desk in his regular position: seat slightly tilted back, hands clasped behind his head. He loved his job, and genuinely cared about his students. Hed been teaching for seventeen years, and it never got old. He knew hed been born to teach, and was thankful every day he had the chance.

It had been a good year so far. Most of his students  though he cared about them, and wanted them to do well  were just a blur to him. There were usually only one or two that passed through his classroom every year that really got his attention. Clara Greenwold was one of them that year. He watched as she shoved her text book into her backpack, about to zip it up and sling it over her shoulder.

Clara, he called, never stopping the casual rocking of his chair.

Yeah, Mr. Estrata? the girl said, her hand in mid-zip.

Can you hang for a second after all these guys leave? the English teacher asked, indicating the students filtering out of the room in a loud burst of excitement that another day was over.

Okay. Clara sat back in her chair, worried that maybe shed done something wrong. Shed been noticing all day that she was getting stares with her new look, though wasnt sure if they were positive or negative ones. She wasnt entirely sure about her new look, either, and hoped that her teacher wasnt going to tell her she looked ridiculous. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. No. Its none of his business. Thats not what he wants to talk about.

When the room was empty, Clara made her way to Alex Estratas desk, leaning a hip against it, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him expectantly.

The teacher sat up in his chair, not sure how to go about the discussion hed been wanting to have with his student for three weeks. He rubbed his palms on the legs of his trousers, and finally just blurted it out. Clara, what really happened that day?

Clara looked at him, shocked. Huh? she said, not sure shed understood correctly.

The correct response would be: Excuse me, Mr. Estrata? I didnt understand your question.

Clara grinned, unable to be irritated at her favorite teacher. Okay, fine. Excuse me, Mr. Estrata? I didnt understand your question because your question was so friggin vague.

The teacher burst into laughter. I like you, Greenwold. Here, he stood and pulled a chair around to sit beside his desk. Have a seat. Once his student was seated and comfortable he continued. That day you scared the bejesus out of all of us when you disappeared. He faced her, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. What happened? Where did you go? Ive heard the rumors, but I want to hear it from you.

Clara studied him, not sure what to say, or how honest she should be. His dark eyes held nothing but curiosity, and something else that she couldnt quite define. She felt he had something more to say or ask, but was working his way up to it. I saw a spirit and I followed it, she said simply.

Alex Estrata nodded. Thats what I thought. So, you speak to ghosts, then?

I can see the dead, yes. Ive never spoken to them. And, she faltered, her grandmother coming back to her in a quick flash, they dont always speak to me.

He nodded. I see. Have you ever tried? To speak to them? Or is it just not possible?

Clara shrugged. I havent really tried, I guess. It usually happens so fast that Im either started, or too scared to speak to them. Or try, anyway.

Alex nodded again with a small smile. Okay. Thanks, Clara. You can go. He began to turn away when she stopped him, a hand on his arm.

Wait, somethings up. What is it that you really kept me here to ask, Alex?

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the girl who suddenly sounded very much like a grown adult, in full charge of her abilities. His first name from her lips surprised him, as well. One look in her eyes and he knew that she could help him. He changed his tone to match hers: deeper, calm, and dead serious. My wife died three years ago when she committed suicide. The problem is, I dont believe she did commit suicide. Something tells me you can help me.

Yes. I can. Clara had no idea where the words were coming from, but she felt them from the bottom of her soul. Tell me what you want me to do?

Mr. Estrata smiled shyly, feeling like what he was asking was completely inappropriate. Id really like you to come to my home and see what you feel. But, he said, holding up a hand to forestall a response. I want your dad to come with you. I dont need stories swarming through this place about my inviting a fifteen year old student to my house.

Clara nodded. Okay. Ill tell him. Just tell me when and where.

Clara found Erica waiting for her in her car, the heater and music blasting. Hey, she said, climbing into the 4Runner.

Hey. Where were you? Erica turned down the radio and got herself buckled up.

Mr. Estrata wanted to talk to me about something. Clara tossed her backpack into the backseat and got settled in for the short drive to her house.

What did he want to talk to you about? Erica waited for a school bus to pull out of the circular drive where students met their rides, then merged onto the street that ran in front of the school. The snow was coming down in earnest, which caused her to slow her speed.

Clara chewed on her bottom lip, debating on how much to tell her girlfriend. Her English teacher had asked her to keep it between the two of them, and she respected him too much to blab. She settled on the partial truth. He wanted to know what happened to me that day, the day I saw that guy.

Boiler Room Ghost? Erica clarified.

Yep. So, I told him the whole sordid tale.

Wow. Really? Erica spared a glance at her passenger. She reached over and grabbed Claras hand, entwining their fingers.

Clara grinned over at her, squeezing her fingers in appreciation. Yeah. Hes a cool teacher. I knew hed be cool about it.

The rest of the drive to her house was in relative silence. Clara absently stroked the back of Ericas hand with her thumb, her mind back on her conversation with her teacher. He asked if she and her dad could be at his house over the weekend. The alleged suicide had happened there, his wife found there. No investigation had been done, the M.E. declaring it suicide.

Claras mind raced, her thoughts a jumbled ball of images and sounds. She wasnt entirely sure what she was picking up, as little of it made sense, but she knew they werent her own thoughts, and certainly not her own memories.

Clara?

Huh? She looked at Erica, thrown at hearing Ericas voice.

I asked if you wanted to get something to eat. Are you hungry?

Oh. Yeah. Sorry.

An hour later they lay on Claras bed, Erica exploring the younger girls neck with her mouth. Claras eyes were closed, her body alive with sensations. She gasped softly when a hand covered her left breast, and of its own volition, her back arched, pressing herself further into Ericas palm. Erica groaned in approval, nipping at the skin of Claras throat.

I really want to see you naked, Erica murmured, using her thumb and index finger to tease the nipple, which had begun to push against Claras bra and shirt.

The words both infused Clara with heat, and frightened her at the same time. She pushed the fear away, but did not encourage Ericas statement, either. Instead, she buried her fingers into dark strands, pressing Ericas face further into her neck. She was on fire! The insides of her thighs were slick with what her body wanted, but her mind wasnt entirely ready for, yet.

Ericas need for more was building quickly. The night at Claras moms had been an anomaly, apparently. Clara had made no move to go much further than they were at the moment since. Erica had not seen the younger girl naked at all, nor had she been invited to touch. Covering the breast that she held in her hand was the first time shed ventured there. After Claras dramatic reaction to what happened at her mothers house, shed been careful.

You okay? she murmured against Claras throat.

Clara could only nod, her mind a haze of lust and want. She gasped as sensation flew from her nipple to between her legs. God, that feels so good, Erica, she moaned.

Despite all her good intentions, Erica couldnt help herself. She reached down and grabbed the hem of Claras shirt. She waited a brief moment for any signs of protest. Getting none, she lifted the shirt up and over Claras bra-clad breasts. She took in the sight like a dying man looking at his last meal. Her mouth watered.

Claras breath caught, her stomach roiling with knots of arousal, nerves, and the knowledge that her dad could be home at any minute. That thought flew out of her mind as she felt a wet tongue glaze across the bare skin of her right nipple.

Oh, god, she breathed, her hands flying to Ericas head, fingers burying themselves in her hair to hold her in place. Shed never experienced anything like it! Please dont stop.

Sweeter words Erica had never heard. She shoved Claras bra out of the way, fully exposing her girlfriends breasts to her. They were absolutely gorgeous. She covered one with her hand, her mouth the other. She lost herself in what she was doing, the little sounds of pleasure Clara was making her more and more wet.

She began to kiss her way back up to Claras mouth. What time does your dad get home? she asked against her lips.

I dont know, Clara panted, her hands clutching Erica to her. An hour. Maybe two.

Erica pushed up, holding herself up on her hands. Looking down into Claras face, she could see how turned on she was, her arousal visible in her flushed cheeks and heavily-lidded eyes. I really want you, Clara, she whispered, pressing her hips into Clara for emphasis. She smiled when she felt hands on her ass cheeks, pushing her harder down. I dont want to scare you, but I really, really want you right now.

Clara met her gaze, spreading her legs a bit so Erica would fit better between them. What do you want to do? she asked, her voice quiet. She asked partly out of pure ignorance of what was possible, as well as she wanted to hear what Erica would say, and how it would make her feel.

Erica lowered herself just a bit, only so she could hold herself up on one forearm. With her free hand, she pulled up her own shirt, as well as unhooked her front-clasp bra. Pushing the open sides apart, she lowered herself fully, bare breasts lying atop of Clara.

Claras eyes slid closed, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. Hot fluids saturated her panties all over again.

Erica pressed a little harder between her legs. Her voice was trembling from controlled want as she spoke. I want to feel that all over. Naked skin to naked skin. She pressed her hips a little harder, both moaning at the sensation. I want my mouth on you, she punctuated that statement with a passionate kiss. On your mouth. On your breasts, and here, she reached down, lifting herself just enough to slide her hand between their bodies. She cupped Claras crotch, amazed at how much heat she could feel through the denim of Claras jeans.

Clara looked at her, baffled through her arousal. You want your mouth down there?

Erica grinned as she nodded. Oh, yeah. Youll love it. It feels awesome. Erica moved off just enough so that she could easily reach the buttons of Claras jeans. Will you let me do that to you some time? she asked, tugging at the button fly.

Clara couldnt think, could only nod as she found herself mentally willing Erica to touch her. She couldnt believe she was allowing to happen what was potentially about to happen.

Erica groaned in approval as she pushed past the waistband of Claras panties, her fingers sinking into the saturated flesh between her legs. Jesus, youre so wet, she whispered, finding Claras mouth.

Clara was overwhelmed with what she was feeling as Ericas fingers slid through her sex. No one had ever been there before. Hell, shed barely been there! She closed her eyes, allowing herself to just feel. Her mind was a million miles away as wave after wave rush through her, sending her off on a roller coaster of both physical and emotional feelings. She cried out as Erica began to rub her clit in quick circles, her body already nearly poised for release.

Thats it, baby, Erica whispered, sensing that Clara was close. Come for me



Clara tried to keep it in, but it was impossible as her body exploded, sending her hips up off the bed with each spasm as Erica continued to rub her until finally Clara pushed her hand away, unable to take anymore.

Erica was painfully aroused. She grabbed Claras hand, not even bothering to undo her pants. She pressed the younger girls palm hard between her legs, sending her crashing over the edge. She pressed herself down hard on Claras hand, rocking until the pressure subsided.

It took a moment for them to get themselves together, but finally Clara pulled down her bra and shirt and sat up. Her hair was a mess, sticking up all over her head, which made Erica chuckle.

Well, its your fault! she grinned, slapping her girlfriend playfully.

And Id happily do it again. Erica kissed her quickly, then stood. The afternoons events wasnt exactly what she wanted, and certainly not what shed planned, but it would have to do for now. She got off the bed and got her clothing back in place. She looked down at Clara, who still sat on the bed. You really are gorgeous, you know that?

Clara blushed, not sure what to say to such a compliment. She muttered a thank you, and re-buttoned her jeans. She ran her hands through her hair and got to her feet. She walked over to Erica, putting her arms around the older girls neck. You are, too, she murmured against her lips.

Erica kissed her, long and deep. What are your thoughts on cemeteries? she asked once theyd come up for air.

Clara looked at her. Why?

Just tell me. Do you like them?

I dont know. Ive only been to them for funerals.

Will you come with me to one? Over the weekend, maybe?

Clara felt unsure, but nodded anyway. Okay. Sure.

Cool. They kissed again. I should go. Your dad will be home soon.

Okay. Clara walked Erica to the front door, then watched as she got in her car and drove away. Clara was filled with a tempest of different emotions and sensations as she headed back to her room. She groaned softly when she saw the rumpled bed, her body reacting to what had just occurred there. Jesus.

Chapter 15

Max glanced down at the page in hand, then back to the house hed stopped the truck in front of. Guess this is it.

Clara also took in the small, two-story house, the address her teacher had given her seen clearly on the mailbox. The house was white with dark green trim. A Ford Explorer was parked in the driveway, and the untouched morning newspaper still sat on the walkway where it had been thrown early that morning.

Together they walked up the path, which had been cleared of snow, and stepped up onto the wide front porch. It was a nice house, but the closer they got to it, the more Claras heart began to pound, and her stomach was tied in knots. She felt definite energy coming from the place, and wasnt sure what to make of it. She just hoped she could help her English teacher, though wasnt entirely sure how she was going to do that.

Hey, guys, Alex Estrata said with a welcoming smile. He held the front door open for Clara and Max to pass. Welcome.

Hi, Mr. Estrata.

Good to see you, Clara. Alex turned to her father. Mr. Greenwold, its nice to see you again. We met at the school that day. Im Alex Estrata.

Right, I remember. Nice to meet you, Alex. Call me Max.

Clara stopped paying attention as the men shook hands, her focus solely on the house. She walked further inside, the entryway connecting to a short hall where straight ahead was the kitchen, to the right was the living room. To the left were stairs leading to the second floor.

She walked into the living room, looking around, but not really seeing the well-kept furniture or the Oriental rug that covered the hardwood flooring at the center of the room. She didnt see the game that was playing on the television, nor the half-empty Coke can resting on a mahogany coaster on the coffee table. The stack of graded papers on the couch meant nothing to her as she absorbed the energy in the room, instinctually letting it flow through her.

Max was silent as he stood next to the teacher in the archway of the room. They watched Clara, neither sure what she was doing as she walked around the room slowly, almost as though in a daze. She didnt seem to settle her attention on any one thing. She didnt touch anything, nor linger at any spot.

What is she doing? Alex whispered.

Max shook his head, a sense of wonder and pride filling him. I dont know.

Clara almost felt as though there was a beacon calling for her, a ping in the air that only she could hear. She glanced towards the small doorway - which something told her would lead to another small hallway, which would end up in the kitchen and a bathroom  something catching her eye. She barely caught the movement of someone passing through, headed towards the kitchen.

Mr. Estrata? she said, her voice quiet, eyes riveted to the spot as she followed.

Yeah? Alex asked, following his student.

Is there anyone else here today? Clara asked, ending up in the kitchen, which was empty. She noticed a bowl, a coffee cup and spoon in the strainer, long-since dry.

No. My son is with my girlfriend who is visiting her parents this weekend.

Clara didnt respond, her attention drawn to the back door next to the kitchen counter, the filmy curtains over the small, square window blowing slightly back as though from a breeze. You have activity here a lot, dont you? she said, turning to her teacher, and really seeing him for the first time since shed arrived. He looked tired and sad. And surprised.

What do you mean? he asked warily.

Things moving. Disappearing only to show up somewhere you never left it. She had a snapshot image of Alex searching the entire house for his car keys, and knew that it had happened earlier that morning. She then saw a quick snapshot of the keys, hidden in a toy box. You might want to check for your keys in your sons toy box. Clara chuckled at the look of utter shock on her teachers face. He stared at her, mouth opening then closing, then opening again to speak, though no sound was made. Max smirked.

I

Okay. Ill check, Alex finally managed.

Clara turned her focus back to where she was being called. Can I go where I need to go? she asked absently, her gaze following the energy trail back towards the living room.

Of course, Alex said, stepping out of her way as she breezed past him and her father. Alex stood, stunned as he watched her go.

Are you okay? Max asked, a hand on the teachers shoulder.

Alex nodded. Yeah. I think so.

Clara walked through the living room, drawn to the stairs and the second floor. She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach, though couldnt quite identify what it was. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the balustrade, looking up. At the top she saw a woman appear. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, tennis shoes firmly tied.

Your wife. Was she into fitness? Aerobics, maybe? Clara asked Mr. Estrata, who stood a few feet behind her.

Yeah. She was a runner. Why?

Okay, Clara breathed out, ignoring Alexs question. Ive got the right person. She took a deep breath, then began to head up the stairs. She felt a heavy sense of dread with every step, but knew she had to continue on.

Just tell what you see, Clara. Trust yourself.

Clara faltered, the voice in her head clear. Somehow she knew it was the voice of

the voice of her grandmother! She had a quick scene pop into her head: a garden, stone bench. The woman with the dark hair. Rebecca! She smiled, a sense of comfort enveloping her. She felt at peace and safe as she began to climb the stairs once more.

At the top of the stairs, she could go immediately right, which looked to be the bedroom of a small child, likely Alexs son, straight, which was the master suite, or further right, past the boys room, which was a bathroom then a third bedroom. She didnt care about the bathroom or smeller bedrooms. Her focus was solely on the master.

Alex and Max followed at a distance as Clara headed down the hall with purpose in her steps. She slowed as she neared the large bedroom, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other resting lightly on her stomach.

The bedroom was large, lots of windows letting in sunlight to brighten the space. A cream-colored spread on the massive four-poster helped to reflect the light, making some parts nearly blinding. Clara saw none of that as her gaze was drawn to a spot in the corner. She gasped, making the two men behind her start in concern.

The woman she had seen at the top of the stairs was hanging, a rope around her neck, her still body swinging slightly. Clara looked up into her face, horrified to see the look of fear and desperation on the redheads pretty face. Blue eyes opened, making Clara take a slight step back.

Help me, the woman begged, her voice course and strained from the rope. Help me. Find him. Then she was gone.

Clara was shaken to her core by what shed just seen. All she could do was stare at the spot where the woman had been hanging, her eyes riveted to what was now a large plant hook.

Alex watched the girl carefully, his heart in his throat as memories flooded him. Clara was staring at the exact spot where Debra had been found. He watched as she turned around, tears in her twilight eyes, which looked up at him.

She died here, Clara said softly, reaching up a hand to wipe away a tear that had started to roll down her cheek. She was hung.

Alex nodded, unable to say anything. Hed never forget that as long as he lived.

This wasnt suicide, Mr. Estrata. Your hunch is right. She said a man did this to her.

What man? Alex finally managed to speak. Who murdered Deb?

Im not sure yet. Clara turned away from her teacher and looked around the room, trying to see where else she felt drawn. Immediately she stopped by the double closet doors, their mirrored surfaces reflecting the curious faces of Alex and her father. She ignored them, instead seeing an image come into focus. Debra was getting dressed, having just put on her panties and bra. She was pulling clothing out of the closet  shorts and a t-shirt  when she was grabbed from behind.

A hand flew to Claras mouth as she watched the brutal assault, unable to shake the feeling that Debra knew the man. She knew him, and he knew his way around the house. Had access to get in. She could only see him from the back, but his blonde hair was in direct opposition to Mr. Estratas dark, Spanish heritage.

When it was all over, the room became quiet again. Or, better yet, Claras mind became quiet, a calm settling over her. She could feel Debras presence in the room strongly, and could nearly pinpoint her exact location without seeing her. She took several deep breaths, trying to decide how to tell Alex what shed seen. Again, her grandmothers voice in her head: Just tell what you see, Clara

Okay, she blew out, turning to face the men. If the situation hadnt been so sad, she would have burst into laughter. Both, two full-grown men, were looking at her as though they were waiting for Christmas morning, bright-eyed and curious. She sobered her thoughts and turned to Alex Estrata. Heres what I saw. Your wife was getting ready for her day, picking out her clothes, that kind of thing. She was

 her voice faltered, not wanting to tell him such a horrible thing. Clearing her throat, she continued. She was attacked from behind. Raped. Then murdered.

Alex turned away, not wanting his student to see the instant emotion that filled his eyes. He took a deep breath, his hand on the back of his neck. I knew it, he blew out, looking up at the ceiling, as though asking for strength. Who did this to her, Clara?

Im not sure. I sense its someone she knew. I think he had a key. He was blonde. Medium build, though kind of on the short side. She trailed off, seeing Alex go pale at her description. You know who it was, dont you?

Alex sighed. Im not sure. Listen, I have some calls to make



Understanding, Clara nodded. Okay. She walked over to him, placing a tentative hand on his arm. If you need anything else, just ask. Okay? Id be happy to try again. Maybe get more for you.

Alex stared down into the eyes of Clara Greenwold, entirely too ancient for those of a fifteen and-a-half year old kid. He smiled, pulling her to him in a tight hug. Thank you, Clara. Youve given me a lot of closure today.

Clara hugged him back, a sense of pride and relief washing through her. She felt like shed just run a marathon, filled with both the exhaustion and elation of such an event. But most of all, she just felt at peace. Youre welcome. She sensed someone watching her, and looked into the corner of the room, under the plant hook. Debra Estrata stood there, watching, a smile on her face.

Thank you. Then she was gone.

Clara raised a hand, offering a small wave.

Chapter 16

Clara took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air as they left Alex Estratas house. She felt her chest puff out with pride and gratitude, though what she was grateful for she wasnt entirely sure.

Aw, jeez! Max exclaimed, bringing a hand up to his cheek, his finger coming back with a white substance on it.

Clara looked at it, then glanced up into the sky. She barely caught the tail feathers of a bird as it squawked into the cold day.

What the hell is a bird doing flying out this time of year? Max asked, wiping his face on the sleeve of his jacket.

Clara ignored her fathers question, her mind reeling. She heard a voice in her head. A very familiar voice: And Clara, look for the birds. She looked up again, the sky clear and gray.

Max was surprised to hear a burst of laughter from his daughter. What was it, a delayed reaction? He glanced at her, realizing that she wasnt even looking at him, but seemed to be staring off into some distant future. She met his gaze, a pleased smile on her lips.

Hes proud of me, Dad, she said, her voice trembling with emotion. Jasons proud.

Max was utterly baffled, but didnt get to ask as Clara climbed into the truck, slamming the door securely behind her, and seemingly on the topic at hand. Shaking his head, he followed.

I did it! I actually did it! Clara exclaimed, throwing herself into Ericas arms. The older girl was taken aback, stunned by Claras exuberance, and merely tried to hold on. Can you believe it? Can you fucking believe it?

Well, Im sure I could if I knew what you were talking about, Erica said, releasing Clara just long enough to push her bedroom door closed. She walked back over to her girlfriend, other ideas in mind. She grabbed Clara, intending to kiss her but Clara resisted.

Wait. No. Erica, I need to tell you something.

You can tell me in a minute, Erica said, grabbing Clara and pulling her in for a deep kiss. She was shoved away, hard.

Damn it, Erica, I said no. They looked at each other for a long moment, Claras heart pounding in her chest. God, do you ever think about anything else?

Erica was angry, but pushed it away. She walked over to the chair that was buried beneath clothing, throwing them harshly to the floor and sitting down in their place. Im sorry. What happened?

Clara didnt think that Erica really cared to hear what she had to say at that exact moment, but didnt care. She needed to talk about it. Say it out loud. I went to Mr. Estratas house today, she began, forgetting that she had never told her girlfriend about her teachers request in the first place. I did it! His wife came to me, and she told me what happened. She actually showed me, Erica! She showed me! Clara was nearly vibrating with her excitement, getting in Ericas face to emphasize her point. She pushed away from the older girl, standing in the center of Ericas bedroom and whirling in a circle, her adrenaline making her nearly manic.

Erica was completely confused, and still irritated at Claras rebuff. What the hell are you talking about, Clara? Why did you go to your English teachers house, and what the hell did his wife show you?

Clara realized her mistake and chewed on her bottom lip. Shit. She let out a breath and walked over to Erica. She felt bad for not giving her girlfriend a proper hello, so decided to try and kill two birds with one stone. She climbed up into Ericas lap, facing her. Erica automatically placed her hands on Claras hips. Clara leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Ericas lips. Hi. Im sorry, I was just really excited.

Its okay. And, just so you know, yes I do think of other things. She grinned rakishly. Just not much else.

Clara rolled her eyes. God, youre just like a boy.

Worse. Unlike them, I can shoot more than once.

Ew! God, thats so gross, Erica. Clara wrinkled her nose, eliciting a laugh from the older girl. She quickly got serious. Okay. Now, Im going to tell you something that is really private, okay? Promise me you wont say anything to anyone.

I promise, Erica pledged, her hands sliding down to cup Claras ass, pulling the girl closer. She smirked when Clara reached around, grabbing both hands and forcing them back to her hips.

Behave. I need you to really listen to me. Im excited.

Obviously. So tell me.

Okay. Clara blew out a breath, bringing her mind back to what had happened an hour earlier. Her father had dropped her off at Ericas house, per their pre-planned visit. What Mr. Estrata really wanted to talk to me about the other day after school was his wife. I didnt tell you because he asked me to keep it between him and I. Three years ago she died. It was declared suicide, but he always felt that wasnt the whole story. He knew what had happened with me and Boiler Room Boy, so he asked if Id be willing to go to his house and see what  if anything  I could find out.

Erica was stunned, her attention and interest completely piqued. Whoa.

Yeah. Thats where I just was My dad went with me.

What happened?

She was murdered, Erica, Clara said, her voice quiet, but filled with the awe of what shed just experienced. I saw it all happen. She actually showed me. God, she blew out, it was amazing. The images came back to her, and she felt a chill run down her spine, and sadness fill her heart. It was awful. She lowered her head, not wanting Erica to think she was weak as her eyes filled with tears, finally able to feel all the emotions of the afternoon.

Hey, Erica tipped her chin with two fingers. Why are you crying? She brushed strands of brown hair out of twilight-colored eyes.

It was terrible what happened to her, Erica, Clara whispered, meeting the dark, concerned gaze. She was raped first. Then- her voice broke as she saw Debra hanging in the corner again. She was gathered in tender arms and encouraged to cry against Ericas shoulder. She did, letting out everything that shed witnessed, her youth making it difficult to handle it.

Its okay, Erica cooed, resting her head against Claras, her arms holding the girl tightly against her. Its okay.

After long moments Claras tears subsided and eventually died. She stayed where she was, basking in the soft warmth of Ericas body against her. It felt good to be held and comforted. Even still, it didnt take long before she felt Ericas mouth on her neck. Hey, she said, pulling gently away. Are we still doing the cemetery thing tonight?

Erica looked up at Clara, successfully distracted from her task. She grinned, nodding. Oh yeah. Were going to do a memorial visit.

Whats that? She played with Ericas necklace as she spoke.

Well, its where you and me and a few friends hit the cemetery and celebrate life.

Celebrate life? Clara asked, uncertain, and feeling a little nervous knowing that they wouldnt be alone. Clara hadnt spent a lot of time with Ericas friends, and so wasnt keen on starting now.

Yeah. Itll be fun, I promise. Erica kissed Clara then nudged her off her lap. She dropped to her hands and knees and finally to her belly as she dug around under her bed, grunting as she stretched her arm as far as she could. She hooted in victory, pulling herself to her knees, a clear plastic bag in her hand.

Whats that? Clara asked, a little nervous.

Erica grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. A celebration of life, baby!

It was dark, and it was even colder. Clara held her jacket close to her body, looking around as she followed Erica and four of her friends  two guys and their girlfriends  through the darkened graveyard. She did her best not to bang her shins on the low stones that dotted the landscape.

This is kind of creepy, Erica, she whispered, feeling as though if she were to speak at regular volume, shed shatter the night.

I know. Isnt it great? Erica whispered back, excitement in her voice.

Just ahead they could hear the laughter and speaking voices of Ericas friends, as well as the flicker of a lighters flame. Clara watched as cigarettes were lit, and bottles opened. She began to feel uneasy as the party got started.

Erica

 she said, her voice trailing off.

Sensing what her girlfriend was about to say, Its okay. Its a celebration, Clara. A celebration of life and fun. Being alive and free. She smiled at Clara, her charm coming through. The explanation made sense to Clara, so she smiled back, though she still felt unsure about what was about to happen.

Erica and Clara finally caught up to their friends, and a bottle was passed to them. Erica raised it and a questioning brow, but Clara immediately declined. She had remembered what had happened last time, and that had only been while drinking beer, let alone something much stronger.

Are you sure, baby? Erica asked after taking a swig. Her breath in Claras ear smelled of Jack Daniels.

Im sure. Clara moved away slightly, uncomfortable with the intimacy in their position. Ericas friends were watching them, knowing grins plastered on their faces.

Here you go, guys, Erica said, handing the bottle back to her friend, Jeff. Hands free, she reached inside her jacket and pulled out the plastic bag from under her bed. There was a round of cheers as she held it up for all to see. Give me a lighter, Jeff. Erica removed a small, thin cigarette from the bag and put it between her lips. As the flame flickered to life, a sweet smoke began to rise from the cherry tip, making Claras nose twitch.

The joint was passed around, once again Clara declining. She was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable, but said nothing. She was afraid to look around, afraid of what she might see, or of who she might see.

As the liquor and drugs began to flow more freely, the group of six formed a circle next to a large crypt, everyone joining hands. Clara held Ericas hand in her left hand, a girl named Coreys hand in her right. She looked around the group, taking in each persons face as they all closed their eyes. Erica began to speak, her voice loud and clear in the quiet, cold night.

We come here tonight to rejoice the dead. We raise our hands, the group raised their arms, hands linked in the air, and celebrate! Watch us now. Watch as we relish life, and the living, among the dead.

Claras right hand was dropped as Corey turned to her boyfriend, Erica pulling Clara to her. She found herself in a deep kiss, Ericas body pressed into her. Breathless, she pulled away. Whoa, she panted, a hand on Ericas chest. What was that for?

Instead of an answer, Erica pushed her own jacket open, then began to unbutton her shirt. Clara watched, stunned as Ericas breasts came into view, the nipples darkened and painfully hard from the intense cold that surrounded them. She backed herself up until her back came into contact with the cold stone of the crypt.

Come here, baby, Erica whispered, taking Claras hand and tugging until their bodies are pressed together. I want you to fuck me, she hissed, taking Clara in a hard kiss.

Clara was both parts excited and frightened at the same time. She kissed Erica back, realizing that a beautiful, half-naked woman was begging her to take her. But, then she realized that a beautiful, half-naked woman was begging her to take her in a dark, cold cemetery!

All thoughts of quick sex with Erica were interrupted when she heard something behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and gasped, shocked to see that Corey was seated atop a headstone, her skirt pushed up, and her boyfriend between her legs, his pants down far enough to reveal half of his naked ass. They kissed and moaned as he continued to thrust into her.

Isnt it hot? Erica asked, brining Claras face back to her with her hand cupping her jaw. Watching him fuck her like that. She kissed Clara again, then whispered against her lips. I want you to fuck me like that, Clara.

Claras hand was taken and thrust up the skirt Erica wore. Clara gasped, realizing her girlfriend wore no underwear, her sex hot and wet. Three of her fingers were guided inside Ericas scorching sex, Erica crying out, her head falling back against the crypt she leaned against. Even though she was incredibly uncomfortable, Clara got so caught up in what she was doing: the fact that she was literally inside Erica, quickly thrusting inside her sex.

Hot juices nearly burned Claras hand as Erica came hard, her inner walls and muscles clenching and unclenching around her fingers. Ericas mouth fell open, a heavy sigh of relief escaping as a look of pure euphoria crossed her features.

Oh, baby, she moaned, grabbing the back of Claras head and pulling her in for a long, lazy kiss. God, that was wonderful. You are so fucking good. She tried to reach for the zipper of Claras coat, but the younger girl backed away, shaking her head. What? Whats wrong?

I cant do this, Erica, Clara said, looking around. The other two couples were still heavily involved. This is so wrong, she whispered, disgusted.

Whats the matter? Erica shoved her skirt down and zipped her coat, leaving her shirt unbuttoned beneath it. She grabbed the smoldering joint from the top of a headstone and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke into the cold night. Enjoy yourself, baby. Dont be such a fucking stick in the mud.

Its not about being a stick in the mud, Erica. Clara felt anger clutch at her, still able to feel Ericas juices on her fingers. God, this is just really messed up! Whats wrong with you guys?

Let her walk home, Erica, the other boy, who Clara thought was called Mason, said. His girlfriend was on her knees, enthusiastically giving him a blowjob.

Fuck off, Erica said to him, then turned back to Clara. This is part of whats its like to be with me, Clara. This is part of who I am. She indicated the cemetery around them, then walked up to her, caressing the side of her face with cool fingers. Baby, this isnt wrong. We are celebrating life, not trying to disrespect the dead. I swear. I have the ultimate respect for what you do, baby. I think its fucking hot.

Clara accepted the kiss she was given, but still wasnt convinced. When Erica pulled away, Clara wrapped her arms up around Ericas neck, deciding to try and use a weapon that she knew Erica was weak to. Then why dont we leave and be alone, she said, leaning up to lay kisses on Ericas neck. We can be alone, and I know you want to see me. She took Ericas hand, sliding it up under her coat and resting the palm on one of her breasts. She could hear Ericas breathing hitch and quicken. Bingo. She just wanted to get out of the cemetery, and take Erica with her. She had a really bad feeling.

Erica could feel her blood begin to boil once more. Okay.

Later that night they lay in Ericas bed, Claras naked body spooned by her sleeping girlfriend. Clara stared into the darkness, wondering if shed just made a huge mistake. There was no questioning anymore, just what exactly what theyd done so far was called. Shed given herself to Erica that night, completely and totally. Was she a woman now? Maybe. It was a stiff price to pay, but it got them out of the cemetery.

They would find out the next day that a gang had been trolling the graveyard, and had come upon Ericas friends. The boys had been beaten to an inch of their lives, and one of the girls had nearly been raped.

Chapter 17

Clara tried to focus on the TV program she was watching, but it wasnt working so great. She could hear the flirtatious voice of her father on the phone in the kitchen. He was talking to Kathy, his new squeeze. Shed met the woman once, and didnt like her from the outset. Max said it was because Kathy wasnt her mother, but Clara felt it was more than that. She sensed the woman was after something, but didnt know exactly what it was. It sure as hell wasnt his money.

Clara smirked at that thought as she finished eating her TV dinner. It was a Thanksgiving turkey surprise. The surprise was, the meat wasnt real, and what was real was the asshole of the turkey. Clara set her half-eaten dinner aside.

Disgusting, she muttered. Tomorrow was the big day, Turkey Day, and shed be spending it with her mom and Kerri. Her father had been invited, but hed opted to spend it with Kathy. Clara had been invited to the womans house, but there was no way in hell she was going to miss dinner with her mother for dinner with Kathy.

Clara was angry. She was really angry. She slumped further down in her chair, not even paying attention to the channels she surfed through. Her father hated it when she did that, as was one of the only males in North America who didnt. Exactly why she was doing it.

Hey, kiddo, grab a station and leave it, Max said, just ending his conversation and entering the room with his own dinner. Clara ignored him, continuing to channel surf, and with even more vigor than she was before. Clara, Max said, his voice sharp.

What? she said, not even bothering to look at him. She could tell he was trying to hold in his irritation, as they both knew damn well what she was angry about.

So, he said, trying to break the heavy tension in the air. You looking forward to turkey and your favorite  mashed potatoes and gravy  tomorrow?

Yep.

And pumpkin pie



Yep.

And then Christmas is just around the corner.

Yep.

Max threw his fork down, setting his untouched dinner aside. Damn it, Clara. We talked about this. He looked at his daughter, getting only her profile. I asked you how many weeks ago if you were okay with the fact that Id be dating. You said you were fine with it.

No, what I said was, if you want to date then do what you have to do. She glared over at him, unable to hide her hurt. I was never fine with it.

Clara, Im doing what I have to do to be happy. Why cant you understand that? he pleaded, wishing there was some way he could get her to understand.

Youve always done what you needed to do to make yourself happy, Dad, Clara said, her voice wavering as unshed tears threatened. Thats the problem. Thats why were here, she indicated the small apartment around them. Thats always been the problem with you. She shot up from the couch and grabbed her coat, slamming the front door behind her.

Max was stunned, sitting on the couch in the quiet apartment, only the sound of the commercial on the TV for company. He felt sick. Though he knew Clara was angry and hurt at him and at the situation  considering the upcoming holidays would be the first since the family split  but somehow he knew that what shed said wasnt all about emotions and anger. Shed meant it.

He put a hand to his chest, covering his heart, which hurt. It felt like it was broken. Was he truly the selfish bastard she all but said he was? Max couldnt help but think back over his life, and his marriage to Stephanie. Yes, she was certainly part of their problems, but had he ever truly stopped to think about his part in things? Had he ever once taken responsibility for some of the bad times?

Stephanie Holdridge had been one of his first girlfriends, and certainly his first serious one. First love. Hell, hed taken her virginity. Theyd been so happy for such a long time. Many, many years had gone by before hed begun to feel stifled and trapped. The hard part was, he loved his family. He loved Stephanie, and he adored his daughters. So, what had gone wrong? Which turn had he taken that was the wrong one, pointing him in the wrong direction?

Maxs thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the ringing phone. He grabbed the cordless, and couldnt help but smile when he saw Kathys number. Thoughts of the past were replaced with thoughts of an exciting night with the fiery redhead.

Clara wiped angrily at her tears, which she feared would freeze on her cheeks if she wasnt careful. The temperature outside was bitterly cold, and fresh snow had fallen the night before. The streets  regardless of the bad weather  were filled with traffic, people trying to get their last minute details worked out for the following days holiday feast.

She pulled her jacket closer to herself, zipping the coat with trembling hands. She cursed silently when she didnt find her gloves in the pockets, remembering shed tossed them on her chair when shed gotten in from school the day before. It was certainly days and times like this that she wished she had a car.

Clara had walked for more than twenty minutes when she saw the lights blazing in a small coffee shop, which shed never been to or even knew was there. Relieved to find a waded up ten dollar bill in her pants pocket, she headed inside.

The coffee shop was a typical one: scattered tables and an ordering area. She looked in the glass cases at the goodies displayed, though she didnt have much of an appetite for anything. She only wanted something hot, to warm her up from the inside out.

Can I help you? the girl behind the counter asked, a friendly smile on her face.

Clara ordered a large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, paid for it, then went to find herself a table where she could be by herself. She didnt fully trust her emotions at the moment, and didnt want to be around people, but didnt want to freeze to death outside, either. Going home at that moment wasnt an option even to consider.

Shedding her coat, she laid it across the back of her chair. She sat down, blowing on her red, chapped hands and rubbing them together. She sat in a corner across from the large, plate glass window. She watched the cars chug by, careful to keep enough distance between each other to avoid any possible weather-related accidents. Some braver souls walked along the sidewalks, bundled up like Randy in A Christmas Story. She smiled at that thought and image.

Hot chocolate, extra whipped cream?

Clara looked up at the clerk whod brought her drink to her, shocked to see Abby Jensen looking down at her. She had a nametag pinned to the dark green coffee shop polo, and a maroon apron tied around her waist.

Hey, she said, setting the cup down. Youre Kerris sister, arent you? Clara?

Clara nodded, unable to form words for a moment. She hadnt seen the blonde since Jasons funeral, nearly six months earlier, and felt at a loss for words. She felt stupid: there she was, on the verge of tears, half frozen, and unable to say a damn word.

Okay. Well, enjoy. Abby left her alone, walking back behind the counter, not giving her another look as she started on another customers drink order.

Clara let out a long breath, flopping her forehead down on the hard wood of the table, feeling like a complete idiot. I am a complete idiot, she muttered, finally pulling herself together and sipping at her drink. The inner warmth helped to clear her head a bit, enough to lose the Abby haze and get her thoughts back to why she was out in the Antarctic in the first place.

Her dad. Her mom. Thanksgiving.

Clara felt the emotions rise once again, and she tried her best to swallow them down. She wasnt entirely successful as she stared out the large window. She saw couples and families scurry by, laughing and talking. She felt an emptiness inside her that was like a black hole. She knew it was dramatic, but her fifteen year old mind couldnt help but wonder if her life would ever feel normal again. Would she ever have her family around her. Its amazing just how much is taken for granted in life. Nothing is ever missed until its gone.

Clara bit her lip as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She was mortified as a quiet sob escaped and she really began to cry. She felt like her world was in a state of flux, and it hurt.

Are you okay?

Clara looked up, mortified to see Abby standing next to her table, wiping her hands on a white towel, which she flicked to her shoulder once they were dry. Clara nodded, even as fresh tears began to flow. She didnt know what to think or say as the older girl sat in the chair next to hers, concern in her green eyes.

You dont look okay, Clara. Abby scooted her chair a bit closer, leaning in. Is everything okay? Did something happen?

Clara shook her head, snagging a napkin from the silver container on the table. She wiped her eyes and nose, shaking her head. No. Everyones fine. She looked down at her hand, which was clutched around the napkin. I think Im just being a baby, she managed with a watery smile.

About what?

Abbys soft voice and genuine concern brought fresh emotion to the surface. Tomorrow. My parents split. Clara let out a breath, wiping uselessly at the tears in her eyes, which just kept leaking out.

I cant imagine how hard this must be on you, Clara. I know Kerri has struggled with it, too.

She has?

Abby nodded. Sure. And dont tell her I said this or Ill have to kill you, Abby said with a smile, but she really had a hard time when you moved out, too.

Really? Clara was stunned to hear that.

Abby glanced over her shoulder and saw that a line had begun to form at the counter. Hey, I gotta go, but we close in thirty minutes. Ill give you a ride home. Without waiting for a response, Abby was up and headed back behind the counter.

Are you hungry? Abby asked, glancing over at her passenger as they drove away from the coffee shop.

Clara nodded, unable to look at the girl sitting next to her. She was so nervous! Her palms were sweating, even as she continually rubbed them on the thighs of her jeans. That TV dinner was gross, she said absently.

What?

Clara realized shed spoken out loud. She grinned, shaking her head. Never mind.

Okay. Well, where do you want to go? Our choices are limited because everything is closing up early for the holiday.

How about Burger King? Clara said, noting the fast food restaurant at the end of the block.

Burger King it is.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated with their food in front of them, tucked away in a corner booth to get away from the hungry, shopping crowds. Abby prepared her sandwich and squirted a healthy amount of ketchup on the wrapper for her fries. So tell me whats going on, she said, not looking at her dinner companion. What has you so upset tonight?

Clara had taken a bite of her whopper and chewed thoughtfully as she contemplated her answer. She tried to forget the fact that she was having dinner with Abigail Jensen, and tried to focus on the fact that Abby was trying to be nice, undoubtedly because Clara was Kerris sister. Otherwise, the popular older girl would never have given her a second glance, let alone share a whopper with her.

Clara blew out a breath and just began to talk. She figured things happen for a reason, and if Abby was willing to listen to her sob story, she might as well tell it and get it out. Maybe shed actually feel better in the end. My dad is dating some bimbo named Kathy, who I cant stand. He wanted me to go with him to her house for dinner tomorrow, and thats like no way! How the hell can he expect me to not spend Thanksgiving Day at my moms? I mean, come on! So, anyway, he was invited, but as usual, he lets his dick do the thinking for him, so hes not coming. Our first holiday since the split, and our family wont be together. I know what youre thinking, a split is a split, but still! You know? She didnt give Abby a chance to respond as she continued. And, then to top it all off, I have no money to buy Christmas presents, and I cant even buy something for my girlfriend cause my parents wont let me work at Cassandras shop until winter break. I mean, hello! Christmas will be over by then! And, speaking of my girlfriend, were having problems because I think theres only two things that shes interested in when it comes to me, she ticked them off on her fingers, sex and the dead.

Clara stopped herself, realizing what shed just said, what shed just admitted, and to whom. Oh shit. What would stop Abby from running straight to Kerri and telling her that her little sister was gay?

Abby blinked several times, trying to straighten out in her head everything that shed just been told in nearly one, long, breathless sentence. Okay, she said, let me try and piece this together. Youre hurt with your dad because hes dating someone you dont like. Youre also angry at him because you guys wont have a family holiday tomorrow, because he wants to spend the day with his new girlfriend, and even though he invited you, theres no way youre going to go. Youre hurt with him because the family is torn apart, and you blame him for it. Youre also angry because you have no money to buy gifts because your folks wont let you work for some lady, and then your girlfriend isnt being there for you. Did I get it all?

Clara stared at the blonde for a moment, unable to speak. She took a drink from her Coke to wash down her shock. Finally she nodded. Yeah, that about covers it.

Okay. Good. Abby wiped her mouth and got ready for a long discussion. Lets go through these an issue at a time, okay? At Claras nod she continued. Okay. Lets start with your parents and your dad, the split, all that. I think it can be handled in one, fell swoop.

Alright. Clara was nervous. How was she going to handle this business about just outing herself to one of her sisters best friends. Internally she cringed. She waited for Abby to speak, feeling like she was a damned prisoner, waiting on the chopping block.

Okay. Lets start with your parents marriage. What are your thoughts on it? I mean, when you look back, if you have to describe it in one word, what would that word be?

Clara wanted to say happy, but she knew that wasnt true. Well, not accurate, anyway. She gave it real thought, wanting to be completely honest with Abby. I guess Id have to say separate. She remembered so many times back in the past over the years where her mother would be either at a neighbors house, or by herself, and Max would be either spending time in his shop in the garage, or he and Clara would go do something. She knew they spent time together as a family during the weekends sometimes, but usually it was her father and her, and her mother and Kerri, almost like two different parties in one trip.

Why do you say that? Abby asked, munching on a ketchup-drown fry.

I dont know why I never saw that before, or thought it was odd, Clara said, absently playing with the straw in her drink. But they were. She met Abbys gaze. They didnt really spend much time together. If they did, it was still somehow like they werent really together. My mom would try, maybe make some sort of comment, trying to bind the family together. But, ultimately it was like it was me and my dad, and her and Kerri.

Do you think your mom was happy with that arrangement? Always trying to bring you guys together?

I doubt it, knowing her.

Okay, lets move on to something else real quick, and well circle back. You mentioned your girlfriend, and that theres a problem. Whats her name?

Um, Clara said quietly, almost like a frightened child. Id really rather not tell you that, if thats okay.

Abby stared at her for a moment, confused, but then understanding dawned in her eyes. Oh, okay. Well, however you want to play it, but Ill tell you this, Clara, Abby pointed at her with a fry, nothing that is said here is going anywhere beyond this table. So, you dont have to worry about me telling Kerri, if thats what youre worried about.

Clara smiled, a little sheepish. Yeah. Nobody knows.

And they wont find out from me.

Thanks, Abby. I really appreciate that. Clara took a deep breath a leap of faith. Erica.

Okay. Erica. So, as I was saying. Youre having problems with Erica, saying that she only wants to take from you, and obviously not give you what you need from her.

How do you know that? Clara asked, knowing that she hadnt made it all that clear in her babbling.

Well, if she was, wouldnt you be sitting here having this conversation with her and not me? Abby asked with a raised brow.

Oh. Yeah, I guess so, Clara said, seeing the logic.

Okay, so tell me more about the problems with her. What isnt Erica giving you?

Clara sighed, tossing the wadded up paper that had once protected her straw. I dont know, exactly. I mean, when I first met her, it was amazing and exciting. Someone wanted me. That blew my mind. And then we

well, you know, and now its like thats all she wants from me. That or to bring me into her weird world of the dead. Abby, she has no respect for the spirit world at all. None! She thinks its some sort of weird game, or like its taboo to mess with it, or something. Im not comfortable with it.

What arent you comfortable with? Abby asked, confused. Dont you dabble in that stuff, yourself?

I dont dabble, she said, unable to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. This came to me, not the other way around. I take it very seriously. Its no game.

Abby was surprised by the intensity in Claras eyes. Im sorry, Clara. I didnt mean to offend. Just trying to understand.

Its okay. Im sorry. I dont mean to preach. I think it boils down to Erica has this weird fascination with anything macabre, and saw me as the perfect conduit to that world. She sighed again, shoulders slumped. Sometimes I wonder if she even likes me for me at all.

Im really sorry, Clara. I know what thats like. Abby smiled with understanding. Okay, so now youve got that out, tell me this: youre unhappy in your relationship with Erica. She doesnt give you the support you need for your gifts, or seem to have any other purpose for being in a relationship with you. Right?

Right, Clara drawled, not entirely sure where the conversation was going.

Okay, so can you imagine staying in this thing with her throughout the rest of high school? Thats another three and a half years, Clara. Can you see it?

Clara immediately shook her head. God, no. Not the way it is now. Not a chance.

Okay, so  forgive me, because Im not entirely sure how this works with girls, so Im going to have to go with what I know  I imagine that at one time Erica was all you thought about. The only girl in the world for you, right?

Clara blushed and looked away. The only girl except for you. Right, she muttered.

Now, that youre unhappy, do you find yourself looking at other girls? Wondering what it would be like to be with them?

Clara was beginning to catch on to where Abby was going. She nodded. Yeah. Okay, I see your point. Youre saying that where Im at is where my dad was with my mom. He was unhappy for whatever reason, and so instead of basically settling in his unhappiness, he had to get out. Well, he moved on before he got out, really.

Yeah. I heard about that, and Im really sorry, Clara. But, yes. Thats what happened with your dad. Hes moved on, trying to find his own happiness, and hes hoping that this new girlfriend might give it to him.

I see your point, but he had two kids, Abby. Doesnt he care? Doesnt he care what its doing to us? Clara asked, emotion beginning to rise again. She tried to quickly swallow it down.

Of course he cares! Abby said, her gaze boring into Claras trying to make the younger girl understand. If he didnt care, do you really think he would have let you move in with him? Do you think he would be sticking around? Hell, Clara, this was his escape! It was his chance to move on and leave the unhappiness behind. She paused, waiting for Clara to reign in her emotions, which she was making a valiant effort of doing. Give him a chance. He loves you and Kerri, and I bet he loves your mom, too. He just wasnt happy where he was, and by him being unhappy, he was making everyone unhappy. You may not realize it right now, but he actually did all of you a favor by leaving.

I remember how hurt my mom was, knowing that when he was out late, what he was doing. That he was lying to her.

Exactly. Now your mom can also move on, and try and find her happiness, too.

Clara wiped away a few stray tears that had managed to find their way to her cheeks. She smiled through her tears. I hate it when people make sense like this.

Abby grinned, taking a drink from her Coke. I try not to do it too often, but sometimes Im just brilliant that way.

Clara laughed, and it felt really good. You know, the funny thing is, my dad told me that Id never really be able to understand until I was in a relationship of my own.

And he was right. Nothing is as black and white as it seems, Clara. Nothing. She loaded all her dinner trash onto the tray. I should get you home. She scooted out of the booth and dumped the tray, refilling her drink before returning to the table, where Clara sat, looking exhausted. As for tomorrow, I know it hurts, but give your dad some slack. He wants you with him, but you made the choice to go to your moms. She bent down just enough to catch Claras gaze. Give him credit for that. Okay?

Clara nodded, again trying to hold her tears in.

Come here.

Clara was tugged to her feet by her hand, only to find herself engulfed in a warm hug. She couldnt resist and laid her head down on Abbys shoulder, her eyes closing as the blondes scent filled her soul. Nothing had ever felt as right as getting a hug from Abby Jensen.

Abby pulled away after a long moment. Are you okay?

Clara nodded. Yes. Thank you so much. This really meant a lot to me tonight, you listening to me and talking to me like this.

Sure. Any time.

Chapter 18

1992

Clara grunted as she tried to hold up the glass shelving, Cassandra working as quickly as she could to bolt it into place.

Okay. I think you can let it go, Cassandra said, taking a slight step back, looking from one end to the other.

Clara slowly began to remove her hands, but then felt the entire thing about to go. She quickly put her hands back under it. Or not.

Shit! Sorry, Clara. Cassandra immediately went to work to try and secure the new shelving that had just arrived that morning. Within a few moments it was secured and both stood back, checking out their handiwork. Not bad, kiddo. Cassandra gave her employee a one-armed hug. Looks good.

Yeah. Those new candles will look great there. Clara began to gather up the packaging the shelving had come in, crushing it all into a compact bundle that shed take out with the rest of the trash at closing time, which was in twenty minutes.

I agree.

Clara headed to the back room to start closing procedures. Shed been working at The Pagan for three months, and loved it! She had been working mainly day shifts, as she started working on weekends, but her dad had given her permission to work two nights a week after school. Cassandra was teaching her how to close up shop. Clara suspected that fairly soon she would be left to work the shop alone. She knew Cassandra was looking forward to actually having time off.

The trash all gathered, Clara pushed opened the back door to the store, which led into the alley where the trash bin was. With a grunt, she heaved the bag and boxes into the huge, metal container. She was wiping her hands on her jeans when Ericas 4Runner pulled up. Clara groaned internally, but waited.

Hey, Erica said, climbing out of the SUV. She walked up to Clara, her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans. She only wore a light jacket, the March air hinting at the coming warmer weather.

Hi, Erica. Clara waited until her ex reached her. After her talk with Abby, Clara gave things a lot of thought, and decided that Erica wasnt what she wanted. The sex was great, but it wasnt everything. At least not like it was to Erica. She wanted someone she could talk to, could share things with, and who would try and understand her. Not change her.

Hows it going? Erica nodded towards the back of the shop, bringing up a hand to brush some dark strands of hair out of her eyes.

Good. That new shelving finally came in.

Cool. Well, I was just coming by to pick up Cassandra. Is she finished yet?

No. We just started closing the place up. Those shelves took us forever to install.

Erica nodded, then chewed on her lower lip for a moment, trying to decide whether to say what was on her mind or not. Finally she blew out a breath. I really miss you, Clara. She ran a hand through her hair. A lot. Im sorry for how things went.

Clara felt a slight tug in Ericas direction, but then quickly shoved it aside. She knew Erica wasnt in her future. Not in the way she had been in her past. Im sorry, too.

Well, Erica said, feeling slightly uncomfortable and surprised. She had hoped that her simple declaration would give her some idea that Clara wanted to get back together, but it was more than obvious that wasnt the case. Ill see you around.

Clara watched her enter through the back door of the store, leaving her alone in the alley. She blew out a loud breath, feeling somewhat bad. Finishing her task, she headed back in the store, knowing that she couldnt do what she wanted to do, which was just walk out the alleyway and head home. She had to stay and finish helping Cassandra.

Erica was reclining in the back office as Clara replaced the trashcan in there, and Cassandra was talking to a last-minute customer who had come in while she was outside. Clara wondered out to the main room of the store  not wanting to stay in the back with Erica  and began to clean up.

So, you think the amethyst will help? the woman asked, holding up a large, purple stone that Cassandra had removed from the glass counter-top case.

It should. The purpose of the amethyst is to help bring peace to the home, Cassandra explained.

Clara wasnt paying them any attention as she straightened the gift cards theyd begun to carry, but which people felt a strange need to destroy. Suddenly she had the image of a race car in her head, zooming around and around an oval track. She pushed the image away, continuing her task but it came back, followed by the sight of a blue bicycle. She stopped what she was doing and focused on the image. One thing shed learned over the last several months was when an image wouldnt go away, and she knew it wasnt anything that registered in her own personal life, it typically meant she was picking up on something, or getting a message.

She turned to look at the two women at the counter, the race car in her head again. She looked at Cassandra, who was still talking about the power of stones and crystals, and somehow it just didnt feel right. When she turned her attention on the other woman, the image stopped, the race car almost parking itself directly in front of her minds eye. She clearly see the colorful details on the car, including a bright yellow number 14.

Clearing her throat, Clara walked over to the women. Excuse me, she said to the customer, Im sorry to interrupt, but does a race car mean anything to you?

The woman looked at her, the polite smile shed worn at the interruption sliding off her face. Excuse me?

A race car. Number 14. And a blue bicycle. Another image popped into her head: a little boy, maybe six or seven, was riding the blue bicycle round and round a fire hydrant. I feel drawn to you. That this information is for you. A little boy is riding a blue bicycle. She smiled at the image, amused. He keeps riding circles around a yellow fire hydrant.

How do you know about Lewis? the woman asked, a hand to her chest.

I dont.

Shes a Medium, Margaret, Cassandra said softly to the woman.

The woman named Margaret looked from the shop owner then back to Clara. Yes. Lewis had a blue bicycle, and the fire hydrant was just down the street from our house.

Did he used to play with a race car that was blue, yellow and purple? With a number 14 on the door and hood? Maybe like a matchbox car, or something?

The woman took a deep breath, seeming to try and get her balance back. No. But I think I know what that means.

Before the woman could explain further, she had another image. Lewis was leaving the fire hydrant, and about to head across a residential intersection on his bike. The race car image came again, the car tires screeching to life, smoke left in their wake as the car shot off. Clara had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Lewis was struck by a speeding car. He was killed.

Oh, Margaret, I didnt know, Cassandra said, placing a consoling hand on the womans arm.

It was a long time ago, she said softly.

What about the number fourteen? Clara asked, unsure if it had significance, or if it was just simply part of the image. The number was so bright, though, she felt it had something to do with it.

It happened fourteen years ago. The woman thought for a moment, a bright, albeit sad, smile gracing her lips. Lewis would be twenty-two today. Today is his birthday.

Clara felt like shed just been struck in the head with a brick, shocked.

Oh, Margaret! Cassandra exclaimed, her hands to her mouth. Thats wonderful! Maybe hes trying to tell you hello.

Clara noted that even Erica had come out to see what was happening, but that was soon interrupted by more images. Im seeing some sort of flower, she said, closing her eyes to see the image better. Like a dandelion, maybe? She was brought out of her concentration by the sound of a soft cry. She looked at the woman to see that she was on the verge of tears.

He used to pick those for me all the time and bring them to me, she whispered, unable to take her eyes off Clara.

Clara smiled, understanding filling her. Hes saying hello and that he loves you. She heard something: I love you, Momma. I love you, Momma, I just heard.

Margaret was crying now, Cassandra had moved around the counter to stand next to her customer, an arm around her waist for support. Is he okay? Is he happy?

Clara smiled. Oh, yes. She chuckled as she suddenly saw an image of a little boy running and playing. He stopped for a moment, gave her an enthusiastic wave, then faded. Very much so. The energy gone, Clara focused on Lewis mother. He doesnt want you to worry or be sad anymore.

Margaret hurried over to Clara, giving her a huge hug. Oh, thank you, honey, she murmured before pulling away, a smile on her tear-streaked face. That was incredible, and it means the world to me that my baby came to me on his birthday. Thank you.

Youre very welcome. Im glad I could help.

With a few quiet words, Margaret bought the stones she wanted, then with a warm smile, left the shop. Clara felt eyes on her and turned to see both Cassandra and Erica staring at her, mouths open.

What?

She wasnt sure how it happened, but the next thing Clara knew, she was holding weekly readings at The Pagan, sometimes two or three a week, depending. The most crazy part was that she was being paid to do it. There she was, almost 16 years old, sitting at a table behind a newly curtained off area, her client sitting across from her, either great expectation or total skepticism on their face.

Before every reading, whether it was a scheduled one or simply someone who had wandered into the shop who wanted one, Clara felt nauseous. What if she was wrong? What if nothing came to her? What if the person thought she was a quack? Not only that, but a lot of times, it was emotionally taxing on her. Not only did she see images, hear voices  and sometimes the spirit standing in the corner  but shed also feel what they were feeling. Theyd get their message through to her via their emotional state at the time of a traumatic event, or shed actually feel the physical pain of whatever had happened to them. The worse was when a grandfather, who had committed suicide, explained what had happened by a sudden, and very sharp pain in Claras temple. It was disturbing, and sometimes downright creepy.

Clara enjoyed the readings, as it felt like a part of her had been completed, somehow. Like she was beginning to do what shed been born to do. The downside was, word had begun to spread through the small town she lived in, and inevitably to her school.

She walked down the halls, ready for the year to be over with, which would be in six weeks. Kerri would be graduating from South High in two weeks. She hefted her backpack higher onto her shoulder, headed to her last  and favorite  class of the day, Mr. Estratas English class. English wasnt a particularly favorite subject of hers, but she loved the way her teacher went about it, his passion for the subject coming through in every lesson. So, though he couldnt make her any better at English than she already was, he at least made her have an appreciation for it, and for reading.

She saw a group of upper classmen boys walking towards her, and didnt give it another thought until she found herself shoved into a row of lockers she was passing.

Outta the way you fuckin dyke witch! one of them said, his friends laughing and tossing high-fives through the group.

Saying nothing, Clara took several deep breaths and gathered her courage, forcing herself t continue on her way to class. She was beginning to hate school, and most of her peers. Every day somebody said something, either about her being a dyke or lezbo or about her abilities as a Medium. A few would actually take the time to ask her about it, out of curiosity and not fear or spite.

She sighed heavily, glad the day was almost over.

Clara? Alex Estrata said, erasing the chalkboard after class had ended. Hed barely caught his favorite student before she made her way with the flow of her peers that were pouring out into the hall.

Clara battled her way upstream until she was back in the classroom. Whats up?

Ive heard a lot about you, lately, Alex said, leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. Congratulations, Clara. Sounds like youre finally able to use your gift for the good of others.

Clara grinned, an aw shucks moment for her. Thanks, Mr. Estrata. I love it, but some people here arent too thrilled.

The teacher waved her words off. What do they know? This is a short time of your life, Clara. Youll have many, many years ahead of you where youll help people, and theyll respect and understand your gift.

Do you think so?

Alex nodded. I do. Thats why I asked you to say behind. I thought you might like to know that an investigation has finally been opened into Debs death. I cant talk much about it, but I think I know who Deb showed you in your vision.

Oh, Mr. Estrata, thats awesome! Clara was immediately giddy with excitement. Please let me know how it goes. I really hope that your wife can finally find some peace.

Alex nodded with a smile. Me, too.

Clara slapped her teacher affectionately on the arm and turned to leave. Oh, Alex? she said, glancing at him from over her shoulder. Did you ever find your keys?

The English teacher grinned. They were in my sons toy box. Just like you said.

Chapter 19

1995

Clara kept her patience, letting her mother fuss over her. After all, it was her day. Well, her day and three hundred and ten of her fellow classmates, anyway. She would be graduating from John Freed High School at long last! She never thought it would come, and never thought shed get out of school.

Okay, are you ready for your mortarboard? Stephanie asked, unable to believe that her baby was graduating!

No, not yet. Ill just carry it with me for now. Clara looked down at herself, secretly very pleased to see the gold gown she wore, the sunlight making it shine.

Okay. Stephanie was nearly beside herself, so proud of Clara. She would never tell her youngest, but she and Max had talked about it over the past four years, whether Clara would graduate or not. She hated school, though she was so intelligent. They never truly understood what the problem was, and Clara had never much been open to it. It had been beyond a fight to get her to register for college classes in the fall.

I think you guys are supposed to be lining up, Kerri said, indicating a woman who was trying to get the seniors  boys in green, girls in gold  in order for the march inside the stadium.

Oh. Okay. Stephanie gave her daughter one final hug and a kiss on the cheek, careful not to leave a lipstick smudge. Max stood back, videotaping the entire thing. The smile of pride wouldnt leave his face.

Clara was nervous as she hurried to join her fellow classmates. She couldnt believe the day had finally come, and was beyond excited. Even so, she knew this momentous occasion meant something bigger: real life. Well, almost. Shed be heading to college in the fall, though she looked forward to that almost as much as she looked forward to her period each month.

Family and friends had gathered at Stephanies house, where tables had been set up in the backyard, loaded with food. People stood around with plastic plates balanced on their hand, talking as they ate. Clara wasnt entirely sure who everyone was, so just figured they must be cousins or something. She wasnt all that close to her family outside the family circle of her parents, Kerri and her grandparents. She knew her mother had invited them so that maybe their monetary gifts would help Clara on the next stage of her life.

Did you find the coleslaw? Stephanie asked, working shoulder to shoulder with Max to try and make their youngests day as special as possible.

Yeah, it was behind the pickles. Max tore into another package of raw meat patties, then get them going on the grill. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing affectionately. He couldnt help but smile, but then turned with surprise to see that Florence had walked up to him. Hey.

Hi. Looks good, his newest girlfriend said, eyeing the plate full of grilled burgers.

Thanks.

Florence walked away, her hips swaying in the denim shorts she wore. He tore his eyes off them and turned to speak to Stephanie, but she was nowhere to be found.

So, I was thinking, Kerri said, sitting on a blanket under the huge cottonwood tree in the backyard. The same one that she and Clara used to play on all the time when they were kids. The same one that Jason fell out of when they were ten.

Thats a scary thought, Clara muttered, having just joined her sister and Kerris long-time boyfriend, Zane.

I know. Youd better run, he snickered, getting a playful backhand to his stomach.

Since there isnt a kitchen or anything like it in the attic apartment, why dont you just use ours? She turned to her sister, taking a bite out of her hotdog as she waited for Claras response.

Clara glanced at her, uneasy at the sudden generosity. Are you sure? I dont want to encroach



Dont be silly. Trust me, Clara, once youre in college, you wont be able to afford to eat out all the time. Youll need a kitchen. Ive been there. Let me help you out.

Clara stared at her for along moment, finally drawling, Okay.

The deal had been made that if Clara would go to college, she could move out. She wasnt all that keen on living in the dorms, and Kerri and Zane had managed to find an old Victorian with a small attic apartment. Clara would live in the apartment, rent free, as long as she helped out in the massive, quarter acre yard.

Clara was still trying to understand how the whole sister thing worked. Ever since theyd been children theyd never gotten along, both girls far too different to even live in the same house, let alone the same planet. But, something happened over the past couple years. Once Kerri got into college  which shed graduate from six months early, the following winter  they had formed some sort of bond.

She had no fantasies of them ever being close, or best friends, but was glad that they had reached some sort of silent understanding: yes, Kerri was older, should always be older, and therefore she had the right to boss Clara around at will. The flip side of that coin was that: yes, Clara was younger, would always be young, but was a human being with a brain and a purpose, other than to stuff into trash bins.

Hey, guys. Were ready to cut the cake, Max said, strolling over to the three sitting under the tree. He reached down to help Clara up as Zane did the same for Kerri. Come on, kiddo. He swung an arm over her shoulders, holding her to his side as they walked toward the patio where Stephanie was busy placing and lighting candles into the huge sheet cake. A smiling picture of a smiling, gap-toothed nine year old Clara was done in rice paper on top.

Clara held onto her fathers waist, which shed noticed had slimmed down considerably since he wasnt eating her mothers home cooked meals anymore. The other women that had come and go in his life over the past four years had gone sooner than theyd been kept around. Clara never understood that.

Um, Mom? Clara said, watching as her mother lit the last candle, twelve in all. its not my birthday. I only graduated from high school.

Only? Stephanie said, hands on hips. You accomplished something, sweetie, and I wanted to give you all the luck I can. There are twelve candles here, one for every year of school youve been in so far. She smiled, proud of herself. Make a wish!

Clara decided to play along, scanning the rooms of her brain for what she wanted most. She leaned over, holding her newly-grown out hair out of the way, and blew out all the candles. The gathered guests clapped.

The party was a success, Clara walking away with just over two hundred dollars and lots of well wishes. Everyone had gone home, Max and the girls helping to clean up. Florence had gone home almost an hour before, irritated that Max wanted to help.

He sat on the front stoop of the house that he hadnt lived at in four years. Hed been there hundreds of times for various occasions, never again missing a holiday after the first year, when Clara had been so upset at him. He took a drag from his cigarette, blowing the exhale out into the early evening of a warm, summer night. He sat on the front stoop, feet spread, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers between his knees.

The moon was beginning to show itself over the roof of the neighbors house across the street. Max watched it, its bright yellow color and size indicative of the harvest moon it would become. He felt a certain level of peace as he sat there, for the first time in long time, a feeling of family love around him. He still couldnt believe that both of his daughters had now graduated high school  one graduating college in December. Where had the time gone? Had he been everything they needed him to be, or had he failed them, the way hed failed their mother?

Maxs thoughts were interrupted when the front screen door opened, then softly closed. The person who had entered his solace sat on the stoop next to him, taking his beer from his fingers and taking a quick swig before giving it back.

Good stuff, Clara said, looking out over the falling night.

That it is. Max took one final drag of the cigarette, swallowed the last of his beer and tossed the cigarette butt inside. The cherry fizzled in the tiny bit of liquid at the bottom of the brown glass bottle. You got everything packed? he asked, unable to look at his daughter. Theyd been a team  through good and bad  for four years. He couldnt imagine his life  or his house  without her.

Yeah. Clara was silent for a long moment, her thoughts running very much along the lines of her fathers. She was filled with a strange mixture of elation and loss. Guess youll finally get to have that home office you always wanted, she said, playfully bumping his shoulder with her own.

Goodie, Max smiled, no real enthusiasm behind it.

Clara looked at her father, gazing into his sad eyes. Dad, Ill be back. I promise.

He nodded. I know you will, sweetpea. I just hate seeing you go. All grown up, now. He looked at her, taking in the breathtaking young woman shed turned into. No matter what happens  you and Kerri get into it, whatever  youve got a place to come back to. He looked into her eyes, making sure she was really hearing him. Okay?

Clara nodded, a sudden lump forming in her throat. Okay. Her voice had become that of the child Max used to hold in his arms. She lost control of her emotions when she saw tears glisten in his eyes.

Come ere, he murmured, pulling her against him in a one-armed hug. They sat in silence for a long moment, just absorbing the warmth and love of the other. Together they watched the sun set.

Clara never thought it would be scary to have her own apartment. To move to a place where neither her father nor her mother lived. It helped immensely to know that Kerri and Zane were two floors below, but still

She sat on her bed, looking around the space. It was actually a really nice  albeit small  apartment. It was essentially a studio apartment, everything in the larger, main space, while the bathroom had been partitioned off for privacy. She had everything there that she owned: all her clothing, her minimal movie collection, and her CDs and stereo, a gift for graduation.

A few movie posters were tacked to the slanted ceiling by the two windows that allowed minimal light into the space. All her clothes were neatly tucked away in the dresser set her mother had bought for her, as well as the simply closet space her father had built in the corner. She was set.

She flopped back onto the comforter, hands above her head as she stared up at the ceiling, not really seeing the plaster and paint, but instead a future that was yet to be determined. She new the future her parents wanted for her: for her to go to college, do her best, and earn her degree, just as Kerri was doing. Max had worked for the garbage company for more years than Clara could remember, and Stephanie had been at the bakery for almost four years. Both her parents wanted more for their daughters than the hard, day-to-day life of someone uneducated.

Clara understood and respected that, but she just wished they understood and respected what she wanted, and whatshe knew of her future. She knew her future didnt lie in the corporate world, or as some big wig in business. Her place in the world was to help people through her gifts. Her family refused to see this, worried that shed never be able to make a living at it. Clara understood their fears, as she had the same fears herself. Even so, she was drawn.

Clara sighed heavily, glancing over at the backpack  already loaded with books bought for her upcoming semester  that sat on the floor by the wall. She didnt look forward to her college career, at all. Yet another way she and Kerri were complete opposites. One of Kerris first words had been college.

Shit, she blew out. I dread this.

Chapter 20

The campus of State was huge; much, much larger than John Freed High School, for certain. It had taken Clara several weeks to truly get her bearings in the place. Nearly through her first six weeks in college, she had found all her hang out and hide out spots. One of which, she was currently sitting in.

On the fifth floor of the library, which was a study floor with a few stacks of books, Clara sat in a cubby at the back of the large room, reading. In truth, she was peering over the top of her text at the girl who was shelving books. Shed noticed Shelby the first week of classes, and hadnt been able to take her eyes off her since. Short blonde hair, cut in a sporty style, and smiling blue eyes. Dimples teased every time she spoke or smiled, which was often. She was adorable. She seemed to have a natural glow about her that drew Clara in like a bug to the zapper.

Clara had no idea what year Shelby was, or what she was taking. Shed never so much as spoken to her, but she had figured out what her work schedule typically was, and made sure to be on the fifth floor Tuesday nights. Thus, she was tucked away, watching.

Shelby pulled a two-level metal cart with her, books set in two neat rows on top and on the lower shelf. She took her time, reading the Library of Congress code on the lower spine then finding the correct location of the book before moving on to the next.

She wore black mesh shorts and a tank top. Her tanned skin looked pale and sickly under the fluorescent lights, but Clara had seen her on campus under the bright sun. She was stunning, her arms and legs well-toned, as though Shelby had played soccer or volleyball, or some other sport, for many years. Claras eyes followed the movement of her body, her stomach awash with nervous butterflies of excitement.

Shelby pushed her cart toward the cubby where Clara sat, making Clara want to vomit with anxiety. She turned her attention back to her book, though she couldnt recall a single thing shed read on the page shed been on for the past twenty-seven minutes. She had been trying to figure out a good way to talk to the blonde for six weeks, but had no idea what to say, or how to go about it. Sometimes  most times  she cursed her quiet nature.

Clara snuck a peek over her book, only to find herself meeting Shelbys gaze. She gave the girl a quick smile of acknowledgement, then went to bury her nose back into her book, but stopped. Sitting at the table Shelby was about to pass was a woman, her gaze locked onto Shelby. Clara looked from the library worker to the woman, but the woman had vanished.

Hows it going? Shelby asked politely as she began to push her cart past Clara.

Fine. Um, hey, Clara felt a bit devilish as she realized the woman shed seen was a perfect segue into conversation with the gorgeous blonde. Do you believe in psychics and Mediums?

Shelby stopped, her brows drawn in confusion. What?

Clara opened herself up, reaching out towards the spirit of the woman whom she knew was still with them. She could feel her energy, and it was close to Shelby. You know, people who speak to spirits.

Shelby stopped, one hand resting on her cart, the other on her hip. I guess. Why?

Clara had to stop herself from grinning, proud of herself for taking advantage of the opportunity. Well, there was a woman sitting over at that table, she nodded towards the one in question, Shelby glancing over her shoulder to see it was empty. She was looking at you, and I feel strongly shes here for you.

Shelby looked at Clara, looking as though she werent sure whether to tell Clara to go fly a kite, or to ask for more information. Okay, she said slowly, waiting for Clara to continue.

Clara listened for a moment, nodding slightly at the information shed just heard in her mind. She also saw the woman again, this time standing just on the other side of Shelbys cart. Im sensing a mother-figure. Has your mom crossed? Shelby nodded, but said nothing. About this tall, she held up a hand to just a wee shorter than herself, blonde hair, longer than yours. And, Clara looked at the woman, watching as the older blonde opened her shirt just enough to bare her upper chest and an ugly scar that ran the length across from her right collarbone across her heart, and disappearing into the shirt. And a really bad scar. Clara used her finger to draw an imaginary scar across her own chest.

Shelby could only stare, her blue eyes wide. Who are you? she asked, about to run in the opposite direction.

Clara could tell the blonde was getting more and more skittish. Im sorry. Im not trying to freak you out. Its just that, when they come to me, I feel kind of obligated to pass on the message, you know?

Shelby nodded, rattled. Alright. So, whats the message?

Clara glanced back over to the woman, Shelby following her gaze, baffled to see just empty space. Clara could see the womans lips moving, but the words came to her in her own mind. Okay, she murmured, nodding. She turned to Shelby. She said to tell you that it wasnt your fault that she passed. Does that make sense? Shes saying that it would have happened whether youd hit it or not. Claras brows drew, not understanding, but simply repeating.

Shelby apparently understood, as her hand flew to her mouth, a soft sob escaping her throat. Oh, god, she whispered.

She also says that she knows about the thumb.

Tears began to fall down Shelbys cheeks.

Aw, jeez. Im sorry. Clara rifled in her backpack, finding a travel-size pack of Kleenex. She handed them to the blonde. I didnt mean to make you cry. What she had viewed as a great way to pick up a woman a few moments ago now made her feel terrible!

No, no! Shelby exclaimed, wiping at her eyes and laughing nervously. This is amazing. She glanced over to where Clara had been staring. Is she here still, or something?

Clara nodded. Yeah. Shes standing about four feet away from you.

Shelby looked at the spot, trying desperately to catch a glimpse, but it was impossible. She looked away, instead studying the wadded up Kleenex in her hand. Does she say anything else?

Clara glanced over to the woman, sad to see she was beginning to fade, though her lips were moving again. She said she loves you and Monkey. Dont forget about her, but she said you need to move on with your life, too.

Shelbys eyes got huge. Theres no possible way you could know about Monkey, she said, looking at Clara with almost accusing eyes. How do you know this stuff?

Clara shrugged. I just repeat what Im told or shown.

Wow. Shelby blew out a long breath, wiping her face and blowing her nose. She took a moment to get herself together, Clara remaining quiet to give her time. That woman was my mother, Shelby began to explain softly, her focus once again on the Kleenex in her hands. Lucy. She died last year from breast cancer. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the emotions down that insisted on rising. She was really sick, and I was driving her to the hospital. We got stuck in traffic, and um

 She looked up at the ceiling, her blue eyes vibrant from unshed tears. She cleared her throat, trying to get herself under control. She died before we got there.

Oh, wow, Clara whispered, shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts so she wouldnt reach out to Shelby and comfort her. Shed already freaked her out enough for one day. Um, she said, feeling rather sheepish. Can I ask you who Monkey is?

Shelby let out a bark of nervous laughter. My dog. He was actually hers, but Monkey and I kind of had a love-at-first-sight moment, so she let me take him with me.

Clara smiled, amused. Well, I truly am sorry for making you cry, but I hope it helped. She obviously needed to talk to you, or you needed to hear from her.

Shelby leaned back on the table behind her, needing the sturdy support. Ive been thinking about her a lot, lately. The year anniversary is coming up next month.

Ouch.

Yeah. So, she shrugged, a smile on her lips. Guess I really did need that. Thank you

?

Clara.

Thank you, Clara. That was really amazing, even if it was a little freaky.

Clara was amused. Yeah, well, what can I say?

Have you been doing this for a long time? Talking to dead people, I mean?

Clara nodded. Since I was a kid.

Wow. Shelby sat on the table for a moment, her head finally shaking slowly side to side. Wow. She hopped up off the table and walked over to her book cart. I need to get these finished before I close up the library for the night. She put a hand on the cart, about to start pushing it when she thought better of it. She moved over to Clara, taking her in a tight, and all too quick embrace. Thank you, Cara.

Clara hugged her back, releasing her as soon as Shelby showed signs of letting go. She smiled as she met her gaze once they parted. Youre welcome. Im glad I could help.

You really did. She took hold of her cart. Ill see you around, Clara. She left with a brilliant smile, disappearing into the stacks.

Clara tried not to react to the shiver that traveled down her spine at the smile shed just received, coupled with the memory of the feel of Shelbys body against hers. After shed broken up with Erica during the second semester of her Freshman year, Clara hadnt bothered to date. Shed concentrated most of her energy into The Pagan  which she still worked at  and honing her gift. She didnt have time for love, or for school work, for that matter.

She sighed as she watched the last of Shelby disappear. How wonderful it would be to feel that body again. She gathered her things together, noting that the library would be closing in forty-five minutes, anyway. She heaved her backpack on her shoulder and headed for the elevators.

Clara ignored the couple who were eating dinner on the couch. She kept her place in the Laz-E-Boy chair in the corner, her gaze on the TV, listening to Peter Jennings as he rattled off the nightly news.

Hey, Clara, how did you do on your paper? Zane asked, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti in his mouth. A noodle and sauce fell onto his chin. Kerri rolled her eyes as he wiped it off on the sleeve of his shirt.

Youre doing laundry next, she stated dryly.

I did good. Clara turned to face her sisters boyfriend, a sweet smile plastered on her face. So how many of my first born would I have to sacrifice to have you write all my papers this semester?

Zane looked her in the eye. You couldnt breed enough for that, kid.

Damn. Clara turned back to the TV, only to have her sister grab her attention. What?

What time is Tory coming over? Kerri asked, setting her plate aside and wiping her mouth on the napkin in her lap.

Clara glanced at her. Any time. Though Kerri had stopped calling her a freak long ago, theyd never talked about her abilities. Kerri certainly had not requested them before, so shed been stunned when Kerri had asked if shed do a reading for one of her co-workers at the hospital, where Kerri was working while finishing up her nursing education. Zane rolled his eyes, getting up to put his dish and Kerris in the kitchen.

Crazy-ass voodoo shit, he muttered as he walked by.

Clara ignored him. Where do you want me to do it? Want me to take her up to my room? she asked, nodding in the direction where Zane had just disappeared. Dont want him to be uncomfortable.

Eh, hell survive, Kerri said, waving off her boyfriends attitude, which was even worse than Stephanies had been for most of Claras life. Shed never spoken with him about it, and hadnt exposed him to much of what her sister was capable of, either.

Okay, Clara said skeptically, finishing her dinner.

Tory Amberson arrived fifteen minutes later, nervous about getting her first reading with a Medium, but open-minded, and apparently needing something from Clara. Clara wouldnt allow her to give her any information about whom she wished to connect with, instead just letting the threads of information come to her naturally.

They sat in the front room of the Victorian, Tory sitting anxiously on the couch while Clara perched casually in the window seat, eyes closed as she took in several deep breaths, trying to open herself up for the connection that she could feel was beginning to come. She could feel energy beginning to gather around her, the coolness touching her leg. It was male energy, that much she could tell, and told Tory as much. She couldnt quite make anything out about him, and asked silently if hed give her some sort of clue as to his age at death.

Okay, Clara finally said, hes showing me baggy jeans. A flannel shirt

 her voice trailed off as she tried to focus in on the image in her brain. Long hair. A younger man. Twenties, maybe?

Tory nodded, trying to hold in any reactions, as she still wasnt entirely a believer, yet. Not to mention, part of her was hoping Clara would truly be gifted, and part of her hoped she was a fraud. She was only there because her mother needed some answers, anyway.

Im seeing a

something silver. Clara tried to focus harder on the object that glittered in front of her minds eye. A keychain. Shaped like a skull.

Sapphire eyes? Tory asked, her heart beginning to pound.

Clara nodded. Yes. It says Brandon on it.

Oh my god, Tory gasped. Clara met her shocked gaze. Thats my brother.

Is that who you were wanting to connect with today? At Torys nod, Clara continued. Her brows drew as she could feel Brandons energy even stronger. Im feeling something very, very negative around him, she explained, shivering slightly. She couldnt see Brandon very clearly anymore  some spirits stuck around in a visual sense, others preferred to identify themselves only once, then disappeared again  but she could feel him intensely. And it was incredibly unsettling.

Tory was shocked, but still wanted more confirmation that it was, in fact, her brother. Can you maybe tell me a little more? About him, I mean.

Clara nodded, amused. She never blamed her clients for their skepticism. She turned inward, focusing back on Brandon again, mentally asking him to give her more information about him. She gasped, a snapshot entering her head that chilled her blood. She saw two figures  neither in clear focus  in a struggle, then the echoing BOOM of a gunshot reverberated in her mind. At first she thought that perhaps Brandon was showing her how hed died, but somehow that didnt feel right. She then saw his eyes: black as night, and threatening to stare a hole in her. She shivered again.

What is it? Tory asked, her heart beginning to pound again. Clara had gone pale, and Tory couldnt help but wonder if she knew why.

Um, Clara said, clearing her throat and trying to get the chill out of her spine. Was Brandon part of something

 she was trying to decide the most tactful way to say it. Thinking of none, she just blurted out what shed seen. Was he part of a murder? A shooting death?

Tory stared at her, mouth hanging open. Kerri, who had been asked by Tory to witness the reading, stared slack-jawed from her sister to her friend and back to her sister. She knew the details of Torys familys history, and couldnt believe Clara had picked up on it.

Yes. He was. He-

Clara cut her off. No details, please. It makes it more difficult to do this if I know stuff beforehand.

Okay. Sorry. Yes, he was involved in a shooting death.

Okay. Was the victim a woman? Im getting a female energy, like a girlfriend or wife.

His ex-girlfriend, Tory validated. The mother of his child.

Clara pushed down her reactions. She had to try and stay somewhat detached on this one, because she had the distinct feeling she wasnt going to like this guy very much. Okay. Hes here, so what did you want to say or ask?

I want to know why. I want to know why he did it to Lisa. Why did he do what he did in prison. Tory couldnt keep her anger at bay. Though shed never been close to her older brother, she still loved him, and

Okay. Clara waited, knowing that Brandon was able to hear his sister. She didnt have to wait long before the answers began to come. Im getting something about Brandons past. Clara looked the older woman in the eye. Do you want to know everything, Tory?

Yes. I think so. Yes. Yes, I do.

Okay. Were you aware that your brother was involved with

 Clara saw a large number 2 appear in her mind. with two situations?

Situations? What do you mean? Tory asked, feeling slightly nervous at the answer. Her parents had denied for years that Brandon had been involved in anything dark, but Tory had always suspected something. She just never knew what.

Yeah. Im seeing two girls. He uh

Um. He-

Raped them, didnt he? She blew out a long breath at Claras nod. I knew it. Danielle and Lee Ann. Tory shook her head. I always knew something happened that night. She looked at Clara. Lisa knew about it, didnt she? Is that why she was killed?

Clara turned her attention back inward to Brandon. She saw a struggle. Shapes fighting, yelling. I think it was more of a fight. I think it came out, and her death was basically accidental/on purpose. 

Tory nodded her understanding. I see. So what about what happened in prison? she asked, still not wanting to lead Clara on with information given.

Clara could hear Brandon in her thoughts: Pressure. Too much pressure and guilt. She tried to make sense of the words, but decided it wasnt hers to figure out. He said, and I quote: Pressure. Too much pressure and guilt.

Coward, Tory said, her voice bitter. Thank you, Clara. I dont really want to know anything else.

Clara nodded. Sure. I hope it helped.

Oh, Tory said, shouldering her purse strap and rising to her feet. It did. Ill let my mother know.

Clara stayed where she was as Kerri walked her friend to the front door. The two women stood in the entryway talking for a few minutes, then Tory was gone, and Kerri returned to the front room, taking Torys seat.

That was really impressive, Clara.

He was a real bastard, Clara said, a chill racing down her spine. God, his energy was just

dark.

He was a bastard. Tory didnt like him, and used to try and stay away from him. Her mother wanted this reading tonight. She never wanted to see Brandon for what he was. He was put in prison for Lisas death, then hung himself there.

Wow. I didnt like that at all. Really, really creepy feel to him.

So, how did it go? Zane asked from the archway leading into the room, a glass of iced tea in hand. Is this house clean? he asked, imitating the voice of Zelda Rubinstein as her character in the film, Poltergeist.

Dont be an ass, Zane, Kerri said, shooting a glare to her boyfriend.

This stuff is so creepy, Kerri. He turned to Clara. I like you Clara, but I dont want you doing that voodoo stuff in this house. You got me?

Clara could only stare at him, surprised and hurt.

Zane! Kerri said, again glaring at him. What is your deal? She didnt do anything wrong.

I didnt say she did. This shit is creepy, and I dont want it here, he said, pointing to the floor at his feet.

Clara was embarrassed and hurt. She pushed up from the window seat. Whatever, she muttered, breezing past him, and up to her apartment.

What the hell is the matter with you? Kerri asked, walking over to him. That was really rude.

Doesnt that shit make you feel uneasy? he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Does she even know what shes doing?

Yes. She does. Shes not doing anything wrong, and you owe her an apology.

No. He looked down at Kerri, jaw set stubbornly. I meant it. I dont want that shit here.

Kerri shook her head, pushing past him. Jerk.

Chapter 21

Damn. Clara stopped at the stop sign, chewing on her lower lip as she noted the orange construction signs on the next block, as well as the detour sign that would lead her to the university in another route. She was already running late, and now would be even later. Damn, damn, damn!

Clara had actually been up late studying for the test that she was going to be late for, and had overslept. When she awoke and realized how light it was out, she panicked, not even bothering to shower as she threw on some clothes, tugged her hair into a ponytail, and flew out the door.

As she sped down a side street, she noticed a small army of police cars parked outside of a house, as well as an ambulance. There was no activity outside, all apparently inside. She shrugged it off and hurried on to school.

Clara was in another of her hiding places in the Cantina  an underground cafeteria for the university  eating a slice of greasy, pepperoni pizza when her eyes alighted on an angelic sight. She was surprised, as shed never seen Shelby in the Cantina before, and couldnt pull her gaze away. The blonde library worker was talking to a black guy as they stood in line for Subway. Their conversation was animated, both all smiles, which made Clara immediately feel an uneasy jealousy just under the surface.

She had very little time to stew over the thought because Shelby spotted her and raised a hand in greeting. Clara swallowed her nervousness  after all, the woman was half a room away  and waved back with what she hoped was a friendly smile.

Shelby continued her conversation with her dark companion, but then moved away from him when she ordered her meal. Clara watched  with no small relief  when a Hispanic girl hurried over to them, immediately planting a kiss on the tall black man. Shelby greeted the girl and gave her a hug, then accepted her food, paid for it, then walked over towards Claras table.

Oh, shit, Clara whispered, panic setting in.

Hey, Shelby said. Are you here alone? Mind if I join you?

No, Clara said, tugging her heavy backpack off the table and to one of the other chairs. Help yourself.

Shelby got situated and began to prepare her salad. So, how have you been? I didnt see you at the library the other day. She squirted a liberal amount of Ranch dressing over her greens.

Oh, yeah. I had to work Tuesday night. Usually I have that night off, but Cassandra  my boss  wasnt feeling so hot, so she asked if Id be willing to work for her. Clara quickly shut her mouth, realizing she was babbling.

Shelby smiled, as though realizing the very same thing. Where do you work? She stabbed a carrot with her plastic fork.

Clara picked one of the few pieces of pepperoni off her pizza and popped it into her mouth. The Pagan. Its a metaphysical shop downtown, she explained, seeing the look of unfamiliarity on her dinner companions face. We sell tarot cards, crystals, incense. That kind of thing.

Gotcha. Guess it makes sense, what with what you do, and all. Shelby chewed her food, studying Clara thoughtfully for a moment. Ive thought a lot about what happened. With my mom, and everything. Ive taken her advice. Now I only go to the cemetery once a week instead of almost every day. Her smile was mischievous.

Well, its a good start, I suppose, Clara said, returning the humor, then quickly sobered. Im really glad, Shelby. You cant let grief run your life. Thats one thing Ive learned in all this. They may be gone, as in you cant see them anymore, but theyre never truly gone.

Yeah, but you can see them and talk to them. Its different for us mere mortals.

Clara chuckled, shaking her head in disagreement. Not really. I mean, if you pay attention, and I mean really pay attention, youll see that they actually find ways to get into contact with you all the time.

Like how? Doubt was obvious on Shelbys beautiful features. She sat back in her chair, forgetting about her food for a moment.

Well, as an example. I know a lady who loves music, and music was a huge part of her and her moms life and relationship when her mom was alive. My friend was driving down the street one day, having a hard time with missing her mom. She felt compelled to turn on her radio, and when she did, it was a song that her mom used to love and listen to all the time.

Oh, come on, Clara, Shelby said, leaning forward slightly. That kind of thing has got to be just coincidence.

I dont believe in coincidence, Clara said, complete certainty in her voice. Nothing is by accident. Nothing.

Like us meeting? You think there was some sort of purpose in it? she asked, a brow raised in challenge.

Is she flirting? Clara was doing a little happy dance inside. your mom needed to give you a message, and it was one you needed to hear. Ive been in that library how many Tuesday nights, and not once have you said a word to me. The one night that your mom has a message for you, you do. Coincidence? I think not.

Shelby grinned, nodding. Okay. But I still think most things in life are pure chance.

And thats cool. Youre certainly entitled to your beliefs. She held her pizza up to her mouth, about to take a bite, pausing for effect. Even if theyre wrong.

Oh, nice! Shelby laughed, playfully tossing a carrot piece at Clara. They ate in silence for a moment, then, Doesnt it bother you? Seeing the dead people?

Clara shook her head. No. Not at all. It used to. It used to scare the hell out of me, but now

Nah.

I dont know. Its just kinda

creepy.

Clara shrugged. Thats not the first time Ive heard that, and it wont be the last, Im sure. When I was in high school, and really figuring this stuff out, I would ask friends, my parents friends, if I could do a practice reading for them. I was surprised by the number of people who werent cool with it.

Yeah. The peanut gallery is still out on that one for me, I think. Shelby took a few bites of her salad, chewing thoughtfully before asking, Are you from here?

Clara nodded, recognizing the change of subject for what it was. At the moment, Shelby wasnt comfortable with what she did. She hoped that would change in time. Born and raised. You?

Shelby shook her head. No. I was born in New York City, but we left when I was still in diapers. We moved around a lot. I counted it one time: I went to thirteen different schools, and that was before high school!

Good god! That had to suck.

Shelby shrugged, pushing her lunch away. Sometimes. It was harder on my older brother, Dennis. Hes pretty shy, so I think the constant new people kind of threw him into even more isolation.

It would have done the same thing to me, Clara admitted, tossing the remaining crust of her pizza to the paper plate it had been served on.

Why? Are you shy?

Extremely. Clara smiled sheepishly.

Really? Shelby asked, swinging her arm casually over the back of her chair. So, what does it take to get to know you, then?

Okay, she is definitelyflirting. Clara took a deep breath. Well, why dont you go to dinner with me and Ill tell you?

Chapter 22

Clara breezed into the store. If it had been a cartoon, birds carrying a silken scarf in their beaks would have flown in before her, announcing her ridiculously happy mood.

Good afternoon, Cassandra, she hummed, heading around the counter and the older woman to the back room to drop off her backpack. She had some studying to do later, so didnt want to leave the bag in her car.

Good afternoon to you, too. Cassandra followed her one employee to the back, amused. Hows the new girlfriend? She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over her chest with a jingle of bracelets.

Claras spreading grin spoke louder than anything she might say. Her boss chuckled. So how has business been today? We gonna be busy tonight? Clara donned her apron and nametag.

Youre the psychic. You tell me.

Clara followed Cassandra out of the back office and to the main part of the store. As she walked, she pulled her hair back into a loose bun. Whats on the agenda tonight?

You have a reading at seven, and then one at nine, Cassandra said, looking at her daily log of appointments.

Since Clara had started doing regular readings at the shop, business had nearly tripled. Clara kept all the money for her readings, but more often than not the clients would either come in early and shop, or stay to purchase something that Clara would recommend: often sage to cleanse their homes of unwanted spirits or energies. Usually after the sage the customers found themselves drawn to the books, and then the decks of tarot. It was a win/win situation for both.

Sounds good. Clara knew that she had stocking to do, as Thursdays were there delivery date. She quickly set about pulling the product from the stockroom before her first reading in less than an hour.

Clara had just found the new shipment of candles when she felt a presence behind her. She knew immediately who it was without turning around. Hi, she tossed over her shoulder.

Whats up? Erica asked, hosting herself up on a stack of boxes. The heels of her shoes beat a light rhythm on the boxes beneath her.

Just working. You? She turned to her old flame, arms crossed over her chest. It had taken some time for here to adjust to Ericas dirty blonde hair, long ago freed of damaging dyes. She had lost the Goth façade a couple years before, instead allowing her true beauty to come through. Even still, Clara had fought hard against Ericas natural charm for four years. It didnt stop Erica from trying, though. Far from it.

So, I was thinking of heading to the cemetery tonight, she said, brushing dirty blonde hair off her shoulder. Wanna come?

Clara glanced at the young woman, now twenty. Not really.

Come on, Clara. You know I dont do that stuff anymore. I just want to go. Its so peaceful.

Clara leaned back against the wall, studying her old friend. Erica, weve been through this. Im not your personal spirit guide.

Erica snickered, knowing of Claras beliefs in such things. I know that. Guess I just hoped for old times sake. She shrugged, playing the rejection off like no big deal. We had some fun.

We did.

Clara, have you got those new candles, yet? Cassandra asked, stopping when she stepped into the backroom. She could feel the tension in the air, and figured she could probably cut it with a knife. Looking from one young woman to the other, she decided she should leave them be.

Erica still carried a torch for Clara, and Cassandra knew she regretted the way shed treated the younger girl four years before. Shed moved on, had dated this one and that, graduated high school and had gone off on her own. Even still, Clara had never been far from Ericas thoughts.

Grateful for the interruption, Clara pushed away from the wall and grabbed the box of candles in question. I need to get back to work.

Two weeks had gone by, and Clara couldn’t be happier. She spent as much time with Shelby as she could, though their work hours tended to get in the way, as Cassandra was asking Clara to work more and more nights. The older woman had started to teach a tarot class on Tuesday and Thursday nights, and so couldn’t mind the shop.

It hadn’t been firmly established just exactly what Clara and Shelby’s relationship was, though Clara saw the blonde as her girlfriend, and anyone who knew that she was gay - all three people - believed the same thing. Except for Shelby. She was afraid to bring it up to Shelby. What if Shelby didn’t feel the same way? What if she freaked out? What if Shelby just thought they were really, really, really good friends, and if Clara said anything that friendship would begin to deteriorate because Shelby would feel pressured, or threatened, or…

Clara took a deep breath, trying to calm herself so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. She was at home, up in her small studio apartment, thinking. She was supposed to be studying, but it wasn’t happening. Her mind had been in turmoil over Shelby for well over a week, now. What should she do? Should she say anything? Should she just kiss Shelby and let things happen as they would? Oh, so many choices!! None of them felt right to her, or seemed appealing.

Clara had thought about talking to Kerri about it, and try and get her advice, but she hadn’t even told her older sister yet that she was a lesbian. What would Kerri do? Would she run off and tell their parents? What they say if they knew?

“Shit!” Clara flopped back on her bed, a headache beginning to creep up with all the thoughts and uncertainty whirling around in her mind. She groaned when she heard scratching on the door. “Moses!” she whined, throwing her legs off the bed and following suit as she got to her feet.

Kerri’s cat loved to sleep in the opened area that was the closet Max had made for her. She padded over to the door and opened it, letting the black and gray feline run inside. She knew better than to close the door again, as he would meow and whine until she opened the door again. And, if she were to dare close it once more, he wouldn’t quit. He wanted to be able to come and go as he pleased. Even if he chose to stay in her apartment all day, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t want out until she closed the door.

Heading back to her bed, Clara plopped down, staring down at the sea of papers and books scattered on her bed. She had no desire to work on any of it, but knew she had to. Distantly she heard the doorbell, and a glance at the alarm clock on the dresser made Clara smile. Shelby had just gotten off work, and had come right over, just as she did every Monday night.

Clara felt her heart pound a little faster with every footfall that brought Shelby up one more stair towards her apartment. The blonde peeked her head into the opened door.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Come on in.” Clara shoved her books and papers to one side of the double bed, making room for Shelby to sit down. The blonde looked around the room that she’d been in dozens of times before.

“You really need to get some furniture in here, Clara,” she said, sitting down, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

“Yes, yes, so you say every time you’re here.”

“And yet you still haven’t done it.” Shelby raised a challenging brow.

Clara rolled her eyes in the familiar game they played. They both grinned. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” Shelby flopped back across the bottom of the bed, looking at Clara’s calculator before moving it so she could rest her head in its place. “Long.” She sighed, long and tired. “Caleb called off again, so I ended up working two extra hours today. I went in this morning before class, then worked my normal shift tonight. God!” she exclaimed, slamming a fist into the comforter. “Why the hell doesn’t my boss do something about him? You know?” She turned to look at Clara, who quickly looked away. She’d been studying the blonde’s profile, marveling at just how gorgeous Shelby really was. She had nearly gotten caught.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. We had someone like that down at the shop for awhile, too, then Cassandra and I realized that we did better with just the two of us and got rid of Tammy.”

“I don’t want them to get rid of him, I just want them to hire someone who actually gives a crap and wants to work. I can’t keep putting in the extra hours like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Clara shoved the books off the bed totally, and laid across her bed on her side, facing Shelby. She pillowed her head in the palm of her hand. With a slight grunt, Shelby re-positioned herself, mirroring.

“What do you want to do tonight?” the blonde asked, her tone turning from hard frustration to the soft, gentle tones always reserved for Clara. Or so Clara hoped.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of money. I had to get that damn radiator fixed, Again.” She sighed in her own frustration.

“Honey, why don’t you just get rid of that clunker?”

Clara’s heart leapt into her chest. She wondered if Shelby realized she’d just called her Honey. “I know. I just don’t want to have to deal with it. Grrr!” She flopped over onto her back, warm fuzzies forgotten as she realized that her bank account was nearly dry after the four hundred and seventy-nine dollar bill she’d received from the garage. “I hate my car.”

Shelby scooted over closer, looking down at her. “At least you don’t have huge bills to pay,” she pointed out, indicating the space around them. “You’ve actually got a pretty sweet deal right here.”

Clara looked up at her. “You think so?”

Shelby nodded. “Oh, yeah. No rent. Only have to water the lawn. I’d say you’ve got it made in the shade.”

Clara grinned. “Yeah, maybe. But I do have my books every semester. You’ve got that covered from your scholarship.”

“True,” Shelby conceded. “But I’ve got rent.” She poked at Clara with a finger. “And food,” poke “and I’ve got to put up with Jasper.”

“The evil roommate.”

“Yes. The evil roommate.” She poked one last time, grinning at Clara’s response. “I still say you should move in so I can kick him out.”

Clara looked into Shelby’s face, trying desperately to read her eyes. Shelby had said things like that before, but Clara always prayed and hoped that one of these days she would finish it with “we should move in together” rather than just Clara taking over for the roommate that Shelby didn’t want in her apartment anymore.

The energy in the room began to change as Shelby continued to look down at Clara. She searched the younger woman’s face, though for what Clara wasn’t sure.

“Can I tell you something, Clara?” Shelby asked, her voice growing softer. Clara nodded. “I really like you. A lot. She grew very shy as she played with the comforter that they lay on. I’ve been having some pretty strange thoughts lately. I was hoping that maybe you could help me out a little.” She glanced over at Clara.

“Okay,” Clara said, her chest beginning to rise faster, as her heart sped up. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking. Ill see what I can do.”

“Okay.” Shelby reached out and touched a long strand of Clara’s hair, wrapping it around one of her fingers. “I’ve been thinking about you. About your eyes.” She looked into them. “They’re so beautiful. Really unusual color. She brought up a finger, tracing on brow. Ive also been thinking about…” her words trailed off as her gaze settled onto Clara’s mouth. Her eyes flicked back to Clara’s, almost as though to see what her reaction would be to what she had insinuated.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before, Shelby?” Clara asked, her heart about to speed right out of her chest. Shelby shook her head. “But you want to. Right?”

Shelby nodded. “Yeah. Very much so. But only if its you.”

“Come here. Let me show you.”

Shelby’s were the softest lips Clara had ever touched. She sighed into the kiss, as did Shelby. She didn’t even notice when her slightly ajar apartment door was pushed slightly further open, just a bit, Kerri peeking her head in to see if the girls wanted to join her and Zane for dinner. Quietly, she closed the door and crept down the stairs.

She sat across from Clara, a stern look on her face. “No, you need to say it like you always say it, Clara,” she said.

Clara was confused, and getting frustrated. Every time she tried to say it just like she was being asked, it came out wrong. “Okay. Let me try again.” She cleared her throat and opened her mouth, intending to say it, just like she’d been asked. “I washed the dog.” She heard it in her head, knew that was what she was supposed to say, but still it came out wrong: Save me.

“No, Clara! That’s wrong! Say it right!”

“Im trying!”

Save me …

Clara gasped as she awoke, looking around her room.

Save me…

She heard it again, this time it wasn’t a strange hiccup in a dream. She could feel that she wasn’t alone, and knew Shelby’s sleeping form had nothing to do with it.

Save me…

She pushed the covers off of her, ignoring the cool chill in the night air, and padded across her living space. The tank top and panties she wore did little to protect her from the cold, or from the fear that niggled at her brain.

Save me…

She stood in the center of her apartment, turning in a slow circle, trying to figure out where she felt the presence. Her senses landed on the area near the curtained-off bathroom, and she stared, trying to see through the inky blackness, but she could make nothing out.

“Clara?”’

Clara was startled by Shelby’s sleepy voice. She’d never had anyone stay overnight before. “Yeah. Just gotta pee,” she said, forcing herself to walk to the very spot where she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle to life.

Once behind the curtain, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, trying not to let the fear and uncertainty get to her. Instead, she sent her thoughts drifting to Shelby, who had fallen back asleep in her bed. They had kissed a lot throughout the evening, never even leaving Clara’s room, but had done nothing else. Clara knew how it felt, that want and desire, but fear of going too far, so had let Shelby lead. When the blonde had reached her limit, she had let Clara know, but had asked if she could stay. Clara wasn’t about to say no.

She decided to go ahead and pee, since she was there anyway, then headed back over to the bed. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she thought of the sound of the woman’s voice in her head. It hadn’t exactly been an audible voice, but it sure had been clear in her mind.

Save me…

Save who? From what? She had no idea, but knew that the woman wasn’t going to go away until Clara did something. The voice had sounded pleading, yet utterly tired and defeated. Maybe she’d see if her grandmother could help, tell her what to do. It had been a long time since shed seen her grandmother, and wasnt entirely positive how to reach her. She just seemed to show up whenever the mood struck.

Clara climbed back in bed, and was immediately glad she did. Shelby rolled over to her and cuddled up against her, placing a soft kiss to Clara’s neck. “Sleep,” she moaned, half-asleep. “Stay here.”

Clara nodded, knowing there was no other place she wanted to be.

“Damn it, Kerri, this isn’t funny!” Zane exclaimed, glaring at his girlfriend, who was most amused.

“I know it’s not, but what do you want me to do about it, babe?” she asked, clipping her hospital badge to the scrubs top she wore.

“I don’t know,” he blew out, hands on hips as he looked around the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Clara asked as she bounded into the room.

“Zane lost his pocket knife. Again.”

“This isn’t funny, Kerri,” he whined.

“So you’ve said.” She got up from where she’d been reading the morning paper and began to look through the kitchen drawers again. “You’re sure you left it in here?”

“Positive.”

Clara joined the search, knowing that her sister’s boyfriend was less-than-careful with where he put things. She opened the fridge, more to grab herself orange juice than to look for the wayward knife, and started. Sitting atop the lid of the butter container was the pocket knife that Zane’s grandfather and namesake had given him as a boy. She held it up.

“Would this be it?”

Zane’s brows drew. “Where the hell did you find it?” He snatched it out of her fingers.

“Sitting on top of the Parkay.”

Kerri tried to hide her snicker, but wasn’t entirely successful at it. With an irritated growl, Zane shoved the folded knife into his back pocket and stormed out of the room.

“Did he have a late night, or something?” Clara asked, sitting in the chair her sister had just vacated.

“No. I honestly don’t know why it was in there, but,” she shrugged. “so be it.”

“Crazy.” Clara drank her juice, sensing her sister’s gaze hot on the back of her head. “Yes, Kerri?” she drawled.

Kerri chewed on her bottom lip, not sure what to say, or if she should say anything at all. Finally she took a deep breath and blew it out. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”

Clara choked on the drink she’d just taken, reaching out for a napkin from the wooden holder at the center of the table to wipe at her mouth. “What?”

Kerri sat across from her. “Why did you never tell me you were into girls?” she asked, her voice soft.

“I guess I never thought it was your business, just like it isn’t now.” Clara pushed back from the table, her defenses on high alert. Kerri grabbed her wrist, stopping her from storming from the kitchen.

“Wait, Clara. I want to talk to you about this.”

“How the hell did you know?” Clara demanded, slamming the single serving-sized bottle on the counter.

“I saw you and Shelby the other night. I went upstairs to ask if you guys wanted some pizza. Your door was open, and…”

“And you saw us.” Clara sighed at Kerri’s nod. “Your cat is evil,” she muttered, ignoring her sister’s confused look. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know what you would do. I didn’t know if you’d freak.”

“Why would I freak?”

“Because I love girls!” Clara said, as though it was the clearest thing in all the world.

“Jeez, Clara,” Kerri laughed. “We’re almost at the new millennium, for crying out loud! I’m open-minded. Besides,” Kerri said, taking a relaxed, casual pose in her chair, a relaxed, casual pose that she didn’t really feel, “you’ve always been odd, doing your own thing, so why should this be any different?”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Great. Thanks.”

Kerri laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s okay, really. Just be careful.”

Of? Clara leaned against the counter, still not sure what to think. She wasnt entirely sure if she should believe Kerris supposed acceptance of her. Shed always felt judged by her older sister, and this was no different.

Kerri shrugged, slightly exasperated. I dont know! I guess who you end up with. What you do. Whatever.

Let me ask you something. Would you be telling me the same thing if I dated guys? To be careful, I mean?

Kerri had to think about that one, realizing that Clara might have gotten her there. I dont know, Clara. All I know is that I love you, and I want to see you happy. If dating girls does that, then what can I say?

Clara sighed, still not completely convinced. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, grabbing the juice bottle in sweat-slicked palms. What about mom and dad? Are you going to tell them?

Are you?

I hadnt really planned on it. Clara sighed, draining the last of the juice then tossing the empty bottle into the trash. Would you?

Kerri sighed. I dont know. Im not entirely sure how theyll take it. You know grandma will blow a gasket.

Of course she will. Everything is the end of the world with her.

Kerri chuckled, nodding in agreement. Mom will probably be okay. I dont know about dad, though you guys are really close. If it were me, Im sure hed blow a gasket, too. But with you



Stop. Thats not true and you know it. Protective of her father to the end, Clara glared at her sister.

Whatever. Either way, Im not sure what to tell you where theyre concerned. Who knows, she snickered, maybe you should just show up with Shelby at Thanksgiving dinner.

Chapter 23

Clara stared out the window of Shelbys small, two bedroom apartment. The snow was falling hard outside, the murmur of the stereo in the corner blocking the sound of the driving November winds. The holiday season was nearly upon them, and Old Man Winter was making his presence known.

Shelby chewed on the tip of her pen as she tapped in some numbers into her calculator, glancing every so often at her girlfriend, who was less-than-interested in her own homework. Clara was watching the snow fall, staring up at the ceiling, the floor, or at her.

Youre not in homework mode, are you? she finally asked.

Clara looked at her, surprised to hear Shelbys voice, as neither of them had said anything in well over three hours. She shrugged. Not in the mood, I guess.

I cant recall a time when you are in the mood.

Clara sighed, pushing herself up off the couch, where shed been lounging with her head in Shelbys lap. Not really. She indicated the books around them. This just isnt my thing, I guess. I never wanted to go to college, Shelby. She ran a hand through her hair, messing up an already messy ponytail.

Then why are you here? Shelby put her text book aside, tossing her pen to the coffee table.

Because my parents made me, to be perfectly honest. Clara looked away, not wanting to see the disapproval she knew shed see in Shelbys face. The blonde was dead set on making her mark in the world, and doing it through business.

They didnt exactly hold a gun to your head, did they? Shelby pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knee.

No, Clara shook her head. Not exactly. But I knew my dad would be disappointed. I told him Id make a go at it.

But have you? Shelby watched Clara, who still looked away from her. Clara? What do you want for your life?

I dont know, Clara blew out. She stood from the couch and walked over to the window that had had her attention all night. The street two floors below was nearly empty at the eleven oclock hour. Tracks made from earlier car tires were nearly gone, fresh snow in their place. I wish someone could tell me.

No one can but you. Why dont you give school a chance? You barely study. I dont know how many classes you go to, let alone if you pay attention during them

 Shelbys voice trailed off as she saw Claras body tighten as her anger built.

Clara whirled on her, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Whose side are you on, Shelby? she demanded. Im sorry if Im not the academic like you, or like Kerri. Im a different person than either of you. Maybe my interest doesnt lie within academia.

Then what will you do? Work some nine-to-five somewhere, maybe buy a house in ten years? If youre lucky, that is. You have to think ahead, Clara. I mean, jeez, she got to her own feet. You speak to dead people, for crying out loud. Im sure theyve told you that you dont live forever. You have to start planning now.

Clara shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach. Jesus, she whispered. Was there no one in the world who understood her? Anyone who would even try? I gotta go. She gathered her books, shoving them angrily into her backpack, looking for her pencil, which how somehow escaped during her hours of relaxing. Shit, wheres my pencil? she demanded, falling to her knees to look under the couch.

Hey, Shelby said, her voice soft as she rested a hand on Claras shoulder. Wait. She waited until she had Claras attention. You cant drive in this, Clara. Please dont leave.

Clara, on her knees, glanced out the window again. The snow was beginning to come down even harder, threatening an all-out blizzard. Damn. She knew Shelby was right, but didnt have to like it. Getting to her feet, pencil forgotten, she zipped her backpack, finished with homework for the night. Ill stay until the storm begins to slow, then Im gone.

Shelby nodded, not wanting to fight with Clara. She knew the brunette could be extremely stubborn when she wanted to be. Okay.

It was growing colder in the small apartment as Clara huddled on the couch, wrapped in the blanket Shelby had provided. She could hear the blonde moving around in her bedroom, the door not completely closed. She glanced down the hall to see the sliver of golden light that emanated from the crack along three sides of Shelbys door.

Shit, she hissed. She was cold, she was tired, and she was being stubborn. She knew that, though she didnt agree with Shelbys tactics, she truly was just trying to be practical. It amazed Clara on a fairly regular basis just how different the two of them really were. Even so, it seemed to work.

Trying to decide what she wanted to do, Clara wrapped the blanket tighter around herself as she stood from the couch as she shuffled her way over to the windows, pushing the closed blinds aside. The storm had yet to lighten, and she knew it wasnt going to.

Still snowing, Shelby said softly from behind Clara, nearly making Clara jump out of her skin. Shelby grinned. Oops.

God, dont do that!

Im sorry about earlier, Clara. Shelby stood a few feet away, shivering in her sweats and tank top. Know that I wasnt trying to judge you. I know youve had a lot of that. I just worry about you. Thats the honest truth.

Clara looked at Shelby, and knew that what she had said was in fact, the honest truth. She felt a warmth spread throughout her entire body. There had been very few people in her life who had only been looking out for Claras benefit. She was touched, and felt a wave of

dare she say love?

wash over her.

Youre freezing, she said in lieu of a response. She opened her arms, the blanket spreading out almost like wings as she engulfed Shelby in the cocoon of warmth.

God, that feels so good, Shelby moaned, nuzzling even closer as Claras arms, and the blanket, enclosed around her. I dont want you to go, she murmured against Claras neck, where she was warming up her chilled nose.

Im not, Clara whispered, eyes closed as she rested her head against Shelbys. The storms too bad.

Shelby shook her head, still half-buried under the blanket cocoon. No. I mean ever. She raised her head, looking at Clara. I want you to move in here with me, Clara.

Clara studied her gaze, trying to read what wasnt being said. You mean as a roommate?

Shelby smiled, finding Claras insecurity cute at times. I mean as in my girlfriend. She couldnt hold it in anymore, and wanted to finally complete what theyd started.

Clara was startled by the power and passion of Shelbys kiss, which she returned with equal vigor. She moaned as a hand made its way up her shirt, cupping her breast over her bra.

Come to bed with me, Shelby said, her mouth already laying a trail of kisses along Claras neck.

Clara didnt have to be asked twice. The cold was forgotten as the blanket landed on the floor in a pile of blue fleece.

Chapter 24

Kerri closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the hot water streaming down her body. A cold spell had hit, and the entire city was under dangerous temperature warnings.

It had been a long day at the hospital, and she was looking very much forward to a quiet night at home alone. Zane was working late, and Clara was upstairs packing. Kerri thought about that as she grabbed the bottle of Pantene, squirting a glob of the ivory-colored shampoo into her palm. Her little sister had gone and fallen in love. Clara had been overjoyed as shed gushed about her plans to move in with Shelby. Kerri was happy for her, and to be perfectly honest, was kind of glad about getting the house back to just her and Zane. It had been a true joy having Clara around, but she looked forward to the total privacy.

Kerris thoughts were interrupted when she saw the shadow of a figure walk quickly by the closed shower curtain, the form distorted by the folds of the vinyl. She felt her blood turn to ice and heart stop as the figure seemed to vanish as quickly as it had come.

Taking a deep breath, she peeked her head around the curtain, thinking that maybe Zane had come home early to surprise her. Or maybe Clara had come in to get something. The bathroom was exactly as shed left it, including the door being securely closed.

Letting out a shaky breath, she pulled the curtain back into place and began to rub the shampoo into her hair. She wanted to forget about what she thought she saw. Perhaps she hadnt seen it at all, and it had simply been the figment of her imagination. Closing her eyes, she raised her face, allowing the water to wash the soap from her face before turning around and rinsing the shampoo out of her hair.

Kerri couldnt stop feeling like she was being watched. She peeked around the curtain again, wiping at her eyes with the edge of her bath towel.

Clara? she called out, wondering if maybe her sister was just outside the bathroom. Perhaps while packing she realized that some of her things were in the main bathroom, where Kerri showered. There was no response.

Kerri pulled the curtain fully closed again, then screamed out as the shadow moved across the front of the curtain in the opposite direction from where it had started moments before.

Clara stopped, blood freezing in her veins as her sisters scream reached her ears. She threw the t-shirt shed been folding to the floor and ran out of the studio, clamoring down the stairs. She was nearly out of breath when she reached the second-floor bathroom.

Kerri? she called, banging on the door. She tried the doorknob but found it locked. Kerri! She pounded a few more times when the door flew open, a towel-wrapped Kerri flying into her startled arms.

Kerri clung to Clara, trembling as her panic turned into emotional release. She tried to stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks, but was unable.

Clara held on, frightened and totally bewildered. She looked into the bathroom, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. The shower was still running, water beginning to drench the toilet seat and rug on the floor in front of the tub.

Hey, she finally said, her wits returning to her. She pushed Kerri away from her just enough to look into her pale face. What happened?

Kerri couldnt speak. She was still trembling, and wanted to get away from the bathroom.

Youre cold. Can you go to your bedroom and put something on and Ill turn the water off? Clara asked softy, rubbing her sisters naked shoulder. Numbly Kerri nodded, scurrying off to the bedroom she shared with Zane down the hall.

Clara took a deep breath, running a shaky hand through her hair as she headed into the bathroom. She looked around, trying to see if maybe Kerri had seen some sort of bug, spider or mouse. There didnt seem to be anything. Nothing under the pile of neatly-folded clothes on the vanity counter. Nothing in the tub or near the drain.

What the hell? she muttered, reaching into the shower stall to turn the water off. She wiped her wet arm off with a hand towel, then headed to Kerris room.

Kerri sat curled up on her bed, dressed in a matching pair of sweats and sweatshirt with her university logo running down along the right thigh of the pants. Clara sat next to her, looking at her.

Are you okay? she asked.

Kerri blew out a breath, then nodded. She was lost in her own head, remembering again what shed seen. She couldnt shake the image, no matter how she tried. Tears began to slowly slide down her cheeks once more.

Hey, Clara said, rubbing a hand across Kerris back. She was beginning to fill with true concern. This was completely unlike her sister. What happened?

I was taking a shower, Kerri began, her voice shaky. She brought a trembling hand up to rub at her cheek. I saw

 her voice trailed off, once again the image before her minds eye.

You saw what? What happened, Kerri? Clara asked, her voice more firm as she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

I saw a shadow. I thought maybe it was you, or maybe Zane, but it wasnt. I thought maybe I was crazy. Kerri wiped at her tears as she tried to keep a sob in. Then I saw it again. I pulled open the curtain, and

and

 She broke down.

Clara hugged her, trying to decide what to do. She knew there was more to this for Kerri to be so shaken by it. She looked around the room as she hugged her sister close, trying to decide what to do.

It was terrible, Clara, Kerri sniffled, head resting on Claras shoulder. She was so awful. Her face was all bloody. She kept staring at me, her mouth moving but nothing came out. I think she was saying, Save me.

Clara pulled away, nearly knocking Kerri over with the movement. She said what?

Save me.

Clara felt dizzy, her stomach turning in knots. Those words echoed in her head, the tone still fresh in her head, though shed heard it more than a week before.

Whats wrong? Kerri asked, wiping at her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. You look like youre the one who saw the ghost.

Clara smiled at her sisters weak attempt at humor. Maybe. Are you okay?

Kerri nodded. Yeah. It just really scared me. She got herself under control, taking a steadying breath. Who do you think that was?

Clara shrugged, shaking her head. Im not sure. I think it may be the same woman who came to me at night, once. Scared the hell out of me.

Was she all bloody?

I didnt see her. I heard her. She was saying save me.

A visible shiver raced through Kerri as she wrapped her arms around herself in a protective hug. Why didnt you say anything?

I didnt know there was anything to say, really. I dont know who she is, and I guess I just figured maybe she would go away.

Obviously not. Youve got to get her out of here, Clara, Kerri said, her voice pleading. I dont care what you have to do, but you need to get her out.

Clara nodded, sighing heavily. Okay. How the hell am I going to do that? Ill do what I can.

Are you going to Shelbys tonight? At Claras nod, Kerri put on her best sheepish smile. I need to ask a favor.

Shelby closed the bedroom door softly, turning to see Clara already beginning to undress. Do you think shell be okay out there? she asked, sitting on the end of the bed to untie her shoes.

Clara nodded. I think so. She had a pretty bad scare. Clara looked at her girlfriend, walking over to her and placing a kiss on her lips. I really do appreciate this, she nodded towards the door. I know shell feel a lot better sleeping out there on the couch than she will at home tonight. Zane wont be home till later, so



No problem. I dont mind. I like Kerri. She finished undressing, throwing on a t-shirt and boxers, as she wasnt entirely comfortable sleeping naked with Claras sister sleeping on the couch just down the hall.

They were quiet for a moment as they slipped into bed and settled in. Clara sighed in contentment, Shelby resting her head on her shoulder. She kissed the blonde head and reached to turn out the lamp.

I probably dont want to know what happened, do I? Shelby asked at length.

Thats up to you. Ill tell you if you want me to, but

 Claras voice trailed off. Truth be told, she wanted nothing more than to be able to share with Shelby what had happened, and maybe try and get some advice.

Shelby raised herself to her elbow, looking down at Clara. She could see that Clara wanted to talk about it, but she truly wasnt sure if she could listen. She understood what her girlfriend did, but shed be lying if she said she was comfortable with it.

Well-

Shelby was interrupted by violent banging on the front door of the apartment. Both women jumped out of bed, startled and already shaken from the unusual events of the night. Clara quickly pulled on the jeans and sweater she had taken off only moments before, and hurried out of the bedroom and to the living room, Shelby hot on her heels.

Kerri was sitting up in the bed shed made on the couch, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. Are you guys expecting someone? she asked as Clara and Shelby hurried into the living room.

No, Shelby said. She was about to look into the peep hole on the door when the person banged again. She nearly hugged the door to see who was on the other side, visibly relaxing. Its Zane.

Clara and Kerri both breathed a sigh of relief as Shelby released the lock and safety chain. The door wasnt fully opened when Zane pushed his way inside. He looked around the room until he spotted Kerri by the couch.

What are you doing here, Zane? she asked, moving over towards him.

I think the better question is what are you doing here? he asked, angry eyes finding Clara.

I left you a note-

I got your damn note. He moved into Claras personal space. I told you I didnt want your crazy voodoo shit in my house, Clara! he boomed.

Zane! Kerri rushed between them, pushing her boyfriend out of Claras face. Stop this.

Well, she brings all this crazy shit into our house and our lives, Kerri! he said, glaring at Clara. I dont know what you did to scare your sister so bad, but I want you to fix it. I want it, and you out of my house. You got me?

Clara took a step back, intimidated by Zanes temper and larger size. She could only stare, stunned by his outburst. Kerri looked on, helpless, looking to Shelby for support. They exchanged a look of anger, then Kerri took action.

Zane, quit it right now.

Zane was about to continue, but Kerri was yanking his arm to pull him away from Clara, who looked like she wanted to cry. He took a deep breath, trying to let his anger and fear go. Lets go, he said, grabbing Kerri by the hand.

Im not going, Zane, Kerri said, pulling her hand away. Im staying here tonight. She took a step back, her, Shelby and Clara inadvertently forming a female triangle.

Zane looked from one face to the other. Are you shitting me? Why?

Because Im not comfortable there right now. I want a good nights sleep, and I wont get it there. I got really scared tonight.

Zane glared at Clara once more. I hope youre happy, Clara, he said, then slammed out the front door.

Stunned silence filled the room as everyone tried to reconcile what had just happened, and Kerri tried to reconcile where Zanes irrational anger stemmed from. She shook herself out of it and turned to her sister. Are you okay, Clara? I dont know what set him off like that.

Clara could only nod. She was hurt by Zanes words, and frightened by the power of his anger, which came off him in waves. She fell back into the warm comfort of Shelby, who had walked up behind her and wrapped protective arms around her waist.

Are you okay, Kerri? Shelby asked softly.

Kerri nodded. Yes. I dont know where that came from. Ive never seen him like that before.

There was awkward silence as all three tried to think of what to say or do. Finally Shelby spoke. Well, I guess we should all get back to bed. After forty-five seconds, no one had moved a muscle. Shelby broke into laughter, followed by Clara and Kerri. Or not.

Twenty minutes later the three sat around the kitchen table, a cup of hot tea for Shelby, a beer for Clara and milk for Kerri.

What do you think it is? Shelby asked. She hadnt wanted to know what had happened, but Zanes enraged appearance had piqued her interest, despite her own internal warnings. She knew shed be having nightmares that night.

I dont know. I need to ask my grandmother. The words were out of Claras mouth before she could stop them. She could feel Kerris eyes on her. She took a sip of beer before meeting her sisters gaze. Shes my spirit guide.

Kerri stared at her for a long moment. Grandma Greenwold is your spirit guide? she asked, incredulous. I didnt even know she believes in this stuff.

Clara slowly shook her head. Not Grandma Greenwold. She waited for the light bulb to switch on.

Wait, what? Kerri leaned forward in her chair, utterly baffled. Do you mean



Yes, Clara nodded. Moms mom.

Thats not funny, Clara.

Its not meant to be, Kerri. Clara kept her voice soft and on an even keel, even as she felt her defenses begin to rise. She absolutely hated having to defend herself and her abilities.

Shelby was confused, as shed heard none of this. Whats the catch?

Our moms mom has been dead for thirty-five years.

Shelby looked from Kerri to Clara then to her tea. Oh.

I dont understand. What do you mean spirit guide? What is that? Why grandma? Youve never even met her, Clara. How the hell can she be your spirit anything?

Because shes a spirit herself, mainly, Clara answered, looking her sister dead in the eye, daring her to a challenge. It worked, as Kerri began to back down.

Can you explain it to me? she asked, her voice noticeably softer, less confrontational.

Ive always felt a connection with her. Ive told you that before, Clara explained. At her sisters nod, she continued, Shelbys attention bouncing back and forth between the sisters, like she was watching a tennis match. She came to me one night a few years ago. Said shes been guiding me this whole time. She helps me when Im stuck. Like right now.

So, she comes to you?

Clara nodded. Sometimes. I need to figure out who to

summon, I guess the word would be

her. I havent really messed with it.

Why? Shelby asked, intrigued despite herself.

Clara shrugged, finishing off her drink. I dont know. Sounds stupid, but guess I dont want to bug her.

Kerri chuckled. I doubt that. She played with her half-drank glass of milk for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. What is she like? Stephanie had said little about her mother, and Kerri wasnt entirely sure that she remembered that much, considering how young shed been when the accident happened.

Claras smile was immediate. She gives me a sense of calm. I dont know. Its like

its like she gives me complete and total unconditional love. Theres no judgment. Just love.

All of this from your dead grandmother? Shelby asked, the doubt obvious in her voice. At Claras nod, she scooted back from the table, images of her mother  cold and in the ground  entering her mind. Im going to bed. I have class early tomorrow.

Kerri watched her sister watch her girlfriend leave the room. She remained silent, waiting to see what Clara would say or do. It was obvious Shelby was uncomfortable.

Clara cleared her throat, taking Shelbys abandoned tea cup to the sink, rinsing it out and putting it in the dishwasher. She doesnt like to talk about this kind of stuff, she said, her voice quiet. Clara tried to push it out of her mind, push out the fact that she was defending her girlfriends absence.

Not everyone is, Clara. Kerri dumped out the rest of her milk, the glass taken from her by Clara. Kerri rested a hand on the counter as she watched her little sister rinse the glass. How are you with that?

Clara shrugged after a moment. What can I do? If shes not comfortable, shes not comfortable. Her mom died last year, and I think it messes with her pretty bad. She finally met Kerris penetrating gaze. What?

Kerri shook her head. It wasnt her place to judge or question. Clara had always been strong enough to stick with people who accepted her for all that she was. The older sister just hoped Clara wasnt making an exception for love.

So, Kerri blew out, attempting to lighten the darkening mood. Whats your plan to get that woman out of my house?

Im not sure. Clara hopped up onto the countertop, her bare heels bumping lightly against the cabinets below. This woman is obviously in some sort of trauma. Have you ever noticed any activity in your house before?

Kerri thought for a minute, then shook her head. Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.

What about Zane constantly losing things? Have you ever lost anything there? Or something been misplaced.

Actually, now that you mention it, yes. Kerri leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.

I dont think that was random, Kerri. I think this woman has been trying to get your attention.

But it all seemed to start when you moved in, Kerri said, not meaning to sound accusatory, but a fact was a fact.

Clara shrugged. That may be. See, we all have a light, Kerri. A living light. People like me  those who can communicate with them, psychics, that kind of thing  have a living light that is nearly blinding. Spirits are drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Is that why weird shit seems to follow you around? Kerri grinned.

Clara nodded, amused. Exactamente. They know I can hear them, so to speak. She rested her head back against the cabinet behind her. So, now I just have to try and figure out how to help her. How to reach her.

They were quiet for a moment, both lost in the situation. Finally Kerri spoke. Im really sorry about how Zane reacted. That was completely uncalled for.

Clara looked at Kerri for a long moment. Why are you with him?

Kerri was taken aback. Because I love him.

Clara nodded, but hopped down from the counter. Im tired. Gonna head to bed.

Kerri followed her out of the small kitchen. Why did you ask that, Clara?

Clara looked at her for a long moment. Because hes an ass, Kerri. Im sorry to say that, but he is. With that, she headed down the short hall that would lead to the bedroom she shared with Shelby.

Shelby was lying on her side, facing Claras side of the bed. Clara stood next to the bed for a few moments, looking down at the sleeping blonde. With a heavy sigh, feeling as though a weight had been placed on her shoulders  though she wasnt sure from what  Clara turned and walked over to the window. Pushing the gauze-like curtains aside, she stared down at the winter wonderland below. She loved the snow. Loved how pure it was.

Resting her forehead against the cool glass, she sighed, her breath leaving a circle of steam on the pane. She thought about her conversation with Kerri and Shelby, and then her thoughts roamed to her grandmother. She hadnt seen her in a long time, though she felt that the voice of reason or suggestion she often heard in her head was likely her. One thing, though, ever since shed been shown that Rebecca was indeed in her life, she felt a feeling of and well-being. It was almost as though no matter what, no matter where she went or what she did, someone was there for her. An ally. It was comforting.

Baby? Shelby mumbled. Come to bed.

Clara glanced over her shoulder into the darkness of the bedroom, able to make out Shelbys still form beneath the covers. With one final sigh, Clara undressed and slid into bed.

Chapter 25

Clara lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the quiet, even breathing of her girlfriend next to her. Shed been laying there for more than an hour, unable to fall asleep. Thoughts of her grandmother kept racing across her thoughts, wishing that shed show up, sit on the edge of the bed, and tell her what to do.

Close your eyes

Clara looked around the room, halfway sitting up in search of the source of the voice. They were alone.

Close your eyes, Clara. See my face

Claras heart began to pound, even as she lay back down and letting her eyes slip closed.

Deep, even breaths. Think of me. See me

Clara did as she was told, feeling her body begin to relax, even feel lighter. She tuned out the sound of snow hitting the window. She tuned out the sound of Shelbys breathing. She tuned out the sound of her own. At first what she saw behind her eyes was a swirl of blackness, the blood flowing to create crazy shapes and images. As she felt herself fall deeper, the blackness began to part, like a shroud, conveying her from one world to the next.

She found herself in a cave, a massive waterfall to the left. She quickly realized she was in the space behind the waterfall. Looking around, it was dark, but light seemed to emanate from an unknown source, giving everything a bit of a surreal, ethereal quality.

She decided to look around the cavern, noting there seemed to be carvings in the stone of the walls. She reached out a hand, amazed to find she could actually feel the coolness of the stone against her fingertips. There were indeed carvings, wonderful designs that pitted the stone. She was following one with her index finger when she realized she wasnt alone.

Turning, she saw someone standing not more than ten feet away. The silent figure began to come into focus. Claras smile was immediate when she realized Rebecca stood there, watching her. She looked as she remembered: young and beautiful, her own natural light making her absolutely breathtaking. Her shoulder-length dark hair was pulled back from her face, left long in the back.

Welcome, Rebecca said, her voice soft, soothing. She held out her arms. Clara needed no other invitation. She found herself engulfed in the warmest, most comforting embrace she could ever remember having. Even more so than a hug from her own mother. Ive missed you, Clara, she said into the hug.

Clara rested her head on her grandmothers should, eyes closed. Me, too. Crazy since I dont really know you.

Not crazy. Your soul does. Rebecca pulled back, looking into Claras eyes. Do you remember this place?

Clara looked around. Though she thought the cave was beautiful and very interesting, she knew she didnt know it. She shook her head.

Its a favorite spot of yours here. We used to come here a lot before you incarnated.

So, we are close. Over here. Where am I, anyway?

Rebecca smiled. The other side, and yes. Were very close. Come on, she said, taking Claras hand in her own. we have a lot to talk about.

The next thing Clara knew, she was standing in the middle of what looked to be a very small cabin. The room was a rectangle, no halls or doorways leading to other parts. In front of her was a massive fireplace, which took up the entire wall, behind a green sofa, where Rebecca sat, waiting. She patted the cushion next to her.

Clara sat down, relaxing into the softness of the couch, and basking in the warmth of the fireplace and her grandmother.

Come here, Clara, Rebecca said, gently pulling Clara down until her head was resting in her grandmothers lap. Clara sighed as she felt gentle fingers run through her hair. We need to talk about this little problem you have.

What problem? Clara muttered, barely able to think straight, Rebeccas ministrations felt so good.

Rebecca chuckled. Dont fall asleep on me. Ill lose you. We have limited time.

Clara nodded. Okay. She focused on her grandmothers voice instead of her fingers. I dont know what to do about that woman. How do I reach her?

Youll have to go to her, Clara.

Clara sat up, looking at the soft serenity of Rebeccas face. You mean



Rebecca nodded. The after shadow, yes. Clara began to shake her head, fear creeping into her eyes. Clara, listen to me. Rebecca cupped her face in her palms. You cant be afraid of it. You shouldnt go there often, but there are times when you have to. This woman is stuck. She needs you to help her.

Clara took a deep breath, turning to look at the fire, marveling at the brilliance of the colors of the flames. So much more vivid than anything shed see on her plane. Okay. Tell me how.

I will. When the time is right, Ill be there. She pulled Claras head into her lap once more. For now, you need to rest.

Clara sighed, content as once more Rebeccas fingers began to sweep through her hair. Rebecca leaned over her, placing a soft kiss to her cheek.

Tell your mother I love her, she whispered.

Clara nodded, feeling her body begin to drift, as though on a sea of clouds. Contentment and peace filled her, sending her off into the land inside her head, deep in sleep.

Chapter 26

I didnt mean it literally, Clara, Kerri hissed as they walked up the walkway to their mothers house, Shelby locking the car.

Clara grinned. What, you mean I shouldnt tell mom and dad Im gay by bringing my girlfriend to Thanksgiving dinner?

Yes! Theyre gonna freak.

Clara chuckled. I guess Dads already here, she observed, noting his car parked at the curb in front of the house.

Want some help? Shelby asked, reaching for the large bowl of frog-eyed salad Clara carried, as well as two loaves of bread.

Sure. Clara readjusted her load, handing her the bowl.

The house smelled wonderful as they walked inside, and Clara felt like drooling. One memory she had through all her childhood years was the smell of turkey the night before Christmas and Thanksgiving. Her mother would put the bird in her big, white metal roaster late the night before, letting it cook slowly all night. Stephanie Greenwold was a wonderful cook, and Claras mouth was already watering at the thought of all the wonderful food that had been prepared. She knew her mother had spent a small fortune on the feast.

Max greeted his daughters with a wide smile and even wider hug. He was overjoyed to see them, especially his Clara girl, who he didnt get to see very often, what with her busy school and work schedule. He was, however, surprised to see the cute blonde who stood behind her.

Hi. Im Max, he said, holding his hand out. He hadnt been told one of Claras friends would be joining them for the family dinner.

Hi. Shelby. Shelby shook his hand, returning his warm smile of welcome. She wondered if his smile would be as welcoming once he found out she was sleeping with his daughter.

Nice to meet you. Do you go to school with Clara, or

?

Actually, Dad, Clara said, moving to Shelbys side. She took a deep breath, knowing this was the moment of truth. She just hoped shed still be able to have her mothers famous mashed potatoes after that truth. Shelby and I live together.

Maxs smile froze on his lips, unsure what to make of the statement. He looked at Kerri, confused. When did you move out of Kerris house?

Hey, girls! Stephanie gushed, grabbing Kerri in a ferocious hug, followed quickly by Clara. She sensed something was up, and looked from Max to her daughters, to the blonde stranger. Whats going on?

Did you know Clara had moved out of Kerri and Zanes? Max asked.

Stephanie shook her head, looking at her youngest. No. No idea. Everything okay? she asked, looking back and forth between her girls.

Kerri took a step back, not wanting to get in the middle of this. She thought it was nuts for Clara to spring it on their parents the way she was, but it was her deal.

No, everythings fine. Shelby and I just decided we wanted to live together. Clara grabbed the blondes hand, holding it securely in her own, leaving nothing to the imagination of the manner of their relationship.

Max had to tear his eyes away from the sight of the clasped hands, anger beginning to build at being ambushed. He looked at Stephanie. What the hell is going on? he asked. Stephanie shrugged, shaking her head. What the hell is going on? he asked again, this time the question aimed at Clara.

Dad, Mom, I know this is kind of an awkward time-

Awkward? Max boomed. Its Thanksgiving, for Christs sake!

Max, calm down, Stephanie said, taking hold of his arm. Keep a cool head. She turned to Clara. Clara, could you come talk to me and your dad in the kitchen for a minute, please?

Clara looked at Shelby, her heart pounding. The blonde nodded her consent and let go of Claras hand, stepping over by Kerri. Clara held her head up high, exuding a confidence she did not feel as she headed into the kitchen. She looked with wistfulness at the bounty of food spread out over the kitchen counter and table.

Okay, before we begin, Stephanie said, turning pointedly to Max, no one will lose their temper or say anything they might regret. She turned to Clara, who stood dead center, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Explain this to us, Clara. Whats going on?

Im gay, Clara said with a shrug of indifference.

You are not gay, Max laughed, thinking the whole thing was ludicrous.

Max, Stephanie warned. He shut his mouth, taking a similar position to that of his daughter. Clara, why do you think youre gay?

Clara smirked. Because I have sex with women.

Clara Jane Greenwold! Stephanie scolded, angry at the flippant way her daughter was handling this. This isnt a joke. You need to have some respect for your parents.

Im sorry, Clara said quietly, dully chastised. This isnt new, guys. I knew back in high school.

And Erica? Max asked, doing his best not to sound like Clara was in the middle of the Spanish Inquisition. He wasnt entirely successful. The squeeze on his bicep from Stephanie helped keep him calm.

She was my first girlfriend. Clara tried to physically relax, even if inside she was a molten core of worry and confusion. Why couldnt they just understand she liked girls and leave it at that?

I see, he said, bringing up a hand to stroke the stubble that marred his chin. Didnt Stephanie like facial hair on men?

So, what does this mean, exactly? Stephanie asked, resting her hand on the butcher block island at the center of the kitchen.

Clara shrugged. It means that Im in love with Shelby, like Kerri is with Zane, and were making a life together.

Stephanie walked over to her daughter, eyes hurt. Why did you never say anything to either of us about this, honey?

Because I knew I would get the third degree. Claras defiance wasnt helping her fathers mood.

We have a right to know, he said, no longer able to hold his tongue. Instead, you bring your girlfriend here, during a family holiday, embarrassing us by blurting out this unbelievable news!

Max! Stephanie turned on him then, glaring. Please go set the table.

Forget it, Clara said, slamming by her father and into the living room. Kerri, can Zane give you a ride home later? she said, not even bothering to wait for her sister to respond. Shelby, stunned, looked from Kerri to Clara, who was hurrying out of the house, then to Stephanie who was running from the kitchen following.

Clara, wait! she called.

What do I do? Shelby whispered to Kerri, who simply shrugged her shoulders.

Clara dug her keys out of the pocket of her jeans, tears making it difficult to find the right one. Finally she got the car unlocked and slid behind the wheel. There was a tapping on the passenger-side window. She saw Shelby standing there, and leaned over the front seat, unlocking the door for her.

Clara, dont do this, Stephanie said, knocking on Claras window.

Clara looked up at her, rolling the window down just enough to be heard. Enjoy your holiday, Mom. Ill call you later. She started the engine and backed out of the driveway.

Shelby stirred in the chocolate powder, leaving the spoon on a folded napkin as she carried the mug of hot cocoa in to where Clara sat on the couch. Her twilight-colored eyes were puffy and red from the crying shed done once theyd reached the apartment.

Here you go, sweetie, Shelby said softly, setting the mug down on the end table next to Clara. She sat next to her. She studied Claras profile, not sure what to do. The days events had been a surprise to everyone, and she could tell Claras heart was broken. She hadnt said much, but Shelby knew how close she was to her father. Apparently what hed said had hurt her deeply. He called again, Shelby said softly, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of Claras face. He said hes going to keep bugging you until you talk to him.

Clara took a deep, shaky breath, finally looking at her girlfriend. I really didnt think hed do that, Shel, she said. I figured if anyone would be okay with it, he would. He always supported me on what I am, who I am. Why is this any different?

Because I think he felt cornered. Today may not have been the best time to break the news to them, baby. A little warning might have been better.

Why didnt you tell me that? Clara asked.

Shelby smiled, leaning in to place a small kiss on Claras lips. I did. So did Kerri. She poked her playfully. Youre just too stubborn.

Like him, Clara said, trying to hide a slightly smile.

You should talk to him, Clara. He sounds pretty broken up about this. He even offered to bring you a plate of mashed potatoes. Not sure what that means, but

He did offer.

I love my moms mashed potatoes. He knows that. She let out a loud breath, which blew her long bangs. Sipping her hot cocoa, she thought about what Shelby had said. Theyd been at the apartment for less than three hours, and the phone had rung nearly off the hook. Shed spoken briefly to Kerri, but refused to speak to either of her parents.

Listen, I cant make this decision for you, but Id do anything to have my mom here to spend the holiday with. Monkey just doesnt cut it, you know? Shelby said, indicating the dog who slept undisturbed on the chair across the room. Dont take time with your parents for granted. Theyre not perfect, just like youre not. They make mistakes, too. Shelby placed a solid kiss on Claras cheek, then left her alone there, heading off to shower and give her some privacy to think.

Clara took that time, sprawling out on the couch and sipping her hot drink. It was colder than a witchs tit outside, and more snow was predicted for the coming night. Shelby had wanted to start her Christmas shopping on the traditional day after Thanksgiving, but Clara wasnt positive anything would be open. She was just glad that Cassandra wouldnt be.

She was about to take another drink when the phone rang once more. She glanced at the cordless on the coffee table as if it were a snake that would bite her hand should she reach for it. She could hear Shelby in the bedroom rifling through her dresser drawers. The movement stopped, as did the ringing. Distantly Clara could hear her voice, low and calm. Pleasantries were exchanged, then Shelby padded down the hall until she reached the mouth of the living room.

That was your mom. She said your dad has asked for you to come to his place and talk to him when youre ready. She said hes off for the next four days, and said you have a key, so let yourself in if he happens to not be home. Message delivered, Shelby turned and retraced her steps, ending in the bathroom with the soft closing of the door.

Max sat in his recliner, the neck of a beer bottle dangling from his between his fingertips. He watched the fire dancing in its brick prison, his thoughts troubled. Soft fingers trailed through his hair, even softer lips grazing his cheek.

Itll be okay, Max.

I just hope I didnt mess up bad, he said, taking a swig of the beer. A feminine hand reached down, taking the bottle from him. The diamond on a brand new engagement ring glinted in the firelight.

Drinking yourself into oblivion isnt going to help. Youve done what you can, and the rest is up to her. Another kiss was placed on his other cheek. Come to bed. Shell come around when shes ready.

Max blew out a breath, nodding his agreement. Even so, his stomach was tied up in knots. He followed where he was being led, eyes firmly glued to the shapely ass of the woman he loved. She glanced at him over her shoulder.

You really should tell her, Max.

He nodded again. I will. When I see her.

Chapter 27

Zane chewed on a fingernail, his nerves nearly getting the best of him. Clara had been at the house for less than ten minutes, and he was already getting a creeped out feeling in his gut. The ghost stuff freaked him out, and he just wanted Clara out. She had been officially moved out for a week, and he was glad. He liked the kid well enough, but something about her set him on edge.

Clara, for her part, was ignoring Zane. He and Kerri sat in the front room of the large, somewhat rundown Victorian, allowing her to wander through all the rooms and floors at will. She was trying to get a feel for the place, and much like Alex Estratas place, allowing herself to be led by the energy. The house had a heavy feel to it that she didnt remember feeling before.

When shed arrived, shed asked Kerri in depth about what had been happening  if anything  over the past week. Nothing quite as traumatic as the night shed been in the shower, Kerri said, but she also felt the heaviness in the air, and Zane seemed to be even more moody than usual. Things continued to disappear or move, seemingly of their own accord.

As Clara made her way through the house, she couldnt shake the feeling that whatever was in the house didnt originate there. It didnt feel as if it were someone who used to live in the house, or even on the land, as it had been in her English teachers house.

She needs help

Clara stopped, her hand on the banister about to make her way downstairs from the second floor. She looked around, expecting to see her grandmother standing behind her.

She followed you

Who is she? Clara asked softly, eyes scanning the hall and opened doorways around her. She very much felt as though she were being watched. Though she didnt feel she was in danger, or the source had any sort of malicious intent, but she felt uneasy, all the same.

Susannah

Clara heard the name as clear as if someone three feet away had said it, and it wasnt the voice of her grandmother. She turned away from the stairs, deciding to stay on the second floor, as thats where she felt Susannahs presence.

Are you stuck here, Susannah? Clara asked conversationally, walking toward Kerri and Zanes bedroom, eyes ever on the lookout. Do you need my help? She heard nothing. Susannah? Are you here? I cant help you if you wont help me.

the bedroom was empty, as Clara expected, and the energy wasnt as heavy. She left it, heading into one of the two guest bedrooms. She found herself drawn to the one that was piled with boxes and old, unused furniture. It had effectively been turned into a storage space since the attic had been in use by her.

Wow, she whispered, almost able to feel the air clinging to her skin. Her solar plexus was wide open, excepting the energy in such large quantities that it was making Clara feel nauseous. She put her hand over her stomach, trying in vain to block it.

Save me

Clara whirled around, instantly stopping cold. Halfway across the small room she saw the vision of a tall woman, her dark hair cropped short and curly. The figure of what looked to be a man was with her. Clara knew instinctively that she was seeing Susannah, and was about to see what had happened to her. She tried to prepare herself for the worst.

Susannah raised her arms, trying to ward off the myriad of blows that was being rained down upon her head, face and shoulders. It looked as though he were beating with either a pipe or a candlestick, Clara couldnt tell. She gasped in horrified wonder as blow after blow was dealt until finally the image faded.

Jesus, Susannah, she whispered, her voice shaky with emotion. What do I do, Grandma?

Kerri

Clara turned to see Kerri peeking into the room, looking unsure, almost like a child creeping into her parents room in the middle of a thunderstorm. Everything okay?

Clara nodded. I think so. Ive made contact. Something occurred to her. She realized that Rebecca hadnt mentioned Kerris name to alarm her of her presence, but had said it as a guide. She wanted Kerri there, and Clara understood why. Bring Zane in here.

Kerri shook her head. He wont come, Clara.

Do it.

Kerri, surprised by the hard, authoritative tone of her little sisters voice nodded without further argument, and left the room. Minutes later the couple appeared. Zane hung back while Kerri entered, stopping halfway between him and Clara. Clara reached for them both.

I need you both to come here.

Nah, thats okay, Zane said, sounding just like a little boy. If the situation hadnt been so serious Clara would have laughed.

Zane, take my hand, she said instead, holding out her left hand to him. Reluctantly he took it in his much bigger one. Kerri took Claras right hand and took Zanes in her other hand. Do you guys feel it? Clara asked, looking at them both.

It feels so heavy in here, Kerri said. She looked at her boyfriend to see he was nodding.

Because thats where she stays. Her name is Susannah.

Why in here? Zane asked, looking around uncomfortably.

Because this room isnt used that much, Clara said.

After shadow, Clara. Go find her in the after shadow

Clara closed her eyes, not entirely sure why she did. I need you guys to stay quiet, she said, her voice low and soft. I need you to trust me, and no matter what, do not let go of my hands. She truly had no clue what she was saying and why, but decided to go with it.

Find her. Find Susannah

As the darkness behind Claras lids began to clear, she found herself in a backwards world. It was the same world where shed been the night of Ericas party, almost five years before. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and push away the panic. She could see the room they were standing in, but it was as though the sun had gone out, leaving eternal moonlight to guide her way.

Looking to her left, Clara saw the ghoulish outline of Zane: dark and featureless, though seeming larger than life. She shivered. To her right was the figure of her sister, just as dark and sinister as Zanes. they didnt belong in this world. The living had no rights. This was a place for the dead.

The room began to recede, and Clara could see Susannah standing not far from her. She looked frightened, so very, very frightened. Clara walked towards her, reaching out a hand.

I need you to come with me, Susannah, she said, her voice soft. Susannah could only stare, not sure what to do. I can help you. I can free you. She reached the much taller woman and looked up into her face, eyes so filled with the shadows of her violent death. You came to me for help. Let me help you.

Clara? Whats going on? Kerri asked, feeling a change in the room. It was as though some sort of energy were gathering right into the center of the circle the three of them had created with their linked hands.

Dont be afraid, Clara said, eyes still closed.

Clara realized they were in some sort of hallway, the walls seeming to be painted black. It was eerie, though not exactly threatening. Even so, Clara knew she had to get Susannah and herself out of there.

Grandma, help me, Clara whispered, never seeing her sister and Zanes eyes on her.

At the end of the long hallway a door opened. Beyond the opened entrance  or was it an exit?  Clara could see Rebeccas silhouette against the golden light that she knew was the other side.

Come with me, she said, holding tightly to Susannahs hand as she began to make her way down the hallway and towards her grandmother, who had entered the hall, but only by about ten feet.

Who is that? Susannah whispered, her voice shaky with fear.

Shell help you. I promise. Clara smiled back at the frightened woman, holding tight to her hand.

Kerri could feel her heart beginning to pound as a coldness began to envelope the space the three of them created between them. It wasnt cold coming from the windows or the cold November day beyond. It was a cold that seemed to have its source between them, and it started from the inside and worked its way out, not the other way around. She shivered, as did Zane, who met her gaze.

What is that? he mouthed.

Kerri shook her head with a slight shrug.

Clara led Susannah to where her grandmother waited, then gently placed the frightened womans hand in Rebeccas.

Ill take her from here, Clara.

Clara stood back, watching as Susannah literally put her soul in Rebeccas hands. They made their way towards the open doorway, stepping across. The tall woman turned back once, gave Clara a large, grateful smile, then passed through, vanishing into the light of the other side.

Clara felt a coldness wash over her, bringing her back to the guest room in her sisters house. She gasped, almost as though taking a breath for the first time in minutes. The air in the room seemed to get extremely heavy, and then without warning, the coldness washed over all of them, dissipating, leaving a calm in the room that was palpable.

Zane looked around, stunned. The room was lighter, and seemed to be brighter, too, though he imagined that had to be his own imagination talking. He felt that the heavy presence that had been in his house was gone, and he truly had no words for how that felt. He felt frightened, grateful, and very humbled to have witnessed something that he felt at a gut level was extraordinary.

Kerri let go of Claras hand, wiping at a tear that was about to escape her left eye. She felt emotionally drained, and had no idea why. She looked at her boyfriend and saw he was equally affected.

Shes gone, isnt she? she asked Clara, who simply nodded. I can tell. God, it feels so different in here. She looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time in a month. What happened?

Clara shook her head, not wishing to share it. Just know that Susannah has found peace, and it was beautiful.

Clara sat on the front porch of the apartment complex where she lived with Shelby. She didnt even feel the cold as she stared sightlessly into the night. Her mind was still back in that bedroom. She once again saw the pain and torture Susannah went through before she finally found the relief of death, only to be lost, trapped between two worlds.

She shivered, hugging herself tightly. She closed her eyes as she felt a tear make its way down her cheek, just about freezing on her chilled skin. She absently wiped it away.

Hey. Shelby sat on the stoop next to her, tugging her jacket tightly around her. I was wondering if youd used taking out the trash as an excuse to run off with the circus or something.

Clara smiled, though didnt look at the blonde. No. Just sitting out here thinking.

About what?

Nothing. Clara looked at Shelby, a sad smile on her face. She wanted so badly to talk to her about it, to be rocked and held and told shed done good. Instead, she kept it inside, saying nothing. Today at Kerris was just a little emotional, thats all.

I bet. Im glad you were able to help them out. Ill have to start calling you Dr. Venkman? she teased, referring to Bill Murrays character in Ghost Busters.

Clara nodded with a weak smile. You do and Ill never answer.

Shelby chuckled, completely unaware of the emotional turmoil inside her girlfriend. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Well come on in. Its freezing out here. She pushed up from the stoop and headed inside.

Clara looked up at the sky, the moon long hidden by the winter clouds, tears slowly sliding down her cheeks.

Chapter 28

Clara glanced over at the building, seeing her fathers truck parked out back. At least he was home. She hadnt spoken to him since the whole Thanksgiving fiasco, and felt nervous sweat licking her palms. At first she hadnt called because she was angry, but then she began to think maybe she was wrong and had overreacted, so then felt guilty.

Shit, she blew out, resting her head back against the seat, hands with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She hoped that her father would listen to her and just accept her like he always had. The only area of her life theyd ever disagreed in was whether or not she went to college. Shed ultimately given in, but not with this. He had no say in this, and his opinions couldnt matter.

Finally gathering her courage, she unbuckled her seatbelt and let herself out of her car. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, head bent to avoid getting hit full-force by the wind. Shelby had offered to go with her for moral support, and now there was a part of her that wished shed taken her up on that.

She made her way to his doorstep, grudgingly pulling a hand out of her pocket to knock. She waited, bouncing slightly on her heels as she waited for him to answer.

Come on, Dad, she muttered, looking around the parking lot of the building. Nothing. She knocked again, this time louder. After another moment of silence, she pulled out her key chain, picking out the key that would open the door and let her into the warmth of his apartment. He was probably showering, the CD player volume at ridiculous decibels, as per usual.

The living room was an absolute disaster  far more than usual. Magazines were spread all around the floor next to the coffee table. Two wine glasses sat on an end table, one still with the lipstick mark on it. There was a trail of clothes leading from the couch down the hall, and ending at the opened bedroom door with a red, satin thong.

Clara immediately felt embarrassment flushing her cheeks as she heard obvious sounds of some serious passion coming from down the hall.

Ah, Jesus, Dad, she muttered. She was about to backtrack when she heard 

Do you hear something? Her fathers voice.

I think someone is in here, a woman whispered.

Hello? Max called out.

Clara buried her face for a moment. Its me, Dad. Um, Ill come back later, she called out, her hand already on the doorknob for the front door.

No! he called. Ill be there in a sec!

Oh. Okay. Um. Ill wait for you on the front porch.

Clara couldnt get out of there fast enough, having already seen and heard enough to traumatize her for life. She closed the door behind her and sat down, already beginning to shiver. I cannot believe my dad was in there getting it on, she muttered to herself, her words coming out in white puffs.

She heard movement behind her and turned as the door opened. Max was wearing a pair of jeans and a hastily thrown on shirt. His hair was mussed, and the stubble from Thanksgiving had turned into nearly a full, though still short, beard.

Im sorry about that, he said, apology in his voice.

Hey, its your deal, Clara said, getting to her feet and shoving her hands back into her pockets. Just like its mine.

Come inside, Clara, he said, opening the door wider in invitation. We have a lot to talk about.

Clara walked towards him, ready to pass him when he stopped her. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, love radiating from him. He took her in a tight hug, as though his very life depended on it. Clara clung to him, her head resting against hic chest. She could hear his heart beating solidly in his chest, a large hand gently cupping the back of her head to hold her in place.

He kissed the top of her head then released her. He kept his hand on her shoulder as she stepped away to face the rest of the room. She was stunned to see Stephanie Greenwold sitting on the couch, a smile on her face.

All she could do was stare, her mouth hanging open.

Weve been meaning to tell you, Max said from beside her.

So why didnt you? Clara asked, finally pushing her shock aside.

We were going to over Thanksgiving, honey, Stephanie said, rising from the couch and walking over to her youngest. It didnt work out that way. She took her daughter in a tight hug, looking into her stunned face as she released her. Were sorry we didnt tell you sooner.

Clara looked from one parent to the other. What does this mean? Are you guys just gettin it on, or is there something substantial actually behind this?

Stephanie looked at Max, a moment of silent communication before she turned back to their daughter. She raised her left hand, showing off the new engagement ring Max had given her two weeks before. Were giving it a second chance.

I could never fully walk away from your mom, Max explained, his arm around her waist. He shrugged. We both made some mistakes in the past, but its time to put it all behind us, and look to the future.

As a family, Stephanie added.

Clara shook her head, stunned. Why do I feel like Im stuck in some after school special, or something? A family. Another shot. Mistakes. What?

We never stopped loving each other, honey, Stephanie said, her tone soft with understanding.

Thats why neither of us ever filed. Just couldnt bring myself to do it. Max smiled down at Stephanie, getting a girlish googly-look back.

Whoa. Clara moved away from them, running a hand through her hair. I feel like Im in the Twilight Zone. A thought occurred to her, and she turned on them. Does Kerri know?

Max nodded. We told her and Zane during Thanksgiving dinner.

Clara truly wasnt sure what to feel. Should she feel betrayed that no one had told her? Should she feel hopeful that her parents were getting back together? Or, should she simply run and not allow herself to get caught up in hope. Hope was a dangerous, scary thing. Okay, she finally said, not coming to any sort of decision within her own torn emotions. Okay. So, congratulations I guess are in order. She hugged each in turn.

Thank you. Stephanie kissed her cheek then led her to the couch. Clara sat down, flanked by her parents. So, lets talk about you.

Clara blew out a breath, nodding. For a moment shed forgotten all about why she was there, but the realization came crashing quickly back down up on her, bringing kamikaze butterflies with it. Right. From your love life to mine. I think I pretty much said all I needed to say Thanksgiving. Im a lesbian, am in love with Shelby and we live together. She shrugged. End of story.

When did this happen? Stephanie asked.

When did what happen?

When did you become gay? Max asked.

Clara felt like she was in either a tennis match or an intense interrogation as she looked back and forth between her parents. She certainly did know that she felt trapped sitting between them.

I didnt become anything, Dad. Its not like becoming a diabetic, or becoming pregnant. Ive always been gay. Im just allowing myself to be me.

Honey, Stephanie began, choosing her words carefully. Were not trying to pick on you or make you angry. Were just trying to make sense of this. You have to admit, its pretty sudden.

Not really. I came out at fifteen.

Max looked away, running a hand across his beard. Was it because Jason was killed? he finally asked.

What does Jason have to do with this?

Well, it seems that after he died, you went pretty quickly to Erica, Stephanie said, picking a small piece of lint off of Claras coat.

Thats when I met her, Mom. No longer able to take the squeeze, Clara shot up, moving to pace in front of the coffee table, putting the low piece of furniture between them. Guys, you cant just boil this down to nuts and bolts parts and pieces. It just is. Im not gay to piss you off. Im not even gay to rebel. I like girls. I always have, I always will. She held up a hand to forestall what she knew her mother was about to say. I dont need to date guys to see if Im gay anymore than you needed to date girls to see if you were straight. Im asking you both to please respect me enough to know that I know whats best for me. Okay?

Stephanie and Max stared up at their daughter, too stunned to say anything. All they could do was nod dumbly.

Good. Now, Clara blew out, tell me about this re-marriage business.

Chapter 29

1996

Winter came, bringing the holidays with it, and then they went, bringing the end of a semester and sunny skies. Clara tossed her keys up into the air, catching them with gusto as she made her way to her car. Classes were officially over, and she felt great about how shed done. Over the past semester shed decided to listen to Shelby, and buckle down.

After everything that had happened with the situation in Kerri and Zanes house, Clara had been rocked to the core. Her emotional center had been hit hard, and she hadnt fully bounced back from it. So, she decided that maybe Shelby had something with the whole school thing. Maybe she did need to put the Medium stuff aside, and concentrate fully on her future. On their future. Shelby was the one, she was sure of it!

Finals were over, and she couldnt wait to get the results back. Her first semester in college she had pretty much bombed. Nothing had to be re-taken, but she could have done monumentally better. The second go around, well, the smile spread across her face said it all.

The drive to the apartment was slow, as midday traffic clogged the arteries of the city. They had begun to pack the previous weekend. They had decided a bigger place was in order. Clara had left her job with Cassandra at The Pagan, deciding to completely cut her ties with her old life. She needed space and distance from all of it. She no longer did readings for clients, instead re-directing her focus.

She had gotten a job with a hardware chain close to where their new place was, and was making two dollars more an hour there than she had been while working for Cassandra. The bigger wage had allowed her and Shelby to get a nice two bedroom apartment that was nearly double the size of their old one, and was in a better neighborhood.

The past seven months had flown by, it seemed. Clara had finally gotten used to the idea of her parents being back together, though it was strange to go home and see them both there, and not just a matter of her father over fixing something for Stephanie. Zane and Kerri still lived in the house over on Seacrest, and nothing had been said since the situation the previous fall. Zane certainly treated Clara better, but it was never talked about just exactly why.

She was just about to her exit when she decided to stop downtown and get Shelby something nice for the weekend. They had planned a romantic couple days, both having taken time off work for it.

Clara parked off of Main, deciding to walk down the main drag, which was lined with locally owned shops that carried that which couldnt typically be found in a Wal-Mart or mall.

The sidewalks were busy, other people getting the same idea as spring fever hit the city. Clara managed to avoid being gutted by a couple whose hands seemed to be welded together, and they werent budging. She saw a small shop that sold lingerie, and immediately got a mischievous grin on her face. Shelby had a magnificent body, and Clara loved to see it in satin.

She was about to push open the door when she noticed a woman out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw that the woman was balancing a package on one hip while trying to dig her keys out of her purse with her one free hand. Her car, an expensive-looking sports car, sat at the curb, its glossy red finish glittering in the sun.

Clara was about to turn away to head into the shop, but something stopped her. She turned back to the woman, and for no reason that she could figure, she ran over to her, grabbing her, and with a scream from the startled woman, nearly threw her back away from the street and her car. The woman landed on one knee, her package falling to the ground with the sound of breaking glass.

What are you doing?! she demanded, about to get to her feet.

Clara looked at the woman, just as startled as she was. She was about to apologize profusely when she felt a strange sensation along her right side  the side which was closest to the street  then a shove. She stumbled a few feet towards the shop front when a screeching rent the air. A moment later, the womans sports car was an explosion of glass and metal as an out-of-control pick up truck smashed into it, pushing the car onto the sidewalk, and exactly where the woman would have been standing.

Clara and the woman watched on in stunned silence, neither able to do much more than take their next breath. No one moved in the truck, the horn blaring, along with the sound of a distant car alarm.

Oh my god, Clara breathed, finally getting her bearings. She ran to the truck, shouting to anyone who was listening, Call 911!

The man in the truck was knocked unconscious, a nasty gash bleeding profusely on his forehead. Clara grimaced as the smell of blood assailed her senses. She reached in, checking for a pulse, relieved to find one. Past the driver, scattered on the floor of the large truck, were bottles of beer and a few of hard liquor. She looked back to the man unable to hide her feelings of disgust.

Is he dead? someone asked, standing behind Clara.

She shook her head. No. Just unconscious. She could hear the wailing of sirens getting closer, so took a step back, body trembling from the rush of adrenaline and fear. She could see the woman still standing on the sidewalk, her face pale. Are you okay? she asked. The woman looked at her blankly for a moment, then slowly nodded. It was only then that Clara noticed the expensive rings and clothing the woman wore. She looked to be in her later thirties, forty at most. Her auburn hair was piled high on her head, her gold and diamond earrings dangling like ice from her ears.

The woman seemed to finally really see Clara. How did you know?

Know what?

What was about to happen. I assume thats why you threw me onto the sidewalk like so much trash.

Im sorry about that. Something just told me to get you out of the way. Im sorry-

You saved my life, and thats not something I take lightly, the woman interrupted. She reached for her purse, which had also been thrown to the ground, digging until she found a piece of paper and pen. She looked at Clara expectantly. Name?

Uh, Clara Greenwold, Clara said automatically, unsure what the woman was doing.

And your phone number?

Clara hesitated, but the look on the womans face told her there was no room for argument. She gave her the number. Why?

Ill be in touch, the woman said, holding her heavily-ringed hand out. My name is Isabelle Van Wurt. Im in town with my husband. Hes doing business. Ill be in touch so I can take you to dinner and thank you. With that, the woman turned and walked away, not even bothering to salvage what was left of her package.

Do you think she intends to sue you or something? Shelby asked, winding noodles around her fork, splattering spaghetti sauce on her placemat with the action.

Clara shrugged. I sure as hell hope not. But, you cant get blood from a turnip, so



What a strange lady, Shelby muttered, placing her fork in her mouth.

What a strange incident, Clara thought to herself, but said nothing, instead focusing her attention on her dinner as Shelby changed the subject, prattling on and on about the project she had to do for her summer class. Clara half-listened, half-shut down. She had learned how to put herself into auto-pilot mode: she got up every morning, went to class without fail, listened and took notes, then came home and did homework, or did it in the library. Every day. Not thinking, and not really feeling.

She glanced up at her girlfriend  who was still talking  and studied her. Shelby was a beautiful girl, no one could deny that, including Clara. But as she looked at her, really looked at her, she saw a woman who was ambitious and a bit controlling. She saw a woman who wanted the best for Clara, but on Shelbys terms. She saw a woman who perhaps didnt accept Clara as much as Clara thought she did.

Looking back down at her dinner, Claras mind began to wander, reliving the events of earlier in the day once more. She hadnt allowed herself to feel or open up in such a long time that it had felt strange when shed pushed Isabelle Van Wurt out of harms way. She had to admit  if only to herself  that it had felt good. She had been holding herself back, trying to pretend her gift didnt exist. It was almost like someone who was drawn to numbers, a math genius. It was like that person trying to oppress their natural talents and abilities and inclinations by never looking at numbers, and if they did, they simply saw them as 1, 2 and 3, and not a puzzle to be solved by a brilliant mind that was wired to do just that.

She thought back to a few times at school when shed seen a spirit walking through the trees, or when shed heard her own voice spoken softly on the breeze. Shed ignored it, pushed it aside like it wasnt there. She smiled to herself as she suddenly had a mental image of herself, eyes squeezed shut, hands over her ears, La la la la la, I cant hear you! echoing in her mind.

Whats so funny? Shelby asked, realizing Clara wasnt listening, but instead seemingly sitting there chuckling down at her plate of pasta.

Clara looked at her with a small smile, shaking her head. Nothing. Nothings funny at all. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth before pushing back from the table.

Where are you going? Shelby asked, dinner forgotten.

Clara didnt look at her as she scraped the remnants of her dinner into the trash then rinsed her dish and loaded it into the dishwasher. Out for a while. I need some alone time.

Shelby was very aware of her girlfriends need for personal time and space, though it was never easy to deal with. She didnt understand it, but knew there was nothing she could say without starting a fight. Shed learned that the hard way. Even so, she felt this time it was different; something was wrong.

Did I make you mad or something? she asked, pushing back from the table, her chair screeching against the linoleum.

Clara sighed, not in the mood to do this now. She shook her head, looking at her from across the small kitchen. No. I just need-

To be by yourself, I know. Shelby couldnt keep the bitterness out of her voice. Youve needed to be by yourself more and more. She paused, hands on hips as she stared Clara down. Is there someone else?

Clara was taken aback by the question, and she immediately shook her head. Not even close. I swear.

Then what is it?

I need to go somewhere where I can be myself! Clara yelled, shocking both of them with the anger behind her words. She didnt want to say anything shed regret, so she grabbed her keys and wallet and headed out the front door.

The city was quiet as she drove around, her head wrapped in a fog. She wasnt sure where she was going, she just drove, her little car steady and sure. It was probably the most steady and sure thing she had in her life at the moment. Something was wrong inside, something missing. She couldnt put a finger on it, but it was beginning to haunt her, which she couldnt help but see as ironic since shed left the ghosts behind.

She thought about school, which she was doing well in, but didnt like. Shed allowed herself to be talked into getting a business degree, as Shelby said that no matter what Clara did in life, knowing how the business world worked would always come in handy. It seemed to make sense at the time, so Clara had gone with it. Now, as she drove around, she wondered if she was masochistic. She hated the business classes, even though she was taking them at a Freshman level. What about as she got further into the program? Theyd get harder and far more complex and in depth than what she was doing now. Not only that, but she didnt want to just do well because she had a good brain in her head and could go on auto-pilot and do the work. She wanted to actually enjoy what she was doing.

She stopped at a red traffic light and tapped her fingers on the wheel as she waited. She could change her major, maybe keep business as a minor, perhaps?

I hate business! she yelled in the empty car, slamming the steering wheel for emphasis. So what do I like? she pondered. She felt compelled to talk to her grandmother, get her advice, but she stopped herself. Part of her knew exactly what Rebecca would tell her. No, she said, shaking her head. I cant go back there again. Its not healthy for me. Shelbys right about that.

Clara heard a soft scraping sound and watched in astonishment as a small, blue bird landed on the hood of her car, its beady black eyes staring at her, first left, then right. She immediately felt Jasons presence with her, as though he were sitting in the passenger seat next to her.

What? she asked the bird, who did not react, nor did it fly away, even as Clara tried to shoo it away with a wave of her hand out her window. It continued to stare at her. Clara stared back, almost losing herself in the heat of the strange connection. She heard a car honk behind her, the bird flying away as she realized the traffic light had turned green.

Shaken, Clara drove on.

Shelby was long asleep by time Clara made her way to the bedroom. She undressed quietly, not wanting to wake her. She slid under the sheets, tired, but completely discontent. She lay in the dark for a long while, staring up at the ceiling, hands behind her head. She had noticed the note left by Shelby on the kitchen table when she came in. So Isabelle Van Wurt had called, huh? Clara had wadded the page up and tossed it into the trash.

She turned to her side, facing the window and nearly jumped out of her skin. Her grandmother stood there, looking down at her. Clara sat up, unable to take her eyes off of her. Rebecca smiled, amused before sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dont worry, she said in her usual soft tone. Shelby cant hear me. I need you to listen to me now, Clara, and take what I say to heart. Clara opened her mouth, but was silenced. No, Rebecca said, shaking her head. You listen now. You were given a gift for a reason, and its not to be wasted. Do you know why youre so unhappy?

Clara shook her head. No.

Because youre following the wrong path. Always remember that, Clara. You have a path, as does everyone. When you fall off that path, or go the wrong direction, depression and uncertainty will soon follow. She smiled, reaching a hand out to caress Claras hair. You dont need to search anymore, my love. You found your path and your path found you.

Clara felt her heart swell with comfort and confusion at her grandmothers visit. Its unhealthy for me, Grandma. Seeing dead people, talking to them



Says who? Its all about perspective. No one ever dies. The soul cant. The time in this life has simply finished. It doesnt mean that person doesnt still have a role to fulfill for those here on the earth plane. She dropped her hand, standing. Dont let others tell you what you should or shouldnt be doing. That, my love is whats unhealthy. You have a wonderful gift, and this life youre meant to use it.

Clara jerked up in bed, realizing she was alone. Her heart pounded with the adrenaline of the dream shed just had. She was completely alone in the bedroom, save for the sleeping form next to her. She looked over at Shelby, noting the way some of her hair had fallen onto her forehead.

Blowing out a breath, Clara laid back down, turning onto her side to face the window. She started when she noticed something on the nightstand beside the bed. She reached over to take it between her fingers, gasping quietly when she saw it was Shelbys note about Isabelle Van Wurt.

Chapter 30

Clara looked around the long car, never having been in a limo before. The tan interior was leather, the bar mahogany. Isabelle Van Wurt sat next to her on the long bench seat, her manicured hands clutched in her lap, and legs crossed like a proper lady. To say Clara felt like a hick from the sticks was as much of an understatement as there ever was.

You didnt have to go to so much trouble, Mrs. Van Wurt, she said, breaking the silence. The wealthy socialite looked over at her.

Well, I couldnt very well pick you up in my little car, now could I? Im afraid the damage was far more than the most talented mechanic could handle.

Clara smiled, but said nothing more. She wished she could have just met Isabelle and her husband  who would be joining them  in her own car. The limo pulled up in front of one of the most expensive hotels in town. Clara looked up at the giant building, trying to keep her reactions to a minimal. She remembered always looking at the gorgeous building when she passed it, wondering what it looked like inside, and what it would be like to stay in such a place.

My husband, Raymond, is waiting upstairs for us in our suite. I hope you dont mind, but weve ordered dinner to arrive there in, Isabelle checked her ladys Rolex, fifteen minutes.

Um, no. Thats fine. Clara smiled, but was actually about to choke on her nervousness.

The door next to Isabelle was opened and the uniformed chauffeur extended a gloved hand to help her out of the car. Next he helped Clara, who smiled shyly at him. Once out in the mild May air, Clara looked around, bending her neck back as she took in the ornate building that rose seventy stories above the sidewalk.

She followed Isabelle into the building, marveling at the marble floors  highly polished  and the expensive, heavy furnishings and décor. They made their way to the elevators, where a tuxedoed man asked which floor.

The penthouse, please, Isabelle said, digging her cardkey out of her purse.

Within moments they were walking down a dimly-lit hallway, where only two doors adorned either side. Isabelle led the way to the one on the left, inserting the keycard in the door, which beeped softly with a blinking green light.

The suite was larger than Clara and Shelbys entire apartment. She looked around, owl-eyed at the size and sophistication of the rooms. There was a huge bedroom, dining room and living room area, as well as two bathrooms. Deeper inside Clara could hear a deep, male voice talking. From the one-sidedness of the conversation, she figured he was on the phone.

Darling, were here, Isabelle called out, dropping her purse on the bar and making her way around to the business side. Would you care for a drink, Clara? she asked.

Oh, uh, no. Im not old enough, Clara said, feeling immediately stupid.

Isabelle, on the other hand, was completely amused. Thats not what I asked now, is it?

Clara grinned. Whatever youre having.

Thats more like it. Isabelle began to bring out bottles of various sizes and shapes and shades of liquor within. Clara had no idea what she was making, as shed never been much of a drinker.

Well, hello there! Raymond Van Wurt boomed from the opened doorway of the bedroom. His deep baritone filled the entire suite. He walked over to the bar where Clara had settled on a padded stool. His gelled hair shone in the overhead lights of the bar area. Im Raymond Van Wurt. You must be our new friend, Clara Greenwold. His extended hand was large and tan, a heavy gold pinky ring winking at her.

Yes, sir. Nice to meet you. Clara shook his hand, hiding her reaction at the tight grip he had. She wasnt entirely sure what to make of the Van Wurt couple. Shed never met anyone so rich before.

None of that. Call me Raymond or Ray. He made his way around the bar and placed a kiss on Isabelles cheek. Hello, sweetheart. Yes, perfect, he said to the drink she offered him. He took a long sip. I hope you ladies are hungry. I wasnt sure what you liked, Clara, so Ive ordered enough food to feed a small army. His laugh was as demanding as his voice. Come! He walked to the living room and sat on one of the massive leather sofas.

Doing as asked, Clara mirrored his position, drink in hand. She sipped it, recoiling from the strong taste of vodka. She heard Raymonds chuckle.

Careful with that. My wife has been known to add gasoline to her drinks.

Oh, stop, Isabelle said, sitting next to her husband. The couple looked at Clara, making her want to squirm in her seat.

So, Raymond began, getting down to business. It was always business for him. I understand you saved my wifes life from what could have potentially been a very messy situation. Quite lethal, too. He studied her, his head slightly cocked to the side. He didnt even flinch when someone knocked on the door to the suite. Without a word Isabelle got up to retrieve their dinner. Tell me, Clara. How did you know that car was coming?

Clara swallowed heavily, setting her drink down on the glass-topped table in front of her. She used the motion to stall for time to decide. She could tell him she simply heard or saw the truck coming. She could tell him she had a random hunch. She could tell him that she was simply crazy, and felt the need to tackle his wife to the ground, and got lucky that there happened to be an out-of-control truck coming at the same time.

Tell him the truth

Or she could tell him the truth.

I knew she was about to be hit, she finally said, catching Raymonds gaze.

How did you know that? he asked, sitting back and casually crossing one leg over the other.

I have abilities that

tell me things.

Raymond sat forward, completely intrigued. He raised a hand to ward off Isabelles invite to dinner. Tell me more.

Clara took a deep breath and started at the beginning, from her earliest memories of her gift as a child. Isabelle had taken her seat next to her Raymond again, both engrossed in what they were being told. None of the three cared that their dinner was cooling. Raymond didnt say a word or ask a question until Clara had finished her story.

He cleared his throat and sipped his drink. Who can you see about me? he asked, eyeing her in a challenge.

Clara was taken slightly aback, not expecting to be doing a reading, which she hadnt done in many months. Now?

Now.

Clara resettled herself, the hunger pangs in her stomach replaced by nervous butterflies. She felt a great deal of pressure suddenly placed on her shoulders, as though what she was about to do had high stakes for her future. She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on getting focused and opening up. Grandma, keep me strong and focused, she asked. As she took another cleansing breath, she felt a peace wash over her, as if shed done a reading only yesterday.

Looking at Raymond once again, she felt her mind opening up as information began to come in. Raymond and Isabelle watched as it seemed Clara was having a conversation with herself. Shed nod and mutter, Okay. Wait, say again? Isabelle looked at her husband only to get a shrug in return.

Okay, Clara said to Raymond. What is your connection to a red wagon? You know, the kind with a metal body, big black and white wheels with the little red knobs holding them on, she described, seeing the wagon in her mind.

Raymond looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what she was talking about. He was coming up blank. I havent the slightest.

Okay. The wagon image faded, one of a big brown dog in its place. Im seeing a dog. A very

 her voice trailed off as she got a better fix on it. big dog. Floppy ears with a blue collar.

Raymonds face paled slightly. That was my sons dog, Archie. He died when RJ was eleven. Then it hit Raymond. The wagon! I used to take RJ to the park in that wagon.

Clara barely noticed as Isabelle got up from the couch, leaving the room. Okay, good. Whoever is coming in keeps telling me to tell you about peach cobbler. With raisins.

Raymond let out a bark of laughter, nodding vigorously. RJ loved the stuff. My mother used to make it for him every time he went to her house.

Has your son crossed, Raymond? Clara asked gently, trying to get a hold on the situation. Raymond looked away for a moment, clearing his throat before nodding. Alright. Well, I think its him, then. RJ, give me one more thing to verify that its you.

Raymond watched anxiously. His son had been dead for thirteen years, and he hadnt expected to hear from him that day. In truth, as a skeptic, he hadnt expected to hear from anyone. His thoughts were interrupted by Claras next question.

Im hearing jangling, like either change in a pocket, or keys, Clara made the sound she was hearing as best she could. Does this ring any bells for you? She made the noise again.

Raymond nodded slowly. RJ always carried around a ring of keys, He worked in corrections.

I see. Clara stopped, another image taking over her entire focus. Im seeing a large tree. I mean, this thing is huge. She opened her arms to emphasize, still focused on the image in her mind. What does this tree have to do with anything? I cant get it out of my head.

Raymond shook his head, unsure.

Did he have a big tree in his yard? Like, dead center in the front?

Yes! Raymond said, remembering.

Okay, that must be it. Clara waited for the tree to disappear, but id didnt. Her brows drew. Something with this tree, Raymond. Typically when an image wont leave its because it has some sort of significant meaning that Im not getting. She looked at Raymond, hoping he could tell her something so she could move on. Was there someone hiding behind this tree?

Once again Raymonds face paled. He took a long swallow from his drink, nearly finishing it. The police said he was possibly taken by surprise.

Clara nodded. He was ambushed. Someone was hiding behind that tree, waiting for him. She felt her stomach clench as she realized where the reading was headed. Raymond, youre aware your son was murdered, right?

Yes. We never knew all the details, but we knew it was murder, yes.

Isabelle returned to the room, standing behind the couch her husband sat on, her hands resting on his shoulders. Her eyes were slightly red, as though shed been crying.

Clara didnt notice as her focus was once again turned inward. The tree faded, to her relief. Shed gotten it right. A very sudden, and very painful pain hit her in the back of the head. Her hand immediately went back to feel the spot, almost expecting blood to come back on her hand. She grimaced at the shock, then the pain disappeared as quickly as it had started. Did he have any bumps or cuts on the back of his head?

Isabelle nodded. Yes. He had extensive bruising at the back of the skull.

He was hit there. Id say knocked out.

Isabelle and Raymond looked at each other. That was never released in the media, she said quietly.

What else can you tell us about it? Raymond asked. He wasnt interested in new details, as he felt he knew enough to know what had happened to his son that night, but he wanted to know more of what Clara was capable of. A plan was already hatching in his head.

Kerri and Zane watched as Clara paced back and forth, her excitement palpable. Keris head was spinning from all that she was being told. Wait, wait, she said, waving her hands to get Claras attention.

What/ Clara stopped her pacing, looking down at her sister.

Let me get this straight. Youre telling me that this rich business guy from Los Angeles wants you to go back with them so you can do readings for his rich friends?

Clara stopped to think about it as put in such simplified terms. Yeah, she said, nodding. Thats about it.

Thats crazy, Clara, Zane said. What about here? School, your family-

Shelby? Kerri finished.

Clara plopped down on the couch, not wanting to think about any of those things, but she knew she had to. Shed made commitments to both her girlfriend and her classes. She ran a hand through her hair as she looked at her sister. Im torn, she finally admitted, slapping her hands on her thighs.

What are you torn about? Zane asked. Youve got it pretty good here.

But Im not happy, she countered. I havent been for awhile, Zane. Im trying to live a life that isnt meant for me.

Leaving your family and everything youve ever known to move to California is? Kerri asked, brows raised in challenge.

I cant stay here forever, Kerri. I happen to know for fact that you and Zane have wanted to move to Oregon for years.

Thats different. We both have college degrees and jobs to go to.

And I dont? Clara asked, hand to her own chest. Isnt that what Raymond Van Wurt offered me?

Kerri was silent, knowing that Clara had gotten her on that one. She looked to Zane, hoping he could maybe talk some sense into her little sister. It wasnt that she didnt want her to find her happiness, but she had hoped she could find it locally.

Thats crazy, Zane said. You dont even really know this guy, Clara. He could be a nut, or he could totally stand you up once you get there. Besides, he said, brows drawn. I thought you were a dyke?

Clara rolled her eyes. He wants to get me jobs, Zane, not fuck me. She was amused as Zane turned away, embarrassed.

Regardless, he has a point, Clara. Who is this guy? How do you know he wont hurt you, or get you into a bad situation?

I dont, Clara said simply, meeting Kerris gaze head on.

Then why consider it?

Why not? Besides, Clara said, popping up from the couch again. Whos to say what Ill end up doing at all. She grabbed her keys from the coffee table where shed dropped them when shed come in thirty minutes before. Shed had Isabelle drop her off at her sisters house after the evening ended. Kerri, can you give me a ride home?

Kerri was quiet on the way to the apartment. Clara glanced over at her from time to time, but said nothing, either. Kerri pulled up in front of the apartment complex and turned to her little sister.

Youre not happy, are you?

Clara shook her head. No.

Is this really the right thing to do? Its a huge chance youd be taking.

Clara sighed heavily. I dont know, Kerri. Im not telling you Im going to do it, but tonight made me realize that I need to do something. Im not happy: I hate school, I hate my job, and Im not happy with Shelby anymore. She looked at her sister. She doesnt get it. Doesnt get me.

Kerri chuckled. Very few do, Clara. I do hope you can find someone someday who does. Maybe go find another psychic or something.

Medium, thank you very much. Ill try that. Maybe theres MediumMatch.com or something. The sisters laughed at that. No, but seriously. Im not happy with one single aspect of my life.

Kerri blew out a breath and was silent for a moment. I dont know. Maybe heading out is the right thing for you. Maybe you need to go out and find yourself somewhere, other than here.

Clara looked at her. Do you mean that?

Kerri nodded. Yeah. Dad will be pissed, and mom will be devastated if you leave. You do know that, right?

Clara nodded. Itll be a fight with him, I know. She chuckled. He had to fight so hard to get me to go to school, and now I just want to leave it all behind. I dont belong there, Ker. I never did. It was a waste of time and money. She scrubbed her face with her hands. Ugh. I dont know. I think the answer will just come to me one day. Until then, she shrugged. I think Im pretty much stuck.

Youre never stuck, kiddo. Well, at least no more than you make yourself be. Ultimately you hold the reins. No one else.

Clara leaned over and hugged her sister. Thank you.

The apartment was quiet as Clara made her way inside. A glance at the clock on the wall told her it was nearly eleven. She headed to the bedroom, surprised to see the bed unslept in. She turned on the light, looking for any sign that Shelby had been there recently, but found none. Nor did she find a note anywhere in the apartment.

Clara felt numb as she walked through the empty rooms, looking at a sea of material things that meant little to her. As she walked back into the bedroom, she realized that it all seemed so foreign to her. Like somehow shed gone to meet with the Van Wurts and came back a stranger in a strange land.

Reaching into her pocket, Clara pulled out the piece of paper Raymond had given her, his personal phone number scribbled on it. She studied the unfamiliar numbers for a moment then grabbed the cordless phone off the dresser.

She waited for several moments until the line was picked up. Okay, Raymond. I accept your offer.

Absolutely not! Max Greenwold roared, face red. He shook his head. its not going to happen, Clara.

Clara looked at her father, her own anger building. Says who? she asked. Im twenty years old. Hardly your ward anymore.

No, but you did ask for my blessing in this, he retorted, hands on hips.

Clara shook her head. No. I asked your opinion. Very different thing than your blessing.

Max threw his hands up in exasperation, storming from the room, leaving a hurt and angry Clara and a calm Stephanie behind. Stephanie moved over to where her daughter sat on the couch, her face as red as her fathers had been. Sitting next to her, she knocked her playfully with her shoulder until Clara met her gaze.

You have no idea how much the two of you are alike, she said. Or how much he loves you.

He cant control me, Mom, Clara said, doing her best to bring her tone down a notch. Her anger wasnt directed at Stephanie, and she had no desire to inadvertently pass it to her.

I know, and I dont think thats what his intention is. Your dad has never been good at talking things out, Clara. You know that. The problem is, not only is he worried about you, but hes about to lose his baby girl.

Clara stared at her mother, surprised. That had never even entered her mind. What?

You two got pretty close when you were living with him, honey. He doesnt want to lose you, and he feels that by you moving to another state  regardless of the reason  hell be losing you. You could be moving because you got a job as an aerospace engineer, making two hundred thousand dollars a year, and he still wouldnt want you to go.

Then why doesnt he just say that? Clara asked, exasperated.

Stephanie grinned. Because hes a man, Clara. That would make far too much sense.

Clara burst into laughter, glad to be letting go of some of the tension inside her. She nodded in understanding. So what do I do?

Nothing. Stephanie hugged her and placed a kiss on her forehead. Just let him come to you. I dont want to see you go, either, but youre a big girl. I know better than to try and stop you. All I can do is pray weve taught you enough for you to make smart decisions, and that you always know you have somewhere to go if things dont work out as you hope they will.

Clara felt her hest expand with love and gratitude as she hugged her mother tight. They clung to each other for long moments, knowing this was it. Tomorrow Clara would be driving her loaded car halfway across the country to an unknown future.

Chapter 31

Clara looked on in amazement as the palm trees passed by, their huge fronds dancing slightly in the late spring ocean breeze. She was in held in good company of average cars, such as her own, as well as BMWs, expensive sports cars, and even a Rolls Royce, as she drove along the Pacific Coast Highway. She reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed the computer print out that had the directions to the house on it. She was headed to the Van Wurts home in Malibu.

She passed by houses to her left that lined the coast, deceiving in the size portrayed on the PCH. On the beach below, their true splendor was revealed. Clara slowed, pulling off the side of the road to let a cab-yellow Hummer pass who was riding her tail as shed slowed to try and read the house addresses. Once the Hummer had passed  with the blare of a frustrated horn  she continued, eventually finding what shed been looking for.

The Van Wurts house was amazing, even from the PCH! The Two-story structure was gated, so Clara stopped in front of the wrought-iron, looking inquisitive as she studied the speaker box with a keypad built in.

Can I help you? a disembodied voice squawked, making Clara jump.

Yes. Clara Greenwold, she said, hoping she didnt have to push any sort of button to allow her to communicate.

One moment.

There was a moment of silence before the gate slowly swung open, allowing her to pull onto the grounds of the estate. The front of the house was all glass and modern steel. There was an orange Ferrari parked to one side and a black Mercedes next to it.

Clara blew out a breath, feeling quite unsubstantial in her beat up old Honda. She unbuckled her seatbelt and drew her courage around her and headed out of the car.

A woman answered the ring of the doorbell within moments, smiling graciously at Clara, who stood on the massive front stoop, feeling very small.

Good afternoon, Miss Greenwold, the woman said, stepping aside to allow her in. My name is Margaret, and Ill take you to Mr. Van Wurt.

Thank you, Clara said quietly, following who she assumed was the maid. The inside of the house was just as grandiose and contemporary as the outside. Metal sculptures dotted the hall and rooms, along with modern art: huge canvases filled with raucous color that made absolutely no sense to Clara, whatsoever.

She was led through a maze of rooms and stairwells, the sound of surf getting closer with every corner turned. It wasnt long before the booming voice of Raymond Van Wurt could be heard, as well. He was talking to someone, their quieter, higher-pitched tone heard from time to time, though it was obvious Raymond held the lions share of the conversation.

Clara stepped out onto what was the top level of a multi-level deck made of steel that led down to the private beach below. Raymond sat in a chair, bare feet up on the rail of the matte finish of the metal, sunglasses hiding his dark, watchful eyes. The sun made his gelled hair gleam as it beat down on the top of his head. His companion, however, sat underneath the slate-gray umbrella, his face in shadow, though Clara could tell he was much younger than the fifty-something Raymond.

Mr. Van Wurt, Miss Greenwold has arrived, Margaret announced, heading back into the coolness of the house, her job complete.

Raymonds feet hit the floor of the deck with a slap of bare skin against rubber  meant to keep the metal cool on hot days. Clara! he boomed, pushing up from his chair and hurrying over to her.

Clara accepted his enthusiastic hug. Sorry Im a little late. Got lost.

No worries, no worries. Tanner, Id like you to meet my newest find, Clara Greenwold. Clara and the visitor shook hands. Clara, this is Tanner Roth, star of my newest venture, Starplay, airing on Sci-Fi next month.

Nice to meet you, Clara, Tanner said, looking her up and down from behind the mirrored lenses of his Oakleys.

Nice to meet you, too, she said, feeling somewhat shy and on display. He was handsome enough, certainly with the good looks of a starring role, but she got the slime factor from him. Once theyd shaken hands, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans and took a step back.

Ill let you get to it, Ray, Tanner said, turning to the older man. Thanks for the chat.

Absolutely. He turned to Clara. Make yourself comfortable. Ill send Margie out to get your order. He turned to Tanner, slapping him on the shoulder. Ill walk you out.

Clara walked to the railing, leaning her forearms on it. She had expected the metal to be hot, but it was cool. Looking down at it, she realized it was treated with some sort of plastic coating, which left it smooth and shiny, even though it had the matte finish beneath it.

Are you hungry, Miss Greenwold? Margaret asked from behind her. She had her hands clasped together, head slightly tilted to the side as she waited patiently for Claras order.

Um, yeah. Actually I am.

What can I get you?

Do you have lunchmeat? Clara asked, somewhat unsure of what to say.

The older woman hid a smile as she nodded. What kind, Miss?

Cara. Please call me Clara. And turkey? Maybe wheat bread, turkey and American cheese?

Mayonnaise, mustard, relish

?

Um, Mayo and mustard, hold the relish, Clara said, scrunching her nose.

This time Margaret did smile. Lettuce, tomato? Pickles? Sprouts?

Oh. Lot of choices. Um, put whatever you want on there, I guess.

Margaret nodded, her blue eyes twinkling in amusement as she headed back inside. Clara turned her attention back to the view beyond the house and deck. Below, down the beach she could see two people throwing a Frisbee around, a large black dog barking as it tried to chase the bright orange disc. Clara smiled, amused at the animals antics. She turned her focus back to the water, having never been to the ocean before.

Pretty amazing, isnt it? Raymond asked, stepping up beside her.

Clara nodded then turned to her host. Its nice to see you again, Raymond.

You, too, he said with a genuine smile. Im also very glad youve taken me up on my offer. I think we could be good for each other. He leaned one forearm on the railing, turning to look at Claras profile. Did you have a good drive out?

Clara nodded. Yeah. I think it was good for me, helped to clear m head and prepare.

Prepare? Do you think you need to prepare to do what you were born to do?

Cara shook her head, mirroring Raymonds position. No, but I do need to prepare for the fact that Ive uprooted my entire life, packed everything that would fit into my car into my car, and getting rid of everything else. Its a huge step for me.

Raymond nodded, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into the loose-flitting button up shirt he wore. It reminds me of when I was about your age. Isabelle and I packed up our VW van, and drove from New Jersey to Santa Barbara. Scariest thing Ive ever done, to be honest.

And it worked out? Clara asked, her voice small.

Raymond nodded. In time, yes. Ive had some of the best moments of my life here in California, and some of the worst, as you can attest to by what you saw during my reading.

Clara nodded, remembering all too well what Raymond and Isabelle had endured by the murder of their son.

But thats life, isnt it?

That it is.

Your lunch, Clara, Margaret said, setting down an elaborate sandwich, piled high with fixings, as well as a chilled can of Coke next to a tall glass of ice. Would you are for chips, veggies or anything on the side? the older woman asked, taking the same stance of hands clasped, head slightly tilted to the side.

Chips, please.

With a nod, Margaret hurried into the house, happy to serve.

Shes been with us for eighteen years now, Raymond said, joining Clara at the table. Can you believe that?

Not sure what to say, Clara merely smiled, trying to figure out how she was going to get the sandwich into her mouth.

Raymond took his former position of bare feet on the rail, though this time he was under the shade of the umbrella with his guest. He watched her eat for a moment, then got down to business. As promised in the deal, the guest house is all set up for you, so you can move in today if you like. As I recall, the deal was you stay there as you build your clientele, then its up to you where youd like to go. I have a list of people for you, which Ill share with you later.

Clara nodded, butterflies settling in her stomach at the thought of doing readings for a bunch of rich, famous people. She had to force herself to swallow the large bite shed taken. Wiping her mouth with the provided napkin Margaret had left when shed brought a separate bowl of chips, Clara prepared to speak.

Do you want me to do the readings in the guest house?

Raymond shook his head, running a manicured hand across the soft cotton of his pants. Nope. Ive set aside space in the offices of Van Wurt Industries in downtown L.A. You can go in with me every morning, or go in when you have an appointment. Up to you. From what Ive heard, its not a good idea to have readings in someones personal living quarters. He rested his gaze on her. Is that true?

Clara thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Makes sense. Ill go in with you, if thats okay.

Sure.

The guest house was nearly as large as Claras childhood home, though all on one level instead of three. She tried to hide her reactions as Margaret showed her around. Two employees of the Van Wurts were busy carrying in everything from her car, placing them in the rooms Clara directed them to.

Is there anything else I can get for you? Margaret asked expectantly.

Clara shook her head. Thank you.

Left alone in her new home, she turned in a slow circle, not sure what to feel or think. Should she think she was the luckiest woman in the world, with the chance of a lifetime at her feet? Or, was she simply a fool walking into a viper pit? She liked Raymond a lot, and Isabelle was okay, too, but something told her that they were only nice when they were getting what they wanted out of someone or something. Would they tire of her?

Clara pushed negative thoughts out of her head as she made her way to the bedroom, which overlooked the ocean. She pushed the windows wide open, allowing the evening breeze. She wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of saltwater and sea life. She hoped shed get used to it.

The house was decorated in muted, yet tasteful colors and fabrics, meant to be neutral enough for anyones tastes, yet still be elegant in their appointment. She wandered into the kitchen, somewhat smaller in proportion to the rest of the house, but still filled with all the latest gadgets and gizmos that made modern-day cooking easy and efficient. The cabinets were filled with the basic staples, leaving room for anything special Clara might want.

Impressed, but completely full from Margarets Dagwood-like sandwich, Clara left the room, curious to check out the rest of the house without Margarets watchful gaze on her. Not that she intended on doing anything wrong, but shed always prized her privacy above just about all else.

That had been one argument Kerri had made against Clara taking Raymonds offer. In the life she had now launched herself into, there would be little privacy or alone time. Raymond had made it very clear that she was there as a business prospect to him, and though hed help her a great deal to get settled and established, he expected complete loyalty to him and his business. She would single-handedly be establishing a new area of his entertainment division for Van Wurt Industries. He had mentioned a television series in passing once, which of course brought to mind images of Medium Sylvia Brown on Montel Williams every Wednesday afternoon.

Grandma, that would just be cruel, she muttered having no interest in sharing such a personal thing with millions of people at once. What she did was part of a gift, nut a spectacle.

The offices of Van Wurt Industries in downtown Los Angeles were impressive: all modern steel and glass, much like the house in Malibu. She rode the elevator with an Armanid Raymond. She felt rather underdressed in a simple pair of slacks and blouse, though he told her she looked fine. She wasnt, after all, there for a board meeting, he reminded her.

The area that had been set up for her readings was a modest, but nice office with a seating area: couch and overstuffed chair. A desk was set back in the corner, next to the large office. There was nothing on the desk, as the office was unused, so was not outfitted for office work.

Will this do? Raymond asked, giving a hopeful look to his newest acquisition.

Clara looked around and nodded. Yeah. Its perfect.

Great. Oh! I almost forgot. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a black cell phone with a yellow sticky note attached to the small bar phone. This is for you. Your new number is written on the sticky. Dont worry about the time you use it. He smiled charmingly. I figured you might want a way to call your family back home, as well as any new friends you make here. Also, this will be your business phone. Clients can call you at that number.

Clara took the phone, never having used a cell phone before in her life. Wow, she breathed. Thank you.

Absolutely! Good luck today, and do me proud. Raymond gave her a smile and a wink, then was out the door, leaving her alone in her new office to contemplate her new position.

She walked over to the window, looking down at the busy streets far below. Damn, thats far, she whispered. Turning away, she looked out over the office again, deciding how she would handle the readings. Her gaze was drawn to the seating area with the designer furniture that looked about as comfortable as the futon she and Shelby had at the old apartment.

Shelby. She sank down onto the chair as she thought about her ex. For just a moment she wished she were back at the apartment with her. Clara felt terribly out of her element in Lost Angeles with Raymond and Isabelle and all their flashy cars and houses. At least with Shelby, she knew where she stood, and who she was.

No you didnt, Clara, she whispered to herself, setting the cell phone down on the glass table next to the chair. You only thought you did. She blew out a breath and thoughts of Shelby and being homesick. Shed made her choice, and had to stand with it. Give it a chance.

Excise me? said a soft, male voice followed by a knock on the opened office door.

Clara shot to her feet to see a slight man standing in the doorway. He looked to be around thirty, his black hair cut short and sprinkled over his forehead. Smiling blue eyes met her gaze. Hi. Clara felt a bit sheepish, taken by surprise.

Hi. I think Im your next appointment, the man said, taking a hesitant step into the room.

Well, youre my first, actually, Clara said with a small smile. Please come in. Close the door.

The man did as asked, then turned to her for further instructions. She could tell he was very nervous, which actually helped her to feel a bit better about the situation.

My name is Mike James, he said, holding out a pale hand toward Clara, who took it. She looked him in the eye, as he wasnt much taller than she was.

Nice to meet you, Mike. Im Clara. They sat down, Mike on the couch, Clara in the chair. She couldnt help but feel like she was about to facilitate a psychiatric therapy session. She pushed the thought away with a small smile. So, what can I help you with today?

Forty-three minutes later, Clara sat on the couch next to Mike, a Kleenex held lightly between her fingers. He smiled gratefully as he plucked the tissue from her and wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

Are you okay? she asked softly, wanting to give the poor guy a hug.

Mike nodded, giving her a weak smile. I didnt expect him to come through. Ive always felt so guilty about what happened. He blew out a loud breath, much of the tension and emotion from the reading leaving his body. I can tell you I never played ball next to an ocean again.

Clara smiled with a small nod. Im sure. Your brother knew you never meant to send him running into the undercurrent, Mike. He flat out said so.

Mike raised his face to the ceiling for a moment, eyes closed as if in silent conversation with a brother long-dead. He nodded, seeming to get himself together. Yes. He forgives me, regardless of how much he said there was nothing to forgive. He looked at Clara again. I needed to hear that from him.

He knew that. Thats why he came today, instead of your grandfather, who you expected.

Mike studied her for a long moment, then a smile lit up his handsome features, baby blues sparkling. You want to get a beer with me tonight?

Clara stuttered, not sure what to say. Uh, well. My girlfriend is at home, waiting, you know

 her voice trailed off.

A bark of laughter erupted from him. Thats okay. So is my boyfriend.

Clara joined him in laughter, now wondering why she hadnt sensed it in him. Well, in that case, I was lying about a girlfriend, and Id love to have a beer with you. She leaned into him to whisper conspiratorially, But Im only twenty.

Mike grinned. I dont have a boyfriend, either, and thats okay. Well get a Coke. He pushed up off the couch, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. It was a pleasure to meet you, Clara, and youre a very gifted Medium.

Thank you. Clara also stood, extending her hand out to him.

Mike looked down at her hand, then ignored it, grabbing her in a tight hug, his slight form stronger than it appeared. Thank you so much, he whispered into the hug.

Clara nodded, a feeling of satisfaction and contentment spreading through her. They parted and Mike handed her a business card.

Call me when youre finished here. Theres a great little place around the corner from here.

Clara glanced down at the card before tucking it into her pants pocket. Will do. She walked him to the door of the office, surprised to see a woman with a raised hand, about to knock on the other side.

Guess your next client is here, Mike said with a wink, then stood aside, allowing the woman to enter. With a final smile and a wave, he was gone.

Chapter 32

The noise level was high as Clara and Mike found themselves a table. Happy hour had started, so the pub was filling up quick. Clara looked around, noting the old West-style theme of the pub, which amused her. So much of what shed seen during her short time in the area was very new and contemporary. Modern in every way. It was kind of nice to see a bit of a throwback.

What will you have? Mike asked, leaning in close to be heard over a raucous group of men who had just passed.

A Coke is fine, Clara said, which Mike relayed to the waiting waitress, who quickly disappeared in the gathering throngs. Clara wasnt sure why Mike had brought her to such a busy, loud place. As though reading her thoughts, he leaned towards her again.

It quiets down fast.

They sat in silence for a moment as their drinks arrived. Mike outfitted his Bloody Mary with pepper as Clara watched, a little disgusted. She hated tomato juice by itself, let alone with alcohol thrown in. As promised, the noise began to calm a bit, so Mike began to talk.

So, how long have you known Ray and Belle?

Clara chuckled. Just a little longer than Ive known you.

Mike stared at her. Are you crazy? Didnt you move here from the Midwest somewhere, or something?

Yep. I packed up my little piece of crap car, and drove out after Raymond offered me basically a job to do the readings. She shrugged. It felt like the right thing to do, crazy or not.

I must say, I think you have bigger balls than I do.

Clara laughed, I certainly hope not, or youre pretty much screwed.

They talked on, Clara learning that Mike had been born and raised in the area, his father a Real Estate mogul, which left Mike with a pretty charmed life, though he didnt go into the family business. Instead, after college, he struck out on his own path, finding success in the art world. Though not an ounce of artistic creativity in his fingers, his mind was brilliant, and his creative talent was in the art of making money. He had opened his first gallery in New York in 1989, and had since opened one in San Francisco, Ft. Lauderdale, and finally one in West Hollywood. Hed lived in New York and then Florida to get the two galleries going, but had finally gone back home to California, where he now lived.

So, let me get this straight, Mike said, pushing aside the empty glass of his second Bloody Mary. He was leaning forward on his crossed forearms. Youre telling me you walked away from a college education - flat walked away from it  to come out here? he asked. To fulfill a job offer from a man you didnt even know?

That would be correct, Clara nodded, sipping from her third Coke and reaching to nab a chip from the basket of nachos theyd ordered to share. She had filled him in on the past twenty years of her history.

Why? his question was filled with the passion of a slightly buzzed man, passionate about education and building a future. Clara couldnt help but think that Mike and Shelby would get along wonderfully.

Because thats not what I wanted, she said simply, popping a fallen black olive into her mouth. I wasnt happy in school, wasnt happy with my girlfriend, and knew I needed to make a change. I squashing too much of myself by trying to fit into their view of what my life should be. She shook her head. Never again.

Mike thought for a moment, mulling over what hed just been told, then smiled, nodding with approval. Good for you, Clara! That took guts. He raised his glass in salute, Clara clinking her own against it.

Cheers.

Weeks turned into months as Clara was set up with client after client. Most  at first anyway  were people that Raymond knew. They were people with lots of money who wanted a shot at the new show in town. Many were skeptics at the start, but Clara took personal delight in changing that within moments. Sometimes she would even show off a bit, share embarrassing little snippets that were whispered in her ear, or things that shed pick up from handling a personal item of the person.

One thing she had to say about the rich and powerful, they certainly tipped well. She made more on their tips in one day than she had in a month working long hours at either of her jobs back home.

After awhile Clara began to bring in her own clientele, either people Mike knew, or the lady she would happen to start talking to in line at the grocery store. Those were her favorite clients. They were the Everyman; the ones who couldnt afford much, but who needed the comfort more than anyone else. So many needed to know that they would be okay, and that their sometimes-stark, difficult lives were worth it in the end. Clara often spent her weekends with these clients, and sometimes during the weekday 9-5. She had to be careful with that, though.

She was never given an actual schedule for the day, per her request. She didnt want to know names or any information of who was to visit her. Her readings tended to be less on the more she knew, as typically the spirit would give what she called Identifiers. Those were small tidbits for the client to identify who had come to speak to them. The more she knew, the harder she and the spirit had to work for the information.

Before Clara knew it the holidays were once again coming around. She thought about where shed been the previous Thanksgiving, the day shed come out to her parents in a big way. She smiled at the memory as she sat in the guest house she was staying in. She relaxed on the couch, looking out over the ocean. The moonlight had turned the crashing waves into blue and white-crested beings that pounded the shore, as though battling an unknown foe.

Her thoughts drifted away from the sea outside back home to her family. She hadnt seen any of them in four months, though kept weekly phone contact with them. Her father was still angry with her, but she hoped hed get over it and try and understand. Though she were miles from home, and in a world that was unlike anything shed ever known, she was happier than shed ever been.

Clara was brought out of her musings by a knock at her door. She set down the cup of coffee shed been drinking and padded over, unlocking and pulling the door open. Raymond stood on the other side, still dressed in the slacks and shirt from his suit that day, though the jacket and tie were gone.

Hi, he said.

Hey, Ray. Come on in. Though it was hers for the time being, Clara always felt like she had to defer to Ray when he showed up at the guest house. Hed never said or done anything to make her feel that way, but there was an air of power and control to him that made her uncomfortable. She didnt like controlling people, nor to be controlled, but she had to admit Raymond did intimidate her.

On the flip side of that coin, Raymond stepped just inside the door, looking around the room, but going no further, trying to respect Claras privacy. Mind if I come in for a minute? he asked, indicating the couch.

Please. Clara led the way, Raymonds Gucci shoes clapping softly on the hardwood floor. Can I get you something?

No, thats okay, he said, waving off her offer.

Okay. Clara sat on the chair while Raymond sat dead center in the couch. He clapped his hands on his knees, smiling brightly. Is everything okay? she asked, feeling somewhat nervous.

Yes. Fine. We hadnt had much of a chance to speak lately, what with me being in Tokyo for the past month and everything. I just wanted to touch base with you, see how things are going. He eyed her expectantly, his dark eyes missing nothing.

Its going well. Steady clients, and Ive been seeing a few on my own-

I heard about that, he interrupted, voice still light. Thats actually one thing I wanted to talk to you about, but, well get to that. Again he waved off the topic as though it were an annoying housefly. Clara really began to feel nervous. Tell me about this wedding. Your parents second I hear.

Clara nodded, surprised to be asked about it. She realized in that moment that shed best not talk to anyone in Raymonds office about anything remotely serious. Shed mentioned the wedding to a woman shed met in the cafeteria the week before. She had no idea where the woman worked or what she did, just that theyd chatted while they ate. Yes, she finally said.

Thats great news. I wish them well. Im assuming youll want to go back for the event?

Yes. I was going to talk to you about that when you got back from your trip.

Here I am! Raymond smiled, opening his arms wide. Lets talk about it. When do you need to go, and for how long? He pulled a small tablet of paper from his pocket, clicking the pen to life that hed grabbed off her coffee table.

Oh, uh, Clara stuttered, glancing at his waiting hand. The actual wedding day is December 20th. I was hoping that maybe I could just stay the whole week, have Christmas with my family.

Raymond had begun to write before Clara was even finished, her gaze following the marks. Clara will be gone December, he glanced up at her, brows raised in approval, fifteenth, perhaps? Give you a chance to be fitted, as Im sure youll be part of the wedding party. At Claras nod he returned to his notes. Back on December twenty-sixth. Again he glanced up at her, as though her really needed to ask her permission. Doable?

Clara nodded, thrilled that he was being so understandable about it. Thats great, Raymond, thank you.

Her gave her an encouraging smile as he clicked the pen and handed it to her, tucking the pad back into his pocket. Im a business man, Clara. Not a monster. He reclined back onto the couch, one arm running the length of the back and an ankle brought over one knee. Now, that said, lets talk about your extra clients.

Is it a problem? she asked, her palms suddenly beginning to sweat.

I think problem is entirely too strong of a word, but concern, perhaps might be a bit more accurate.

Clara swallowed, waiting for whatever Raymond would send her way. She felt like shed been called to the principals office, caught ditching class or something.

You see, Clara, as I said, I am a business man, which means I provide various types of business to clients. Your gifts happen to be one of those types of services that I deal in. When I hear that one of those clients has to wait outside your office for fifteen minutes while you finish up with one of your personal per projects, that concerns me. He paused, making sure he had her full attention. Though hed never once raised his voice above a conversational tone, Clara felt like she was being fully and truly chastised. Now, you look like youre about to tremble out of your socks, but let me reassure you; thats not necessary. His smile returned. This is the first time its happened, and Im confident the last.

Clara nodded, swallowing again. Im sorry, Raymond.

He held up a large hand. No need to apologize. I know youre a very generous person who only wants to help people. After all, thats how you ended up here with us, isnt it?

Again Clara nodded.

Alright, then. Its been discussed, alls well, no harm. So, he said, tone bright and filled with question. I understand youve been spending a great deal of time with Michael James. I have to say, since you bought your own car, Ive missed driving into work together. I dont get to hear the  what do kids call it today  skinny on whats going on in your life.

Other than what you hear from your spies, Clara couldnt help but think, her thoughts tinges with the bitterness of betrayal. She shoved it down, knowing Raymond wasnt the man to complain to. Yeah, Mike and I spend a lot of time together. Is that okay?

Os course! Michael is a great guy. Ive done lots of business with him over the years. I wouldnt get your hopes up, though, he said, voice dropping conspiratorially. Hes gay. He winked at Clara, and something inside her told her he knew damn well that she was, too.

Ill keep that in mind, she said instead.

Wise. Ive gone to dinner with him several times, and even to a few sporting events. The man loves boxing. I do dislike when he gets into one of his depressed modes, however, he said, brows drawn in thoughtful contemplation. But, Im sure you have more patience for that kind of thing than I do. He slapped his hands on his knees again, marking his intent to leave. So, anything else?

Clara shook her head. Nope. I think that just about covers everything.

Excellent. Raymond got to his feet and headed for the door, followed by Clara. He turned to her before stepping out. Youre doing a wonderful job for me, Clara. Ive heard many, many wonderful things about you and your marvelous gifts. He smiled, kind and genuine. Im glad I managed to snag you before anyone else found you.

Clara smiled back, feeling warm and fuzzy at such a wonderful compliment. Thank you, Raymond. I am, too.

Good night, Clara.

Chapter 33

For the fifth time in as many minutes Clara adjusted the pearl choker she wore with her dress. Not only wasnt she used to wearing dresses, but she wasnt used to wearing necklaces, either. Especially ones that threatened to cut off her air supply.

Stop fidgeting, Kerri admonished through a clenched teeth smile.

Clara forced herself to stop messing with the necklace. She had this horrible vision of her inadvertently breaking the strand, sending hundreds of tiny pearls sweeping across the sanctuary. She cleared her throat, instead focusing on the couple walking towards them now.

Stephanie was breathtaking in her ivory satin gown, simple yet elegant. After all, she said, theyd been there before, so didnt need anything over the top. She was on the arm of her brother, who looked proud and handsome in his black tux with ivory tie and vest. The man of the hour, however, was Claras father. Max stood proud and strong, awaiting his bride. Again. He was clean cut, hair trimmed and looking more handsome than ever.

Max Greenwold was a bitter/sweet thing for Clara at the moment. Shed gotten into town five days before, and though Kerri and her mother had been overwhelmed in their excitement to see her and welcome her home, Max had been quiet and somewhat distant. Clara had hoped that the time apart would help him to overcome his issues, but it didnt seem to be. Clara knew they needed some serious one-on-one time, and she intended to do just that after the wedding. Her parents werent leaving on their week-long honeymoon for another two weeks, so she had time before she headed back to California.

In the meantime, she cleared her mind of anything negative, as she wanted the day to be special for her parents, and wanted them to have as good a shot  as it would probably be their last  at making it this time.

Stephanie reached her husband-to-be (although the ceremony was more about renewing their vows since divorce proceedings had never taken place), looking like a young and fresh woman, looking forward to the rest of her life. At nearly forty-four years old, Stephanie was still beautiful and vibrant.

Clara saw out of the corner of her eye as Kerri wiped at a tear, which of course made Clara nearly lose it herself. She turned her focus back to her parents, who now were instructed to join hands. As she watched the beautiful ceremony unfold, Clara couldnt help but feel almost wistful. She wondered if shed ever get a chance for such love. Shed struck out twice already, though she did realize she was still very young. All the same, she wished she knew exactly where her future lay.

No sooner did the thought cross her mind before she felt compelled to look to her right, out into the crowd of gathered well-wishers. A small gasp escaped Claras lips when she saw Abby Jensen sitting in the third row, a peaceful smile on her face. Her eyes were riveted on the happy couple, as were everyones  including the dark-haired man who sat very close to her.

Clara was jolted from her shock when Kerri gave her a small nudge. Clara looked at her only to feel embarrassment as quiet laughter filled the sanctuary. She turned to see her mother and the minister looking at her expectantly.

The ring? the minister asked, a smile in his voice.

Oh. Feeling oh-so-stupid, Clara took a step forward, holding out her fathers heavy gold band to her mother. Stephanie smiled and kissed her lightly on the cheek, laughing nervously at the lipstick smear shed left. She wiped it off with her fingertips, leaving a small, loving caress on her youngests cheek. She mouthed thank you, then turned to Max.

Clara didnt dare take her eyes off the proceedings again, though she could still feel the shock of seeing Abby after so many years.

Clara reveled in the snow that was falling down steadily, though not dangerously. She was also grateful to be out of that awful dress her mother made her war. She was honored to be co-Maid of Honor with Kerri, but still

She shoved her hands a little deeper into the pockets of her jacket as she hurried inside the hall where the wedding reception was being held.

She had been asked to drive a few of the guests home from the church, so after that little chore, shed hurried to her parents house and changed before arriving at the reception hall. Loud music could already be heard pulsing in the cold night, the parking lot filled with cars that were already covered with a light dusting of powdered sugar-like snow.

As she gazed over the cars, she wondered which one if any  belonged to Abby. Was she just inside? Who was the man shed left the church with? Kerri hadnt mentioned Abby in a long time, so she hadnt been aware the two ex-high school buddies were still friends. What other reason would Abby have for coming to the wedding?

The night wore on, everyone having a good time during the reception. Even Clara managed to laugh and dance, even if it was with Zane and a few cousins. All the while, though, she continued to look for Abby, but had yet to see her. She was pretty sure the blonde wasnt there, which for some reason filled her with deep disappointment and relief.

May I have this dance?

Clara turned, surprised to hear the request asked in her left ear. A wide smile immediately split her face at the sight of her father. You may, she said with a vigorous nod.

Max took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, the crowd almost seeming to part for father and daughter. Clara felt her heart begin to melt when the DJ played Unforgettable with Natalie Cole and her father, Nat King Cole. Max smiled down at her as he gracefully led her around the dance floor.

Why did you change your clothes? he asked, twirling her.

I hate dresses.

Max laughed, nodding. Yes, I remember. You were almost as beautiful as the bride today, Clara. Almost, he said with a wink.

And you were the most handsome guy in the entire place.

Why, thank you.

They danced on in silence for a long moment before Max brought her in close again. Ive missed you, sweetpea.

Clara nearly burst into tears at the sound of the endearment Max had used for her entire life. Until she left school and went to California. Ive missed you, too, she said, her voice nearly breaking. Dont be mad at me, Dad, she pleaded, looking up into his face, his own eyes a bit more moist than they should be.

Max shook his head. Im not. I cant be. I love you too much. The song stopped, and so did they. He cupped her face in large hands. Youre too unforgettable.

The dam burst and the tears flowed. Clara was taken into a strong embrace, her daddy back in her life.

I love you, little one, Max whispered, kissing the top of her head.

I love you, too, Dad. They shared one more tight hug, then walked hand in hand off the dance floor.

Clara glanced over at her father several times, often met with a return glance or smile from him. They had decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, neither saying much. She was due to head out of Stapleton International Airport in two days. Though the dance during the wedding reception had been special to both, they hadnt talked much since.

Want to go to the pond? Max asked, words coming out in white puffs. At his daughters nod of consent, they turned left at the corner and headed to the small park where they used to feed the ducks when Clara was a small child. After a long moment, Max spoke again. Are you happy?

Clara chewed on her ChapStick-slathered bottom lip before answering. I needed to do this, Dad.

Max stopped them with a hand to her arm. Thats not what I asked.

I know. Like anything, theres good and bad. I do love what Im doing, and Ive made a really good friend. Is this where I want to be for the rest of my life, probably not. But for right now, its what I need to do, and where I need to be.

Why? he asked, genuine curiosity replacing what was once bitter accusation.

Because I needed some distance from what was safe: you guys, Shelby, doing things I never wanted to do.

Like school, he finished, defeated.

Yes, Dad. Like school. Listen, she said, putting a hand on his arm. I know you want the best for me and Kerri, and dont want to see us struggling like you and mom have. But you have to understand something. College isnt always the answer to every question or problem.

But without an education-

What about people who have natural gifts and talents? Clara interrupted. What if I was a writer? A painter or an actor? Would we be standing here having the same conversation?

Max chuckled. Probably.

Clara smiled. Probably, she agreed. But the fact of the matter is, I do have a gift or talent, and my path in this life is to use is, Dad. To help people.

I know that, Clara, and Ive always supported and respected you for it. You know that. But youre not some teenager anymore. Youre growing up, and have to make it on your own. Eventually Im sure youll have a mortgage, a family hopefully. Is this stuff really going to pay for all that?

Clara shrugged. Maybe. Maybe not. I dont know, but right now Im not worried about that. I need to do this, Dad. She looked him in the eye, wanting him to fully understand what she was saying. Its a part of me. A very big part of me.

And I know that. But, why cant you get something - the normal 9-5  thats stable and you can count on? You can do this stuff on weekends, or after work, or whatever, Max said, his voice hopeful.

Clara shook her head. It doesnt work that way. When youre programmed to do something, regardless of what that something is, you have to do it. Like I said, if I were a writer or an artist, it would be the same thing. I just really need you to understand that, and to have enough faith me that Ill be okay. And, if it doesnt work out, have the faith in me to know that Ill walk away. Im not a stupid person, Dad, nor do I consider myself terribly foolish. I really need you to trust me. Okay?

Max met her gaze for a long moment before finally giving in. He didnt like it, but he nodded and began walking again.

The visit home and Christmas had gone entirely too quickly, and now Clara sat on an airplane headed west to her new home. The time with her family and all that was familiar had been harder to leave than she ever dreamed it would.

Her life in California was about as opposite from back home as night was from day. In Malibu she was surrounded by some of the richest people in the world, certainly the United States, and many were filled with purpose and pomp. Back home, people worked hard for what they had, and the smallest of luxury was hard won.

Then there was her family. There was a small ache in her heart from seeing her mothers tears as she and Kerri waited with her at the gate until her flight boarded. Stephanie had tried to stay strong, but hadnt been entirely successful, and it broke Claras heart. She was, however, glad that she and her father had come to some peace. She felt they were pretty much back on as solid ground as they were before she made the big announcement. At least he understood, anyway. She knew, though that if he had his way, she would be heading back to pack up and drive back home. They both knew that wasnt going to happen. She was happy where she was. Clara knew shed know when it was time to go.

Chapter 34

1999

Mike set down the last box, his pale face ruddy from the exertion of carrying everything Clara owned. Hand on hip, he took a deep breath and looked around the small loft apartment shed decided to rent.

Is that it? she asked, making a pathway between the boxes so she could reach the bathroom.

I sure as hell hope so, Mike said, plopping down on top of a plastic tub that held Claras books. Cause Im done.

Clara laughed. Get yourself a beer. I put some in the fridge to chill last night.

Oh, you are a doll! he exclaimed, pushing to his feet and picking his way through to the small kitchen. So, was Ray pissed you? he called out, hoping to be heard through the closed bathroom door.

Kind of, was called back, though muffled.

I bet, he muttered to himself, heaving himself up to sit on the countertop, letting the flip flops drop from his feet. He knew Raymond Van Wurt well. Ray said jump, you asked how high. He said stay, you asked how long. The fact that his pet had moved out had undoubtedly not gone over so well.

He didnt understand, Clara explained, buttoning her shorts as she made her way into the living room. He thought that Isabelle had pissed me off.

Mike chuckled. Did she?

No more than usual, Clara said, beginning to slice into the tape that held the boxes shut. Isabelle is a woman with more money than sense who likes martinis a little too much.

Ill drink to that, Mike said, holding his beer up in salute before taking a long pull. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I think Im going to ask Jeff to move in, he said, staring off into what he hoped would be a future with the gorgeous blonde. What do you think?

Clara kept her back to him, knowing full well that question was coming. Mike had struck out more than hed made homeruns in love. He was a good guy with a sweet face and beautiful eyes, but few saw him as more than a twink with lots of money. Hed met Jeff Stanley four months before at a party, and in Claras opinion, the only thing Jeff had done for Mike was introduce him to Valium and better oral sex.

Clara? Mike said, hopping down from the cabinet and sauntering into the living room. He leaned up against the wall, waiting for an answer.

Clara sighed, finally turning to face him. You sure you want to know what I think?

Why? Is it bad?

I dont know about bad, but I dont know about good, either.

Damn it, Clara! Mike threw the cap to his beer across the room where it bounced off the huge windows that fronted the building. I am thirty-three, almost thirty-four years old! Im going to end up some creepy old eccentric with a million cats!

No youre not, Clara chuckled, tossing the newly-emptied box aside. Thats not old, Michael, and you know it. Well, she said on second thought, not ancient, anyway.

Nice. Just because you havent even reached your mid-twenties yet doesnt mean you cant be sympathetic to my plight. Mike flopped down onto the floor, a pout on his face.

Clara managed to hide her smile as she sat on a box in front of him. Listen, Mike, I think Jeff is a nice guy, but I dont think hes the nice guy for you.

Why? he asked, his eyes beginning to fill as he looked up at her.

Clara slid off the box and sat next to him. Her heart broke for him. The one thing Michael James had never experienced in a pampered life was true love. Hed had lovers, and hed had users, but never a man who loved him for who he was as a person, and not how much money was in his wallet. The problem Clara knew was that he lured men to his table or his house with the size of his bank account. For whatever reason, men just werent interested in anything else he had to show them. Including a massively large heart.

I dont know, sweetie, she said softly, reaching out to intercept a hear as it fell from one eye. I wish I did. I wish I could call my grandmother here right now and ask her, but the truth is, she wouldnt tell me if I did. Its something in your plan this go round, and its something you must have to learn from.

Fuck lessons! Mike roared, jumping to his feet and stumbling over boxes as he tried to pace. Damn it, Clara! All I want is someone to love me. Me! He pounded his own chest. Is that too much to ask for?

Ive been asking myself that very same question for the past seven years, Mike. I understand.

Clara, he pleased, kneeling in front of her. I want a home. I want a family. I even want a damn dog, even though Im allergic!

Clara smiled.

Am I asking for too much? Why dont you like Jeff? Why isnt he the one?

Do you think hes the one, Mike? she asked, taking his hand in hers. Because honestly, it doesnt matter diddly what I think. It only matters what you think.

Mike sighed, swiping angrily at another falling tear. I dont know. He looked down at his fingers, the tip of his index finger wet with his frustration. I think he might be. Maybe.

Clara nodded, though red flags were flying all over the place in her head. Then you need to do what you need to do. If you feel its right, I support you one hundred thousand percent. Ill help you guys move him in. Just, she brought his face up with a finger under his chin. promise me youll think about it first, okay? Be sure.

Mike nodded, smiling in gratitude. He hugged her tightly to him, whispering into her ear. Thank you, Clara. Thank you.

Clara got the office ready, lighting a few candles to bring a warmth to what used to be a cold, rather sterile room. The blinds were closed, allowing the candle light to filter throughout the room, bringing the harsh brightness of the sunny day, which she felt gave things an artificial, impersonal feeling.

The coffee was brewing, though it was specifically for the client. Two years ago Rebecca had urged Clara to make a drastic change in her diet and intake. She was asked to purify her system, ridding herself and her diet of sugars, caffeine and fatty foods. Rebecca had explained that they were toxic to what she called the energy highway that everyone possessed, causing not only blockage in arteries, but also in clarity. Especially sugar. It had been a very difficult road for her to hoe, and the caffeine headaches had been murder, but shed gotten through it.

Her first client of the day was due in three minutes, so Clara quickly straightened the throw pillows shed bought for the couch, and opened up a new box of Kleenex to put on the glass top table. More often than not readings got emotional for the client.

At nine a.m. on the button there was a knock on the door.

Come in, Clara called out, making sure her cell phone was turned off and left out of sight.

The office door opened, and Clara was surprised to see one of her favorite singers walk through the door. She walked over to her, professionalism as firmly in place as her friendly smile.

Hi. Im Clara, she said, extending a hand, which was quickly taken.

Christine Gray.

Welcome. Please, come in. Clara and the singer got themselves situated, Christine declining a cup of coffee. Okay, do you know anything about me? What I do, who I am, what youre in for?

Christine smiled, pushing a long, dark strand of hair out of sky blue eyes. The white tank top she wore hugged her firm torso nicely, as did the well-ventilated pair of jeans she wore. I know you talk to dead people, but beyond that, she shook her head. Not a clue.

Okay. Well, yes, youre right. I do talk to dead people, and lucky me, they talk back. Both women smiled. So, I only ask a few things of you before we begin. Please give me no names, no details of any events or person. And, during the reading, if you could refrain from expounding on anything I tell you, but keep it simple to what I ask. Okay?

Christine nodded, sitting back in the cushions. She casually crossed one leg over the other, swinging a long leg lazily to and fro. Clara cleared her throat, trying to ignore just how gorgeous her current client was, and closed her eyes.

Grandma, help me get through this without looking like an idiot, please.

She took several deep breaths, opening her mind to connect to the spirit world. Within a few moments information began to come. She opened her eyes, watching as the scene unfolded seemingly in her office. She was looking so intently into the past that Christine glanced over her shoulder to try and get what Clara was so focused on. Seeing nothing, she waited in silence for Clara to speak.

Okay, Im seeing what looks to be an empty room. White walls. A window, sunlight on the floor. She saw something in the corner and tried to focus on it. It looks like theres

orange juice? Her attention was caught by Christines gasp. She glanced at the singer. Do you know what Im talking about?

Yes. Very much so. Christine tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but wasnt entirely successful. She wanted to explain, but remembered Claras words of warning not to expound. Instead she blew out a breath.

This feels like a scary place, Christine, Clara said, unconsciously hugging herself. Very dark. Can I ask you where this is?

its the apartment in Queens where I lived with my parents. She bit her tongue to stop anymore information from coming. The ironic thing was, her parents was an off-limits topic with everyone else, but for some reason she felt like talking to Clara about it.

Okay. Thats fading. Now Im seeing containers of Chinese food, it looks like. Chop sticks.

Christine chuckled and nodded. Yep. I used to eat Chinese with my mother. She stopped cold, realization coming to her. Wait, if youre seeing someone, does that mean theyre dead?

Clara could see the pain in the singers eyes, and her heart reached out to her. Typically, she acknowledged. But maybe not in this case. Lets see what else I get. Okay?

Christine nodded. When she was just a child, shed come home from school to find her home empty: no furniture, no belongings, no parents. Her father had been in trouble with shady characters her entire short life at that time, and so Christine had always just assumed theyd gone on the run. She hadnt seen them in more than twenty years, never hearing from them again.

Okay, lets see, Clara blew out a breath, feeling somewhat under pressure now. Who had blue eyes? Same color as yours.

My mother.

Okay. Thats who Ive got with me, Christine. Im so sorry.

Christine was silent for a long moment, trying to absorb what shed just been told. She swallowed several times, not wanting the emotions to rise anymore than they had to. Shed been abandoned by the woman, left to fend for herself at nine years old. She felt the woman whod given birth to her didnt deserve her tears.

Take your time, Clara said softly, able to feel the battle being waged inside her client. She wanted to cry herself, able to feel the anguish held within the spirit who stood to her left.

What does she want? Christine finally managed to ask.

Lets find out. Okay? Clara reached across the narrow table and touched the singer lightly on the knee. Shes telling me she was forced to leave. She had no choice. Does that make sense to you?

Christine nodded, not sure she wanted to believe it. Yes, it does.

Good. Okay, wait, say again? Clara asked the woman who seemed so anxious to finally say whats been on her mind for so many years. She says she was messed up. In the head, Clara demonstrated what she was being shown by moving her finger in a circle next to her head. She said tried to get Carla to take you-

that drunk old hag?! Christine erupted, her hands fisted at her sides. Im sorry, she nearly whispered, trying to force her anger down and away from herself and certainly Clara.

Thats okay. Hold on. Shes talking again. Talkative, this one. Clara held up her hands, Whoa, wait. Slow down. Her head was a jumbled mess of messages, images and sounds. It was almost as if the woman only had a few precious seconds to get out everything shed needed to get out for so long. From the looks of Christines fidgeting body, that was probably fairly accurate. Okay. Okay, Ive got it. She wants you to know that she loves you, shes sorry, and that it was quick. Your father is still alive. She was killed in an accident, Christine. She was crossing a street when a car ran a red.

Christine nodded, finally giving in and letting her tears come. They were slow, but there. She wiped at them with the edge of the tissue shed pulled from the box.

She also said you should make time for Adam.

Christines head shot up at that one. Why? Is he okay? How the hell does she know about Adam?

Clara couldnt help but smile. On the other side they know about everything. She wont say. Just that you should see him. She smiled. She also said youll make a wonderful mother.

Christines dark brows drew. A wonderful mother? I dont have any kids, nor any plans for them.

Clara shrugged. I just tell you what I hear. I feel her energy fading, she said, the signal growing weaker and weaker as her head became more her own rather than the temporary home of Christines mother. Anything else before I lose her?

Christine opened her mouth, the words I love you nearly falling out. She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.

Shes gone, Clara said softly. And, Christine? She can hear you any time. Okay?

Christine smiled, a little sheepish. Thank you so much. That was

wow. Really amazing.

Youre welcome. Any time.

They both stood and Clara offered a hug, which Christine returned. Powerful stuff, Clara. Powerful stuff. They walked to the door. Im very impressed with you. Guess theyre right what they say.

Whats that? Clara asked, her hand on the doorknob as her client stopped out into the hall.

You really can talk to dead people. With a mega watt smile, Christine was gone.

And its true what they say about you, too, Clara muttered as she closed the door. Youre hotter than hell!

Chapter 35

2000



three, two, one, Happy New Year! A crowd of voices cheered, noisemakers going crazy. All around the huge beach house in Malibu happy couples found each other and kissed to bring in the new millennium.

Clara received a sloppy kiss from her drunk girlfriend. Well, girlfriend may have been slightly too strong of a word for what Leah was. More like bed warmer. Clara turned her head after the kiss, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, trying to hide her disgust. The woman spent most of her time drunk, and if she was sober, she liked to call herself a model. Clara never said anything, after all it was good to have a dream.

Happy New Year, baby, the drunk woman slurred in Claras ear, leaving the remnants of their shared kiss on her lobe.

Clara pulled away, yet again keeping her revulsion in check. I think youve had a little too much to drink, Leah, she said, holding the already-tall woman steady on her four inch heels.

No way! Leah said, pulling away so fast that she toppled over backwards, nearly knocking the beverage table over.

Embarrassed, Clara looked around to see who all had seen. Glad to be in the clear, as everyone was still busy celebrating, she helped Leah to unsteady legs, and eventually out of the house altogether.

Where we goin, baby? Leah asked, folding herself into Claras car, one of her heels snapping in the process. Goddamn mother fucking cocksucker! she cried, throwing the now-useless show outside of the car.

Damn it, Leah! Clara yelled, hurrying back around her car to snag the discarded shoe and tossing it back inside with her girlfriend. She got back on her side and started up the car, making sure Leahs door was locked using the child safety locks.

Why the hell didju take me there, anyways? Leah asked, turning angry hazel eyes on Clara.

Because you wanted to go, Clara steamed.

Nah uh!

Dont start this shit with me again, Leah, Clara warned, her voice dangerously low. Ill leave you on the side of the road so fast



I told you I didnt wanna go-

No, that is not true and you know it. Im the one who didnt want to go to some friends party of yours. Im the one who suggested a quiet New Years at my place. Im not the one who is drunk out of my fucking mind! When there was no response, Clara glanced over to see that Leah had passed out, her mouth hanging open and saliva beginning to dribble out. God, youre so pathetic, she muttered. And Im pathetic for staying.

Clara pulled up in front of the bungalow Leah shared with three other people, one of the roommates helping her to get the tall woman inside. Once inside Leahs dark bedroom, Clara got the unconscious woman settled on the mattress, the other high heel off, and a sheet covering her sleeping form.

She stood next to the bed and stared down at her. Though it had only been a few months that theyd been together, they had been disastrous ones. More times than not Clara had picked Leah up from a bar or a party, either drunk or stoned out of her mind. When she was sober, Leah could be a lot of fun, and was great in bed, but those times were becoming fewer and fewer in between. Clara wondered why it was that such a beautiful woman was destroying herself from the inside out.

Hey, Jules Gilbredth said from the kitchen as Clara made her way towards the front door. Jules had been roommates with Leah the longest, the two models having known each other for five years.

Hi, Clara replied, stopping a few feet shy of the door.

Tough one tonight? Jules asked, raising her coffee mug in invitation.

Clara thought about it for a moment, looking into Jules deep blue eyes. She smiled, deciding that she would definitely like some.

Clara realized she was sitting in a rowboat, her grandmother behind her. They were on a lake, a small island far off to the left, mainland to the right.

Row, Clara, Rebecca ordered.

Clara tried to turn back to look at her guide, but a stern Row stopped her. She grabbed the oars in either hand, trying to figure out the mechanics of rowing a boat, which shed never done before. It took a moment, but then she had them moving.

Where am I going? she asked, the wooden oars chopping cleanly into the water that lapped at the sides of their boat.

Ill tell you when to stop.

Clara had the distinct feeling that further conversation was not welcome, so remained silent in her task. The day was beautiful, the sky above the wonderful golden hue that shed grown accustomed to during her trips to see her grandmother. They were alone on the lake, and it seemed they were alone period. No one could be seen on the small tropical island, and the mainland was too far away to see anything other than the large and small structures scattered about.

Pull in here, Rebecca said, pointing towards a dock that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Clara managed to maneuver the boat until they were right along side. She jumped out and quickly tied off the boat, as though shed done it a million times before. Reaching a hand down, she intended to help Rebecca from the boat, but the dark-haired woman only shook her head. Confused and slightly hurt by her seemingly distant demeanor, Clara simply nodded and backed away. She had no idea where she had been directed to go or why, as Rebecca had never done anything like that before.

Soon the dock ended and Clara stepped onto land, though as soon as she stepped down, she was no longer on that land, she had entered the after shadow. Darkness encroached around her, along with sounds of far-off humming and a distant cry. She walked down a hallway, wide yet seeming to close in around her. Aimless spirits walked towards her, their large, fearful eyes staring at her, silently pleading for her help.

Clara ignored them, knowing that her grandmother had sent her there to do something, and she just hoped she know what it was when it happened, or when she came upon

whatever. Ahead of her was a door, closed, the handle bright silver among the gloom. Clara stood before it, taking a deep breath before entering. Somehow she knew on the other side was her destination.

The room beyond was dark, as though the walls had been painting a dark gray. It was square and empty, except for the woman who sat dead center. Her hair was long, acting as a shield from whatever might frighten her as her face was completely obscured.

Clara took a careful step closer to the woman, noting the womans thin frame and clothing that hung from her limbs in tattered remnants of what used to be jeans and a t-shirt.

Hello, Clara said, unsure of what to do or say. The woman looked up and Clara gasped. She immediately recognized her as Nancy August, mother of Rachel August, a girl Clara went to middle school with. Nancy? she whispered, slowly lowering herself so she was kneeling in front of the woman. She knew Nancy had committed suicide during her and Rachels eighth grade year. Rachel and her sister had then been moved to Arkansas to live with an aunt.

Nancy looked up into Claras face, her own pale, eyes large and frightened. She said nothing, nor did she have to. The fear was quickly replaced with absolute despair. Her head slowly fell again, her hair reforming its shield.

Nancy, I have to get you out of here, Clara said, reaching out a hand to gently brush strands of stringy hair aside. Will you come with me? Clara almost couldnt look into those unbelievably sad eyes as Nancy looked at her again. She shook her head.

I cant, she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Yes you can. Clara took one of Nancys hand, so cold and limp within her own. She stood, Nancys arm raising with the movement, her hand still clutched in Claras. Satisfied that she had her, Clara turned, still holding Nancys hand and began to head for a second door that nearly completely blended in with the wall. See? I told you- Clara turned, shocked to see Nancy still sitting in a defeated heap at the center of the room. She looked down at her hand, stunned to see it was empty, as she swore she had still been able to feel Nancys hand within her own.

She hurried back to Nancy, determination dogging her steps She squatted in front of the woman again, brushing long strands of hair aside.

You can do this, Nancy. You have to do this. Do you understand?

Nancy looked at her, slowly shaking her head. It was as if everything movement the woman made was in slow motion. I cant. I cant go.

Yes. With me, you can go. Let me take you from this place. This awful, awful place youve put yourself. Clara looked around the room, feeling a thrill of fear race down her spine as she felt like the walls were beginning to push in on her. She felt suffocated and sad. Come on. She took her hand again, this time taking them both and holding on tight. Holding on for dear life.

Clara got to her feet, gently tugging and stepping back to encourage Nancy to move. It was as though the sitting woman were a ninety year old man stepping out of his wheelchair for the first time in twenty years.

Thats it, Clara smiled, taking another step back.

Nancy groaned as one foot hit the ground, pushing enough to get the other flat on the floor. She rested, her head lulling forward with the exertion. Her legs nearly gave out as she began to stand.

Dont give up, Nancy. Youre doing it



Nancy grunted as she got to her feet, her legs weak, arms so very thin. Its so hard, she whispered. So hard.

I know its hard. God, youve been here so long. Come on. Keep it coming. Clara took another step backwards, not daring to take her eyes off Nancy, who was still slowly coming. Together they made slow progress, coming closer and closer to the door. Almost there, Clara said, dropping one of Nancys hands to grab the doorknob behind her. Nancys arm fell limply back to her side, as did her head. She began to turn into dead weight as Clara tugged the door open. Oh no you dont! she cried, grabbing the woman in her arms before Nancy fell to the floor.

Arms dangly limply over Claras own, Nancy was nearly dragged over to the door where Clara turned so her back was to the room, and all but pushed Nancy through to the golden light of the other side.

Clara watched in awe as Nancy stood straight as she hit the light, her head flung back, arms wide as she was filled then surrounded by the healing magic of the light. It was nearly blinding, but utterly beautiful to watch. When it all cleared, a young, radiant woman with short red hair stood in Nancys place. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled at Clara.

Thank you so much, she said, taking both of Claras hands in hers once more.

Clara could only smile and nod, truly astonished by what shed just witnessed and been part of. Nancys soul was truly beautiful. Youre welcome. She watched as Nancy hurried off, finally finding peace.

Claras eyes flew open, a gasp torn from her lungs. She sat up in bed, the sheet falling to reveal her naked breasts. She looked around, disoriented and wondering why there was a sleeping woman laying beside her. A sleeping, naked woman laying beside her. It took her a moment to realize it was Jules.

Shit, she blew out, scrubbing her face with her hands. Everything came back to her, and she felt a shiver pass through her and down her spine. She remembered Nancy, and the amazing moment when shed crossed. Incredible. Now if only she knew of a way to find Rachel and tell her.

Clara drove home in the early morning hours of 2000. Everything looked fine, so she assumed Y2K hadnt struck, ending the world as everyone knew it. She actually knew people who had gathered bottled water and non-perishable foods, stockpiling them just in case. The city was still asleep, dead after a night of bringing in the new year. Clara just wondered how in the world she was going to remember to write a new millennium on her checks.

Her mind drifted back to the disaster of a party shed attended  against her better judgment  with Leah. Disaster wasnt even the word for it, and she felt foolish for even bothering. It was definitely over between them, and in her mind, good riddance. This, of course, led to the stupidity of sleeping with Leahs roommate, Jules.

Ah, hell, she blew out, running a hand through her hair, which was a mess without a brush. Did I just do a clichéd lesbian or what? Pretty much. She thought about Jules, and wondered if maybe there could be something more between them than just a night of really good sex. No, she said allowed, knowing better than to go there. Jules wasnt much different than Leah, except maybe with a few less drugs. Her life was just as much about drama as anyone else in that house was. A very unhealthy environment.

As she pulled into the parking lot of her building, Clara blew out a heavy, tired sigh. She hadnt gotten much sleep, and felt emotionally exhausted, though wasnt entirely sure why. Sure, the incident with Leah had been draining and completely embarrassing, but nothing out of the ordinary with the difficult model. Then Nancy Augusts face popped in front of her minds eye. She remembered the entire thing from start to finish, and felt it had to be one of the most profound things shed ever experienced in all her years in the spiritual world.

She pushed open her car door and climbed out, her entire body aching from lack of sleep and enthusiastic sex. Thoughts crept back into her mind as she dug her house key from the ring. The lock clicked open, and she pushed into her apartment.

Was that what happened to souls when they committed suicide? Were they lost forever, or at least until someone like herself could rescue them from themselves? Rebecca had once told her that those who took what she called an early exit were destined to turn right back around and live a similar life to what theyd just escaped. Theyd planned it for themselves, and had to keep going until they finished it and learn whatever was meant to be learned form it.

So, what happened with Nancy? Did she fall through the cracks? Did her fear and pain in life keep her trapped within that fear and pain, keeping her from crossing, from finding that door that was just within arms reach?

Clara had no idea as she tossed her keys to the coffee table and kicked her shoes off. She padded off to the bathroom, desperately wanting a shower. She wanted to wash off the stupidity of her night with Jules, and the disgust of her night with Leah. Stripping her clothes off, she left them in a pile on the bathroom floor as she turned the shower on, nice and hot.

The water blasted over Claras skin and hair, causing a deep, satisfied groan to escape her throat. She pushed her hair off her face, surprised at how long it had gotten. Her hair was past her bra strap, and she tinkered daily with the idea of cutting it. Mike had threatened to kill her if she did. She took her time, allowing the heat to relax her tension-filled body. She had a few readings to do that day. More than once shed patted herself on the back for moving out of Malibu and closer to the office. She had grown to despise the long commute every day, and made for some really long days.

Dressed in a white terrycloth robe, Clara rubbed the water out of her hair as she padded down the hall towards the kitchen. She was starving and had a hankering for a banana-nut muffin. A bite of muffin in her mouth, she grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and prepared to go sit in the living room when a knock on her door startled her, making her nearly drop her water.

Cautious, she walked over to the front door, wondering who in the world would be knocking at her door at five-thirty in the morning. Relief filled her when she saw Mike standing in the hall through the fisheye. She quickly unlocked the door and opened it, concern taking the place of fear.

Hey. What are you doing here so early? she asked, ushering him inside so as not to awaken any of her neighbors.

Hi. Im sorry. Did I wake you? he asked, noting the muffin and water she held. I guess not.

No. I actually just got home not too long ago. Sit down. Want me to make you some coffee or something? Decaf, but



Yeah. Sounds good, actually. Mike followed her into the kitchen where she set about making him coffee. She rarely made the stuff, but kept a one-cup maker and a can of decaf around just in case the mood struck. He hopped up onto the counter, reaching to the cabinet beside him to grab a mug. How was your New Years? he asked, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

Im an idiot, thats how it was, Clara said, leaning against the opposite counter where Mike sat, picking chunks off her muffin and popping them into her mouth. I never should have gone with her, Mike. She shook her head in disgust. God, it was awful.

No sympathy from here, sweets, he said, playing with the handle on his mug.

I know, I know. I should have gone over to Williamss with you and Jeff. She let out a long breath. It was stupid. Mike, she was loaded when I picked her up. Why the hell did I not just turn right then and there and leave?

Because youre a fool, Mike said with a tired sigh.

Clara stopped, realizing she had question that was never answered. Mike, why are you here so early?

Mike didnt answer for a long moment, his expression troubled. Im actually glad you didnt go with us last night, he finally said, voice quiet. Very glad, in fact.

Why? Clara grabbed the creamer and sugar container she kept around specifically for her friend.

Because you would have said I told you so, and I didnt much want to hear that last night.

Clara took the mug from him, pouring him a cup of coffee before handing it back to him, as well as the creamer and sugar. How do you mean?

I mean about Jeff. Hes an asshole, and Ive known it all along. I just didnt want to face it that yet again Id made a grave mistake.

Oh, Mike, Clara said, suddenly feeling her exhaustion creeping back in. What happened?

I lost track of him for awhile at the party, Larry keeping me company. Well, finally I went to find him and saw him with Deaton Wagners dick up his ass. The words were said with such calm, so matter-of-fact.

Oh no, Clara said, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from saying those very words: I told you so.

Oh yes. And it gets even better from there. Mike hopped down from his seat on the counter and readied his coffee. It seems my dear Jeff has sucked off just about every man at that party over the past year. The funny thing is, he was sucking off my dick during the past year, too. Well, when he was in the mood that is.

Mike, Im so sorry- she put a hand to his shoulder but he shrugged her away.

No. No, you were right all along, and Im man enough to admit that. I was a fool, Clara, and the worst part was I knew it. But, he said with a big smile, thats okay. Its truly okay. I spent the entire night up fighting with the son-of-a-bitch and Im exhausted, but Ive come to a decision.

What is that?

That Jeff Connors can kiss my ass. I dont need him to make me happy. I dont need anyone to make me happy. All my life Ive been thinking that it would take Prince Charming on a white horse to gallop in wearing leather chaps and only that would make me happy. He shook his head. No more. No man can bring me that kind of happiness.

Clara grinned from ear to ear, glad to hear it. Mike had always put his happiness in others hands, and had constantly been hurt because of it. It was about time he realized that true happiness had to come from within. Others simply were accessories in life. She hugged him tight, wanting to express to him just how proud of him she truly was.

Mike clung to his friend, one of the only people in his life who had truly accepted him for all of him. He ran his hand over her back, placing a kiss at her temple.

What do you say to some breakfast and shopping this morning? he asked, pulling slightly away.

Oh, Im sorry Mike, I cant. I have some readings, but she said at his look of disappointment. Ill be done by eleven. But, Ill tell you what. You look absolutely exhausted, so why dont you crash in my bed and get some good sleep, okay? Itll be quiet and safe. Take yourself a nice, long hot bath and be ready by eleven-fifteen at the latest. Then, well go grab something to eat and shop our hearts out. Okay?

Mike nodded, taking a slight step back from her to grab his coffee. Okay. All that sounds wonderful.

Awesome! Itll be fun. Clara gave him her best smile. But, in the meantime, I need to get ready for my run, then Im heading into the office, okay?

Chapter 36

Clara waited for her client to quit with the explanations, wanting nothing more than to throttle the woman. Shed been told explicitly to keep her comments and/or stories to herself, but that didnt seem to matter. Glancing at the clock on the wall above her clients head, Clara was irritated to find that the woman had been yapping on and on for nearly twenty-two minutes. Finally the woman slowed down to take a breath. Clara took her opening.

Okay, so what Im hearing in my head is: ask about Saturday spaghetti dinners-

Oh my goodness, yes! We had the most wonderful dinners! You should have seen



Another twenty minute story began, Claras mind beginning to drift. Suddenly she saw a clear picture of Nancy August sitting in that dark room, hair hanging in her face, body limp and defeated.

The woman was startled from her rambling when Clara gasped, her eyes opening wide in shock and fear.

What is it? the client asked, sitting forward on the couch hoping for some good gossip from her mother.

Im so sorry, Mary, but I need to re-schedule our appointment, Clara said, her hands trembling as she managed to get to her feet. Ive just remembered something very important I need to do.

What? Wait a minute, I paid for a full hour, and I want my hour today! Mary demanded, her diamond-covered finger glinted in the candlelight as she waved it at Clara.

Ill give you two hours next week, I promise. I have to go. Clara grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

It took three tries to get the key into the lock on her car door. Finally successful, she climbed in and the car roared to life. She was followed by a chorus of angry horns as she plowed into the busy late morning traffic. She grabbed her cell phone out of her bag, trying to dial with one hand and drive with the other. The call finally went through, though caused a cry of frustration from Clara as it went straight to his voice mail.

Shit! She threw the phone to the passenger seat and sped off towards home.

Mikes car was still parked out front, the hood cool. She jogged up the path past it to the front door of the building and pushed inside. She ran up the flights of stairs until she reached her door, panting and out of breath. She tried the knob, which was locked, so inserted her key, pushing the door open.

Mike? she called out, tossing her keys to the coffee table and heading further into the apartment. She stopped in front of the closed bathroom door, hearing the dripping of water from the dripping faucet into the filled tub. Music was playing. Clara kept a small CD stereo in the bathroom, which she figured Mike must have decided to use.

Blowing out a relieved breath, Clara headed into her bedroom and changed her shirt. Shed gotten herself so freaked out about Mike shed saturated her t-shirt with perspiration.

Disgusting, she muttered with wrinkled nose, tossing the shirt to the laundry basket.

Feeling better, she made her way to the kitchen, grabbing herself a bottled water from the fridge and turned on the TV. She knew Mike was notorious for his long soaks, so knew she was in for the long wait. Part of her felt guilty, like maybe she should get hold of Mary Walker and continue their session over the phone. She thought back to the annoying older woman with all her diamonds and pearls and never ending stories and thought better of it.

Hey, Mike, Im going to head out for a minute. Ill grab some of that fudge you like, she called out, grabbing her keys again. Be back in a few. Be ready, Im hungry!

Without waiting for a reply, Clara bounced out of the apartment, her relief turning to a state of near giddiness. She walked down to the market around the corner, which had some of the most wonderful organic fudge shed ever eaten. She loaded up the basket she carried with all kinds of munchies, as she had the feeling there would be a lot of discussions throughout the day with Mike.

He would be starting his life over again, essentially. He and Jeff had lived together for more than a year, and their lives and finances had become entangled. That would no bode well for Mikes many businesses. But, Clara reasoned, he was incredibly intelligent when it came to money, so she knew he likely had something in place already. At least she hoped he did.

Honey, Im home! she called, setting the paper sack down on the kitchen counter. She hummed along with the music that was blasting from the bathroom. Youd think he wouldve gotten over Bon Jovi back in 1987, she muttered, putting the groceries away.

She munched on a carrot stick, trying to find something that would take the edge off her hunger as she waited. A glance at the stove clock told her shed been waiting for forty minutes.

Okay, this is ridiculous, she muttered, leaving the half-eaten root on the counter and heading down the hall to the bathroom. Shot Through the Heart had just begun to play. She knocked on the door. Mike? Come on, man. Im about to start eating the couch. Are you almost done? Nothing. Mike?

Fear began to seize Claras gut once more, her intuition telling her that something was terribly wrong. She tried the door handle only to find it locked. She pounded on the door.

Mike! Michael! Dont you dare do this to me! She pounded again, rattling the knob with so much force she felt it coming loose. Michael! She pounded against the door with her shoulder, but was getting nowhere.

Trying to decide what to do, Clara took a step back, using her foot and all the force she could muster. The door splintered enough for her to reach inside and unlock the knob. She sliced her hand open on a jagged piece of wood but didnt care. All that mattered was getting to her friend.

The walls in the bathroom nearly vibrated with the loud music, which Clara immediately turned off. The room was cool, the once-hot water long gone cold. She cried out when she looked at the tub.

No! Mike, no!

She fell to her knees beside it, taking her friends pale face between her hands. His eyes were unfocused, lids at half-mast. His lips were slightly opened, a tiny smile curling up the corners, lips blue. The water that reached his mid-chest was an eerie pinkish red color. His left hand was in the water, palm up and resting on his thigh. The wicked cut could be seen through the bloody water. His other arm rested along the side of the tub, a blood trail leading from it down to the floor.

Clara didnt know what to do first. See if he had a pulse? Cry? Scream? Call for help? Nothing? She didnt have to try for a pulse, as she knew in her heart that he was already gone, but she tried anyway. Two fingers to his throat, she felt across the cold, clammy skin, desperately hoping she was wrong. Nothing.

God damn you, Mike, she whispered, a sob tearing from her throat. The tears fell in to mix with the ruby water. Damn you! she screamed, shaking his violently, his lifeless body like a rag doll, head lulling to the side. Her sobs were uncontrollable now as she hugged his head to her chest, blood smearing the new t-shirt shed put on an hour before. Oh, Mike.

Clara sat numb as the paramedics placed Mikes body on a gurney, covered him with a sheet and tied him down. She sat on the couch, watching with red, swollen eyes as he was removed from her apartment. A police officer was asking her questions, a small notepad in his hand.

Maam, I know this is hard, but I really need you to answer these questions, he was saying, though Clara could barely hear him, his voice seeming to come from a far distance. She stared at him, not even registering the color of his hair or eyes. He sighed, getting to his feet from where hed been squatting next to the couch. Shes in shock, he explained to another officer.

Clara wasnt sure what she was. All she knew was she couldnt get the vision of her best friend out of her mind. She kept seeing his eyes, dead and glazed over. She thought of her grandmother, and the previous night when all Rebecca would say was, Row. Shed led Clara to Nancy August, where shed saved her from her own devastation. That thought made her come to life, especially when she saw Rebecca standing over in the corner of the room.

Why didnt you warn me? Clara yelled, jumping to her feet and scaring the hell out of the personnel in the room. Why, Grandma?! she demanded, walking over to where Rebecca patiently stood.

Officers looked at her, seeing absolutely nothing that she was screaming at. They exchanged glances, wondering if the woman had lost her mind.

Clara didnt care, nor did she see them. Why? Why did you let this happen! You knew, didnt you? You fucking knew!

Rebecca remained silent, but trying to send as much love and comfort to Clara as she could.

Nothing to say? Fine. Well fuck you, Grandma. Fuck you.

Chapter 37

Here, drink this. Isabelle placed a goblet of warmed brandy in front of Clara, who had been sitting on the uppermost portion of their deck for hours. She hadnt spoken a word since breaking the news the previous afternoon. Hell, shed barely breathed, from what Isabelle could tell.

Clara heard the older womans voice, but had a hard time responding to it. She could smell the strong odor of even stronger alcohol. She glanced at the dark liquid, turning her gaze back to the sea.

Honey, youre not going to do yourself any good if you let yourself fade away. She studied Claras profile, unsure what to do. Clara hadnt wanted to go back to her apartment, so shed been given a room in the main house so Isabelle could watch over her. She was very worried about the young woman. Clara, she began again, placing a warm hand on Claras arm. Please talk to me. Tell me what happened. All theyd been told was that Mike had died in her apartment yesterday morning.

Clara cleared her throat, which had become raw and tight from lots of tears and no talking. She reached out absently until she felt the warm snifter, taking a small sip. She nearly choked on the strong taste and even strong effect, but decided that maybe a little numbness was what she needed. Finally she turned to face Isabelle.

He slit his wrists in my bathtub while I was working.

Isabelle gasped softly, covering her mouth with a heavily-ringed hand. I was afraid it had been something like that. I know Mike was rather unsteady.

Says who? Clara demanded, anger rising as she wanted to protect the memory of her friend.

Says everyone, sweetheart. Between his drinking and valium use

 her voice trailed off.

Clara said nothing. She knew Isabelle was right, but didnt want to go there. I honestly didnt think hed hurt himself when I left that morning, she said, her voice barely a whisper. I swear.

Isabelle listened, her own pained dulled slightly by the two snifters of brandy shed had before bringing Clara her own. Even still, she could see the terrible pain in those strange colored eyes.

I raced home at one point because I had a bad feeling, Clara continued, taking another sip, feeling her emotions begin to rise. I thought everything was okay. Her face fell as fresh tears stung her eyes during their escape. They plopped on the metal table with hollow notes. He might have still been alive then, she cried, her words nearly unintelligible.

Unsure what else to do, Isabelle left her seat and went to Clara, pulling her into as much of a maternal embrace as she could muster. Though grateful for the comfort, Clara wished it were coming from someone else. She had no idea who, but she had a craving for affection and comfort from someone who knew her as well as she knew herself. Her soul cried out for it. If only she knew where to find it.

The funeral was on Tuesday, January 5th. Clara would never forget that because it landed on Jasons birthday. He would have been twenty-five that day. Clara looked up into the sky, the ministers words turning into mumbling in her mind. She didnt care what he had to say. His words had no bearing on her life, or Mikes. She doubted he even knew Mike.

A testament to Michael James and his business practices were the amount of people who had shown up, very few in tears, but all in expensive suits. She looked around at them, wondering if any of them had any clue just what a wonderful human being hed been. Did they know anything about him, outside of the newest artist he had been sponsoring? Did they know about his warm heart? Or his desperate need for acceptance and love? Likely not, she figured. Very few knew the Mike that she did, and it had cost him his life.

Her attention was caught by something further off in the cemetery. She wasnt entirely surprised to see Rebecca standing next to a large tree, her eyes focused on Clara. The irony wasnt lost on Clara, as her grandmother had shown up at Jasons funeral, too. Two men in her life whom she could have helped. Two young lives that were taken in the blink of an eye, both of which she could have prevented.

She turned away from Rebecca, not wanting to see her, nor talk to her. She shut her mind down: nobodys home.

A huge crowd had gathered at Mikes downtown gallery, the art cleared out to make room for the celebration that had been planned. Clara didnt want to go, truth be told. What she wanted to do was pack up and head home. She had never felt so alone in all her life. Many of the people who were talking and eating she knew, most of them Mikes business associates and customers that shed met at one function or another. Others were Raymonds friends and colleagues. None were friends of Claras.

She nursed a glass of wine, foregoing food, as she hadnt had an appetite in the four days since it had all happened. She wandered, looking at the pictures that still adorned the walls, only the more massive pieces having been removed. Half the time she didnt know what she was looking at, her mind wandering.

How are you holding up? Raymond asked, stepping up beside her. His tie was loosened, top button unbuttoned on his shirt. She was surprised to see the casual dress.

Shrugging, Clara sighed. Okay, I guess. Im just trying to wrap my mind around all this, I guess.

Raymond nodded in understanding. He set his empty wine glass on a passing waiters tray. I understand that very much. I liked Mike, but I am sorry for your loss, Clara. I know you two were close.

Yes, we were. Making a decision, she turned to her boss. Ray, Id like to take some time off.

Oh? How much? Are you going somewhere?

Im not sure how much, to be honest. I want to head back home for a little while. I need to get away for a bit, you know?

Rays brows drew. Youre not planning to come back, are you?

Clara blinked at him, surprised. She hadnt even given that thought very serious interest, but now that he had

I dont know. I mean, I know we all lost him, and Im not trying to be melodramatic about all this, but I really need to get away and think about a few things.

Heres the problem with that, Clara, he said, turning to fully face her, all business. If you decide to go off back to that tiny town you came from, you might as well stay there.

Clara stared at him, stunned.

He continued, This is a business, and I cant very well decide to just go hopping off somewhere to think. I have to be there to run my business. Youre it, Clara. Its not like I can call in someone to take your place while you decide on what youre going to do. Do you understand what Im saying?

Anger began to fill her as she stared into dark, uncaring eyes. I understand perfectly. Then I guess consider this my two weeks notice. She set her wine glass on a low table and walked out of the gallery.

Clara felt like an indulgent teenager as she cruised along the Interstate, sipping her first mocha breve with extra whipped cream in more than two years. Fuck the energy highway. She was going to do her own thing now, and the spirit world be dammed. She sipped, moaning at the strong taste of espresso and mocha, licking the whipped cream off her upper lip. She turned her car stereo up louder, enjoying herself and the freedom she felt as she headed back towards her hometown, all that she owned loaded into her car. What wouldnt fit had been left. Just like old times.

The further away from California she got, the more snow lined the landscape. Though she had enjoyed her time in the California sun, she had missed truly inclement weather: cold nights and fires in the fireplace. Even so, she knew she wasnt going to enjoy scraping her windows in the morning, once she stopped at a hotel in New Mexico, which she would be reaching within two hours.

It had been a wonderful days drive, though it hadnt started out great. Clara had left the gallery during Mikes funeral reception and had forced herself to go back to the apartment. Shed packed up her car, left a note with keys under the landlords office door, and had left town. Shed driven to a small town in Arizona where shed gotten herself a room and had hidden out to think. Had she done the right thing? Was it time to leave California and the life shed created there? Would she find that Raymond was taking some sort of action against her? Wouldnt surprise her if he did.

She had sat in that hotel room with its double bed, scarred dresser and black and white TV and had stared at the ceiling as she lay on the bed. Shed contemplated calling her parents, but then realized shed left the cell phone Raymond had given her at the gallery. She didnt want to pay crazy charges in the room to make a call, so had tried to sort it all out on her own.

Shed thought of her grandmother, her abilities, and Mike. In the end shed come to the realization that what was the good of being able to communicate with the spirit world, and help those in it if she couldnt even help save those in her own world? Every time she saw Mikes face she saw Jasons. She knew nothing in life was arbitrary or coincidence, but still. Why had two men who had been her closest friends died in such horrible ways? Both times she knew, but was still unable to stop it?

Somewhere inside she heard because you werent meant to, but she couldnt believe that. Wouldnt believe that. In her mind there was no reason for that to happen. No excuse. She was done. Going home was the best thing she could do for herself. She planned to leave every part of her life back in California where it belonged.

Night had already fallen when Clara pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6. She had stopped during the day and bought herself a new cell phone and plan. She unloaded any valuables from the car and then carried in the dinner shed picked up for herself before checking into the motel. It was almost cold by now, but she didnt care; she was famished.

After she got herself settled and had eaten, she pulled her new phone out of the box and began to play with all the new features. She loved fun gadgets. Satisfied with her new ringtone, she dialed her parents house. After three rings, the line was picked up by her mother.

Hey, sweetie, Stephanie said, glad to hear her daughters voice. Where are you? This is a Denver number.

Im in New Mexico, but Im coming home.

Stephanie felt her heart fill with gratitude, kept it low key. She closed the newspaper shed been reading and tossed it aside. Im so glad to hear that, Clara. You know you have a place to go.

Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.

Are you okay? How did the Van Wurts take youre leaving?

Clara blew out a breath, focusing on a water stain in the ceiling by the corner. Not thrilled, but I Raymond didnt exactly give me a choice. I told him I was coming home for awhile to try and deal with what happened with Mike, but he all but said, you leave, you stay gone.

Oh, honey. Im sorry. Stephanie leaned back into Max who remained quiet, trying to figure out what was being said from his wifes responses. I think its wonderful and a smart move for you to come home.

Do you? Clara asked, for some reason filled with doubt, despite knowing it was the right choice.

Yes. Very much so.

Okay. Ill be home tomorrow sometime. Probably afternoon, but it depends on how early I get out of here.

Okay, sweetie. Well be waiting for you. Still have your old room, too.

Good thing I brought my bed back, huh? Clara smiled, feeling better just hearing her mothers voice. Is dad there?

He sure is. Want to talk to him?

Max took the phone from his wife, glad to speak to his youngest. Hey, sweetpea. Coming back home, huh?

Yep. I had enough.

Im glad. And, Clara? Im so sorry we couldnt make it to your friends funeral. There was just no way with work.

I know, Dad. Thank you. Ill see you tomorrow.

Clara slapped her cell phone shut and tossed it onto the comforter beside her. She felt an unusual loneliness embrace her. Always one to spend time alone, and rarely needing the presence of another, she felt uneasy with the feeling. Like when Mike died, she felt a craving for something that she just couldnt put her finger on. A craving for someone to hold her, and let her know it would all be okay. She needed to be comforted in a way shed never been before, but knew there was no one in her life that could do that. Once upon a time her grandmother could offer that kind of comfort, but not anymore. Besides, what she wanted was comforting of the physical body, not her soul.

Chapter 38

Clara stepped out of her car, her breath coming in white puffs as the chilled, early-spring air whirled around her. Soon the snows would be disappearing, bringing green grass and blooming flowers with it. For the time being, it was a bitterly cold March afternoon.

She walked between the rows of knee-high stones, her boots crunching on the snow-packed grass. It was a gray day, the sky heavy and pregnant, threatening more snow. She inhaled the clean, cold air, allowing it to fill her lungs and remember the reason she was there.

Clara hadnt been to Jasons grave since the day he was buried ten years before. She wasnt sure what had brought her there, but felt compelled to see him. She knew that cemeteries were essentially for the living, as the dead were long gone, but still. She need to talk to him.

Someone had recently visited Jasons grave, fresh flowers adding color to the otherwise dreary landscape. She cleared a small patch of grass to sit on then sat down cross-legged.

Hi, Jay, she began, feeling stupid talking to a stone. Looking at the date of his death brought the dream from that night back to her mind all over again. She remembered seeing the accident, watching as Jason was catapulted out of the car. She could recall the fear and panic like it had all just happened yesterday. been a long time.

Clara sighed, feeling a weight on her shoulders trying to push her down. She didnt even bother looking around, as she didnt want to see anything. Or anyone. She had been back in her hometown for three months, living the ordinary life of a woman in her mid-twenties who worked at the bakery her mother managed. She had turned a blind eye to anything remotely out of the ordinary. She wanted to be like everyone else.

Im not sure why Im here, Jay, but I am. I know you know whats been going on with me. My life in L.A. What a crazy place that is. She shook her head with a small chuckle. Crazy indeed. Complete opposite of here. You know, Jay, I wanted to get out of here so badly that it never, ever occurred to me that Id want to come back. She stopped, looking at the stone, seeing Jasons young face in it. You think I ran, dont you? Only the gently falling snow - which had been promised in the weather report  answered her question. Everything was so calm, so still. Not even any animals made a sound. I dont want to think that about myself, though. I do think it was time to go. Most the time I think that, anyway.

She raised her face to the sky, allowing a few flakes to land on her tongue. I do like working at the bakery, though. Its different. Never done anything like that before. She shrugged. Its nice. I think Ive gained ten pounds since working there, though. Her smile was met with the distant barking of a dog.

Im thinking of buying a house. I was smart in L.A. and managed to save a lot of money. Never done that before. Ive got more than enough for a down payment on something small. Im not real keen on staying with my parents anymore. She grimaced at the thought. Definitely time to move on from there. Oh, Jason, she blew out, reaching out to touch the cold granite of his headstone. I miss you. After all these years, I still miss you.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed to her feet, kissing two fingers and laying them on Jasons name. Take care my friend. I dont think Ill be seeing you over there anymore. I hope you can understand and forgive me. Its time I moved on. Lived a normal life for the first time in my life. I love you.

Clara shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat, trying to shrug off the cold. She was about to pass through the wrought-iron gate that surrounded the cemetery when something caught her eye. Looking down she saw a white feather. Looking up into the sky, she saw no birds, and there were no trees nearby. A soft smile tucked up the corners of her mouth as she picked it up, tucking it carefully into her wallet.

Well, what do you think? Stephanie asked, opening and closing the cabinet doors, both above and below the kitchen counters. The small house had two medium-sized bedrooms and a tiny third that would make a great home office, Clara thought. The living room was a nice size: not huge, but not small. The yard was small, which was a plus as Clara wasnt huge on yard work.

I like it, Clara said, standing in the empty space and turning in a small circle to look everything over one more time. Theyd already spent thirty minutes there. She looked at her mother. What about you?

I think its great, Stephanie said, nodding in approval as she checked out the fridge. They left the fridge, which is a plus. That way youll only have to buy a stove and washer and dryer.

Clara nodded in agreement. And a couch. And a bed. And a-

I got it, Stephanie laughed, walking over to her daughter. The fact that Clara was looking to buy a house made her happier than shed been in a long time. To her that meant her youngest was intending to finally stay put. She put an arm around Claras shoulders. Verdict?

Clara let out a long breath, nervous but very excited. Im going to take it.

2001

A hand snaked out from under a layer of blankets  SMACK! The beeping finally stopped, but it was replaced by a groan.

Too fucking early to go make the doughnuts, Clara muttered. She slipped her hand back underneath the covers, pretending she hadnt heard or turned off her alarm. BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Damn it! She exploded out from underneath the heavy bedding, bare feet slapping against the wood floor as she hurried to her dresser, stubbing her tow on the bed leg along the way, and shut off her second alarm. Shed been working at the bakery for more than a year, and still was unable to wake up at three forty-five in the morning with just one alarm.

Clara rubbed at her eyes as she padded her way to the bathroom to do her morning business and get ready for work. She was now the chief baker, so had to be there at what she called ass crack a.m.

Within moments the sound of running water filled the small house, along with a loud, low throaty groan of approval. Clara stood under the spray, letting the warmth fill her in the cold, early-autumn morning.

The drive to the bakery was an uneventful one. She let herself in, flicking on the lights as she made her way through the building until she was in the back room. The smells of sugar and flour always hung in the air, no matter how well the place was cleaned. The bakery had been in that same building for more than sixty years. It wasnt likely the smell would ever go away.

When Clara had first started working at the bakery, shed tried and sampled everything the store had to offer. That was mainly when shed gained those extra ten pounds. Now, shed grown fairly immune to the temptations of pastries and pies. Over the past six months shed been feeling a need to cleanse. She wasnt sure why, and was actually fighting it. The thought of going back to the strict diet she was on in California brought back too many memories, and made her feel that she would once again be slave to the whims of the spirit world. She didnt want to go back there.

Clara turned on the stereo, music filling the kitchen area as she began to prepare the goods for the day. Soon she was stripped down to a tank top and jeans from her bundled clothing to block out the cold. It got downright hot once those ovens were fired up.

Raw doughnut dough laid out, another batch in the oven, Clara peeled off her latex gloves and grabbed the paint chips out of her backpack, sitting on a stool as she sorted through them. She had decided to do an overhaul to her house: new paint, new rugs and decorative accessories. Shed been in the house for more than a year but had yet to really make it her own. Sure, she had bought furniture and had hung pictures on the walls, but somehow it didnt feel much like a home to her. Part of her felt shed kept somewhat of an emotional distance from the place because her heart wasnt totally set on the path shed set herself on. Part of her still wasnt. At least re-vamping the house would give her something to do.

Since coming back into town, Clara had kept mostly to herself. She saw her parents and sister regularly, of course. The friends shed had in school had either moved on from their hometown, or she had lost touch and wasnt entirely keen on re-connecting. Even so, she felt a restlessness setting in that she wasnt entirely sure what to do with. How to make it go. What to think. What did she want? The answer to that question eluded her to the point of frustration.

Soon the snow began to clear completely, fresh flowers blooming in the manicured garden of Stephanie Greenwold. Birds had come back, their cheerful songs filling the air, and their little gifts littering car windows and hoods. Time marched on, and so did Claras many home repairs.

It was mid-May when Kerri caught Clara up on a ladder, studiously painting the outside of her house, a brush in hand as she worked on the trim.

Wow. I must say, you are quite ambitious, she said, walking across the thick, lush lawn towards her sister.

Clara glanced down to see her teen feet below her. Well, somebodys gotta do it. Dont have anyone to give a honey-do list to. Kerri matched her grin. Whats up? She stuck the brush into the paint tray that was attached to the ladder, and then carefully climbed down, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her sweat shorts.

I came by to see the new place.

New place? Clara asked, twisting the cap off her bottle of water.

Yeah. Mom says youve done a lot of remodeling. Show me.

The sisters headed inside the small house, which Clara had been working on nearly non-stop for the past two months. The entire inside had been painted, new light fixtures installed and thick floor rugs gave the hardwood personality.

Very nice, I must say, Kerri said, peeking her head into the large of the two spare bedrooms. I may have to hire you for our place. She grinned at her sister.

There is no way in hell Im climbing a ladder tall enough to reach the trim on that monstrosity, Clara declared, leading the way into the kitchen where she poured her sister a glass of decaf iced tea.

Thanks. Kerri added two bags of sweetener to it before sipping. I recall you actually liked that monstrosity when you lived there.

Yeah, well I was a teenager and didnt know better. I didnt have to clean it all.

Kerri laughed, joining Clara at the kitchen table. They sat across from each, Kerri playing with her wedding ring as she tried to decide the best way to approach the two reasons shed actually come. She decided on the good news first, news that she knew Clara would be excited about. She wasnt so sure on the second bit.

Zane and I have actually decided on a new purpose for your old apartment, she began, eyeing her sister.

Oh yeah? Clara asked, oblivious to the fact that she was about to be told she would be an aunt come fall. Whats that? A torture chamber?

Kerri grinned. Maybe some day, but for now were turning it into a playroom. Well, it will be baby storage for a little while until-

Catching on, Clara was out of her chair in three point five, grabbing her sister in a furious hug. Oh my god! When?!

Im due in November.

Thats wonderful news! She moved back to her own chair, feeling exhilarated. I wondered if you guys were ever going to reproduce.

Kerri rolled her eyes at her sisters choice of words. Yes, Clara, the breeders will reproduce.

Clara snickered, finishing her water and tossing the bottle in the garbage. Im very happy for the two of you. Im sure mom was beside herself when you told her.

Well, actually I havent, yet. I wanted to wait until their barbeque this weekend.

For some reason a thrill traveled through Clara at knowing that she was the first to know. Then I cant wait to see her and dads face. Im glad Ill be there to see it.

Clara, Kerri began, her voice losing the excitement of baby news. I need to ask you for a favor.

Sounds serious. Go ahead. Clara readied herself, unsure what her sister would ask of her. She could count on one hand the times Kerri had asked anything of her, and was curious, though for some reason had a sense she wasnt going to like it.

Before I ask, I want you to know that I understand how you feel about things. I understand why youve walked away from your gifts-

No, Clara said, scooting back from the table to grab an apple from the basket on the recently installed butcher block. She kept her back to her sister, not wanting to see her face.

Kerri had expected that kind of reaction, so had come prepared to plead her case. She walked over to Clara, leaning against an adjacent counter as Clara cut the apple into slices.

Do you want one? Clara asked, clearly trying to change the subject before it had even begun.

No. Clara, what happened to you in California was awful. I know Michael meant a lot to you, and I know his death  and how it happened  has hit you hard. I see a change in you. Its almost like before you were filled with this wonderful light, and since youve come back home, its gone. Or at least very dim.

Yes, Kerri, it is. Im done with all that, and I asked that you respect me enough to drop it.

Kerri sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could say. Clara was right: she had to respect her enough to take to heart what she said. She nodded, giving her sister a small hug. Okay. Im sorry. Ill tell her you cant.

Thank you.

Chapter 39

The bakery was busy, everyone coming in to grab bag and boxfuls of goodies for the upcoming weekend. Typically Clara was out of there by eleven, or noon at the latest, but they had a call-off, and her mother had begged her to say and help out. It was nearly five oclock, and she was about to fall over dead from a fourteen hour shift, a two-hour lunch to take a power nap.

She had just boxed up a birthday cake, ordered a week ago, and was ringing up the sale when the bells above the door jingled the entrance of yet another customer. Internally she sighed. People! Go home and bake for yourself! She glanced up, a forced smile of welcome in place, becoming frozen in place when she saw Abby Jensen step up to the counter.

Thanks, Clara, Michelle Mason said, gathering the birthday cake and her purse and moving out of Abbys way.

Welcome, Clara said, trying not to stare. She hadnt seen Abby since her parents wedding years before, and certainly hadnt seen her close up since Abby and Kerri were still in high school.

Hi, Clara. How are you? I heard you were back in town. Abby asked, her voice filled with the friendly smile that was on her face. It was a genuine smile that reached her bright green eyes.

Im doing well. You heard that, huh? Clara smiled, feeling like she could float off the ground.

Yep. Kerri filled me in over the years on where youd run off to, or what you were doing.

I see, Clara said, trying best to not break her face by the sizeable grin that threatened to split her face. What can I help you with?

Well, actually I was hoping to be able to talk to you for a few minutes.

Oh. Um, Clara glanced behind her to see who was available to take over at the register. Luckily the place was beginning to clear, the Friday afternoon rush slowing. Jill, can you take over for a few? she called to the teenager who was helping Stephanie load doughnuts into the Day Old rack that would be rolled into the main lobby of the bakery.

Sure. The perky teen took over, allowing Clara to slip away.

Want to step outside? Clara asked, looking at the small space available in the store, as a few customers still waited for assistance.

Sure.

The air outside smelled fresh and clean, the trees swaying in the slight breeze. Clara led them to the corner where a bench was placed in front of the jewelry store there. They sat down, Clara nervous, though trying her best not to show it. She got a good look at Abby as the blonde got herself settled. Abby had cut her hair, now in a cute, somewhat sporty style. She was wearing jeans and a cap-sleeved tee that showed off toned arms and a very cute figure.

Well, first of all, welcome back, Abby began, placing her sunglasses over her eyes to block out the late afternoon sun.

Thank you. I guess its nice to be back, though it was nice to be away, too.

Yes, it is. My ex-husband and I moved to Ohio for a few years to be closer to his family, which was nice. But I have to say, it was nice to get back, too.

Claras mind raced back to the wedding and the man with dark hair who had been with Abby. She wondered if that was her ex.

The second reason I came to day is I want to talk to you. I need your help, Clara, and I hear Kerri wasnt very successful in talking to you about it.

Clara stared at her, stunned. Had Kerri been asking on Abbys behalf that day two weeks ago in her kitchen? That was about you? she blurted.

Abby nodded. I dont know what happened to you  Kerri never told me  but I do understand that you no longer dabble in the supernatural stuff anymore. If you wont help me, then is there maybe someone you know of who can? Or can I plead my case with you myself, directly?

Clara could almost hear her grandmother laughing at the position shed been put in. Here before her sat the woman shed been obsessed with since she was 14 years old, who was asking for her help. She was asking her to reclaim a life that she no longer wanted, a gift that had been wasted on the wrong person. Clara felt she was no good for anyone.

Let me think about it, okay? she asked, truly unsure of what to do.

Okay. I can take that. But, Abby said, pleading in her voice. whether you decide to help me or refer someone to me, I need help pretty soon. Here, she reached into her purse and brought out a ready-printed pieced of paper, an address and phone number on it. I own this place, and this is where the trouble is.

Clara looked at the address, unsure of exactly where it was. Okay. She tucked the paper away and stood up. I need to get back. Ill contact you within a couple days, okay?

Fair enough, Abby said, also standing, a bright smile on her face. Thank you so much, Clara. I never forgot that day you told me my grandmother would be okay after her surgery. That meant the world to me. With that, she turned and walked down the street to a bright blue SUV. She climbed in and drove away.

Clara walked back to the bakery, feeling a new kind of fatigue wash over her. Indecision weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Clara found herself standing on the banks of a river shed seen before. Across the lake was a beautiful, snow-capped mountain range, the reflection rippling in the gentle waves in the water. The golden sky above calm and peaceful. The pebbled beach spanned out to the right, curving around to fold the lake in a small pocket. To the left the beach disappeared into a thick wood that also lined the back side of the beach, opposite the water.

Looking down into the sand, Clara saw obvious footprints, which led towards the wooded area to her left. She followed, unsure of where she was going. She hadnt been to the Other Side for well over a year, and felt a curious mixture of joy and anger. The trees were thick and beautiful, their full branches reaching towards the sky in graceful arcs.

Up ahead and to the left she saw what appeared to be glass, light glinting off its smooth surface. She brushed a few low branches out of her way and was started to find herself standing directly in front of a cabin. The structure was so well-hidden that she almost missed it. The glass shed seen were actually the front windows of the two-story cabin. A large front porch stretched out to the full-length of the building, two rocking chair straddling the front door.

Clara felt a pull to the cabin, as she climbed the three stairs to the porch, running her hand along the smooth log rail. At the front door, she wasnt sure whether to knock, just help herself inside, or

It didnt matter as the door slowly swung open, its beveled glass panes reflecting Claras face for a brief moment.

Directly inside was a small sitting area, a ruggedly-built couch and chair inviting someone to sit and relax. The couch was along the wall to the right, the chair against a small portion of the staircase that ran behind it and up to a small landing before heading up the other direction to finally reach the second floor. To the left was the rest of the front, and what looked to be main, room. The wall was made up entirely of stone, a massive fireplace burning brightly at the center of the wall.

The room was empty, so Clara turned her attention to the stairs. She slowly made her way up, heart pounding. Why was she so nervous? She knew who would be waiting for her, but somehow she felt anxious. Was it anger? Was it guilt?

The upstairs was one large space, windows lining the walls, almost giving the appearance of a glass room. Light streamed in, bathing everything in the golden hue of the outside world of the Other Side. A bed was tucked into one corner, dwarfed by the shear size of the room. To the far right was a small nook where Rebecca sat in a chair, waiting.

Welcome home, Clara, she said softly, studying her granddaughter.

Clara said nothing, instead sitting next to the other woman. She could still feel her heart pounding in her chest. She couldnt bring herself to look at Rebecca.

You dont need to be afraid or nervous. You know I wont hurt you.

I know, Clara said, sparing a glance at the beautiful brunette. She blew out a breath, finally meeting the dark, penetrating, yet understanding eyes. Why am I here?

Because we need to talk. Ive sent you messages for the past year, all of which youve ignored, and thats fine. I understand what youve gone through. Ive listened to you curse me and the gifts you have. Now its time I get to tell my side of the story, and you will sit and listen.

Clara felt almost as though she were paralyzed to do anything else. She nodded, feeling the stern strength coming from her Spirit Guide.

Mike.

Clara took a deep breath at the mention of his name, trying to keep the images that haunted her still, out of her head.

You had no control over that. You could have never left your apartment that day, and it likely still would have happened. Mike was set on his own path, Clara. That is a path you were never meant to intervene with. He set his own obstacles for himself long before you knew him. He couldnt handle those, and chose to exit early. That is his fate to deal with, not yours, and dont take upon yourself.

I know, Rebecca continued, that youre anger at me was actually anger for yourself that you didnt know how to direct properly. You allowed your anger and grief to cloud your judgment. You made the right choice by going home, as that is where the rest of your path leads, Clara. But, she held up one finger to emphasize her point, you have made the wrong choice in turning your back on who and what you are. You feel that loss, dont you?

Clara didnt answer, instead, sitting quietly, hands tucked in her lap.

Your restlessness. Going back to the diet I asked you to follow. Your soul is crying out for you to be true to your path, Clara. You have the perfect opportunity now.

Clara truly looked at her for the first time. Abby?

Rebecca nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. Abby.

Chapter 40

Clara glanced down at the paper in her hand, making sure the address did in fact match that of the Stoney Brook, which she stood in front of. The pub was in one of the beautiful historical buildings in downtown. Brick and masonry gave the old building character.

She pushed through the glass and brass front door, which led into a small area where coats could be hung to allow the patrons free movement while they socialized inside. The bar, itself was a dimly lit room, old Tiffany lamps hung over the booths that lined the wall, the bulbs within a low wattage to keep the atmosphere intimate and low-key. The bar, which took up much of the center of the room with its horseshoe shape, had a highly-polished mahogany finish with brass fittings and padded stools.

At the center of the horseshoe was a mirrored divider wall where row after row of bottled alcohol were kept on wooden racks. Low music was piped through the room. At the back of the long room was a staircase, leading freely to whatever was on the second level. From the distant sounds of clanking balls, Clara guess there were pool tables up there.

A few patrons meandered around the classy place, some talking in booths, others sitting at the bar chatting with Abby, whos easy laughter could be easily heard. It made Clara smile. She walked over to the bar, taking a seat at the rounded hoop of the horseshoe. A red-headed man of maybe twenty-two walked over to her, a white towel flipped over his shoulder.

How can I help you? he asked, both hands pressed onto the bar top as he waited for her order.

A water, please. Im actually here to talk to Abby.

Water it is. He quickly had her drink in front of her, then sauntered over to his boss, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. He spoke quietly to her, pointing over in Claras direction. Abby immediately excused herself from the couple shed been talking to and walked over to where Clara sat.

Hey there! she said, leaning against the bar.

HI. Okay, so I lied and it took me three days to contact you.

Abby smiled, waving off her words. Its okay. I was beginning to wonder, though.

Yeah, sorry. So, you own this place?

I do, Abby said, obvious pride in her voice. She looked around, seeing it through someone seeing it for the first time, as she guessed Clara was. My husband had the harebrained idea of buying this place two years ago, then got bored with it, while I fell in love with it. Its all I wanted out of the divorce decree.

Good for you. Its really a nice place.

Thanks. Want the tour?

Yes, please.

Clara slid off the stool, leaving her water on the bar as she followed Abby around, trying to pay attention to the history of the building that was being told to her, and not to Abbys very shapely behind.

This, Abby said, indicating the small office shed led her to on the second floor, is where the majority of things happen.

What happens in here? Clara asked, walking in and looking around. She noted the old wood desk, a new Dell on top of the scarred surface. The roof sloped down slightly, so Clara ducked as she made her way towards the solitary window. Looking out she found herself looking down into an alley. She ran her fingers across the faces of the metal filing cabinets that lined the wall opposite the desk.

Lots of sounds. Ill be closing up at night and will hear something thud in here. Maybe voices, like actual conversation between two people. I come in  after I unlock the door, might I add  and find nothing. Ive come in here in the morning or afternoon when I come to do inventory, and the chair will be on the other side of the room, over by the window or file cabinets. Sometimes the computer will have magically turned itself on.

Okay, Clara said, keeping any thoughts or impressions to herself. She still wasnt positive that she was going to help. She still could defer Abby to someone else. Maybe Cassandra knew of someone local. What else?

Abby leaned against the wall, her hands pinned between her body and the wall. I didnt talk about this downstairs because I didnt want to scare anyone  customers, Ryan, anything. A lot happens down there, too, Clara. Glasses will fall and break. I smell cigar smoke a lot, which seems strange to me as Ive never seen anyone smoke them here, but its always possible that a customer has. Um, she glanced off towards the window as she thought of other things that had happened. Oh! The juke box upstairs will start up on its own sometimes. Scares the hell out of pool players, she grinned.

I bet. Clara shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking everywhere but at Abby. The blonde still made her as nervous as she had twelve years ago. What exactly are you wanting to happen here, Abby? she asked quietly.

I want it to stop. Its gotten worse in the past year or so, ever since we moved in a couple of the pool tables. I dont know why, and Im not sure that I care. Its scaring my patrons. Its scaring my employees, and honestly, its scaring the hell out of me. Pleading green eyes looked into Claras. Will you help me, Clara? Please? I dont know where else to go.

Clara looked into her eyes for a long moment, knowing full well that she had to help her. She nodded, letting out a long breath. Okay. Ill help you. Im a little rusty, so no guarantees, but Ill help you.

Thank you so much, Clara. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Ill pay you, of course. How much? Abby walked over to the desk and pulled out a drawer, plucking a checkbook out and tossing it to the top of the desk.

No. I dont want you to pay me, Clara said, waving the idea away. No money.

Why? Blonde brows drew. Isnt this what you do for a living?

Not anymore. Im just doing it to help you. Put that away.

Abby shut the drawer but did not put the checkbook away. Alright. For now. So, how do we start?

Clara sat in a mess that had been taken out of two boxes that shed dug out from her crawl space. She dug through the debris, looking for something she hadnt seen or touched since shed left California. She rooted through papers, books and random odds and ends. Finally she spotted what shed been looking for.

Ha! she exclaimed in victory, snatching the tiny velvet ring box, setting it next to the tiny leather bag shed already found.

After cleaning up her mess and stacking to two re-packed boxes in the all to put back into the crawl space later, Clara returned to her office, picking up the bag and box, setting them on the computer desk. She sat in the leather desk chair and stared at the two items for a moment, as though she could see the contents inside.

Letting out a long breath, she grabbed the bag first. Inside was a small yellowish colored stone. She held it between her fingers, feeling the cold smoothness against her skin. Holding the calcite up to the light, she could see all the imperfections inside the stone, as well as the flecks of mineral imbedded in the fragile sheets.

Long time since Ive seen you, she said softly, rubbing the marble-sized stone between her palms. Lets hope you still work, hmm?

Setting the stone aside, she grabbed the ring box, opening the creaking lid. Inside was the silver ring she once wore on her middle finger, the small amethyst stone gleaming up at her. She plucked the ring from its satin prison, sliding the cool silver onto her right middle finger. She gasped slightly, feeling the familiar energy of the stone pulse weakly through her finger.

It was said that Archangel Azrael oversaw all Mediums, as he was known as Angel of the Dead. Azrael was responsible for crossing the dead, as well as for helping those grieve after losing someone to death. The amethyst and calcite were his stones, encapsulating his energy and power. The energy between the stones helped to regulate the energy within Claras own body, making it flow easier, and with more clarity.

She swore shed never use them again. As she stared down at her finger, then took the calcite in her hand, she knew that vow was broken.

Stoney Brook was truly a creepy place at night when it was closed and most of the lights were off. Abby had given her the keys and let her roam as she pleased. The pub owner had asked to join her, but Clara declined. She felt it best if she could just walk around the place and get a vibe for it, let her mind reach out and see what it could find. What would reveal itself.

She walked through the main room of the pub, only the lights in the bar illuminated the large area. She didnt want lighting to interfere with her impressions. She could feel the calcite in her pocket and the silver and amethyst ring on her finger. Her own energy was strong as it surged throughout her body, reaching out into the room to see what she would find.

One thing Abby had asked for was some sort of proof of what was in her building. Clara knew she wouldnt be able to do that with her gifts alone, so she had arranged for the CPS  Colorado Paranormal Society  to come do an investigation the following night.

In the meantime, she was on her own. She made her way towards the stairs at the back of the room when she heard something behind her. Stopping, Clara held her breath, listening, able to hear the blood pounding through her ears. The sound of glass hitting glass caught her ear.

Turning slowly, Clara peered through the dimness, trying to spot the source. She saw nothing at the bar, the only places where any glasses were. Walking towards the bar, she was startled when one of the stools  stacked pad-down on the bar top  fell to the floor. Hand to her heart, Clara took a deep breath and blew it out.

Are you letting me know youre here? she asked, something inside her beginning to feel nervous. She felt as though there was something in the pub with her, watching her. No matter how much she tried to reach out with her senses, she couldnt quite grasp what it was. It almost felt as though whatever it was, was hiding from her.

Clara decided to head upstairs, see what else she could find there, as well as do some comparison with what shed been told by Abby. The stairs creaked with every step, the stairway dark. She could feel the darkness all around her, weighing in on her. She could feel a presence with her, watching her, almost as though it were stalking her.

Clara had barely reached the top of the stairs when she heard a loud thud, as though something had been thrown or dropped. She flicked on the first of the three light switches, which only lit two of the six hanging lights above the pool tables. The two lights sent a bright patch of light on the green felt of the tables, but left the rest of the room in relative darkness.

She made her way carefully through the room, not familiar-enough with the layout to not whack a leg on something. The last thing she wanted to do was break something in the pub, or something on herself. Just up ahead she could see the pitch blackness that was the office doorway, left open for her convenience. Abby had said that a good deal of the activity happened in that office, so Clara knew she had to give it a lot of attention.

She stopped at the opened door, looking inside the inky blackness. A chill traveled first up, then back down her spine as she felt the air within the room. She had noticed on her tour with Abby that the room was heavy, and made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but now, in the dark, in the territory of whatever lurked there, she felt downright afraid.

About to turn and head out for the night, basically seeing and feeling what she needed to feel, she heard the same bang within the office that shed heard when over by the pool tables. She reached a hand inside the room, gasping as a wisp of very cold air washed over her hand. She drew her hand back, holding it within her other hand. She had been touched by a spirit, and never liked the feeling. Within her life, and certainly within her spiritual life, shed felt a spirits energy many, many times. It was never easy to get used to, especially when it was unexpected and uninvited. It was a coldness unlike any other kind. Rather than starting from the outside and working its way in, as a cold breeze would, the chill from a spirit started from the inside and worked its way out. The feeling lingered for many minutes.

She reached into the room again, this time finding the light switch and flicking it on. She looked around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary: computer desk replete with computer, filing cabinets, open window-

Claras attention was drawn back to the open window. As she watched, the window slammed down to the sill below, making Clara jump in surprise. She studied the window, curious to see if it would move again. It was possible Abby had opened the window earlier in the day, as it was a warm day, and had forgotten to close it. After all, it was second-story window, so maybe she hadnt worried about it.

Stepping further into the room, Clara walked over to the desk, looking to see if anything looked out of place. Everything had been put away, the desk clear and clean. About to turn, something caught the corner of her eye. Turning back to the desk, Clara leaned over it, surprised to see the contents of one of the drawers dumped on the floor, the drawer itself lying on its side next to the rolling feet of the desk chair.

Bending down, Clara gathers the items and puts them back into the drawer, about to slide the drawer back into its slot when the office door moved. Her head whipped up at the sound  a low creak. She thought for a moment that shed imagined it, and turned back to her task. The drawer had just slid into place when she heard the creaking again.

Getting out from behind the desk, she watched for a moment, waiting for movement. Her heart was pounding, the room growing even more heavy than before, a cold chill washing through her. Whatever was there did not want her there.

Im leaving, she said quietly, but I will be back.

The journey back downstairs was fairly uneventful, though Clara swore she heard voices from time to time. If she didnt know better, shed almost think someone had broken into the place and was hiding, watching her, talking to someone.

As she walked past the bar, she gasped softly, seeing the glittering pieces of glass on the bar top and floor. Looking up to the glass rack above, she saw that three beer steins had either fallen, or been pushed, only to shatter upon contact. Looking further over the floor, she saw little shards glittering like diamonds.

My god.

This has happened before.

Clara yelled out, her heart jumping to her throat when she whirled to see Abby standing behind her. The blonde gave her own little yelp and jumped back at Claras violent reaction. Once their hearts began to beat again, they both burst into nervous, relieved laughter.

You scared the hell out of me! Clara said, hand still clutching her chest.

Im so sorry. I didnt think. Abby grabbed a napkin from a nearby dispenser to wipe at the tears from the laughter. That was classic, though. Truly classic.

Glad you thought so! Im still waiting for my heart to slow.

Abby sobered, looking over the mess of broken glass. This does happen a lot, though. I come in probably one to three times a week and find this, she indicated the glass shards scattered across the bar.

In response, Clara took one of the stools  which hadnt been bothered at all  down from the bar and climbed up onto the bar in its place.

Be careful of the glass, Clara, Abby said, watching carefully to make sure Clara didnt stick her knee right onto a dagger-like piece.

Clara examined the glass rack, checking for any loose screws either in the racks themselves, or within the hanging mechanism. Nothing. The rack was completely solid, as were the glasses being held within.

She jumped down, her shoes crunching broken glass upon landing back onto the floor. That thing is solid.

Abby nodded, grabbing a broom and dustpan from behind the bar. I know. I make sure all the time. The last thing I need is a lawsuit because this happens on some poor patrons head.

Clara helped by picking up the larger pieces, throwing them in the plastic trash can Abby provided. The crazy thing is, I was just upstairs and never heard a thing down here. Im sure that had to of sounded like a bomb going off when those fell. Look at the way they shattered, she held up a sliver of glass. Those are some heavy-duty steins. Those things would have to of been literally thrown at the bar to shatter like that.

I know. I dont understand this.

We need to talk about some things, but I dont think this is the place to do it. Clara glanced at her watch. Its almost midnight-thirty, and Im beat. I appreciate you closing the place down early so I could do this, Abby.

No, Abby said, shaking her head as she finished the last of the cleanup. I appreciate you doing this. I still want to pay you.

Clara smiled. Buy me a beer sometime.

You got it. Okay, so when do you want to talk?

Are you available in the morning? Ive got the next couple days off from the bakery to do this, so… They cleaned up their mess, turned off the bar lights and walked to the door together. We have the team coming in tomorrow night, and you wont be here for that-

Why wont I be? Abby asked, stopping Clara with a hand to her arm just shy of the front door.

Clara looked at Abby, her features lit only by the moonlight outside. She could see the fear in her eyes, yet the determination on her face. She was amazed at just how much of the beautiful teenage girl she still saw there in the thirty year old woman before her. Abby, she began, her voice soft and filled with understanding. This is a really scary situation. I dont want you to have to be exposed to that anymore than you already are.

And I do appreciate that, but Clara, this, she indicated the room they stood in, is my livelihood. Ive put my heart and soul into this business, not to mention a lot of money, and Im not about to let some ghost destroy that.

Clara studied her for a long moment, gauging her earnestness. She could see the fire in those green eyes, and literally feel the energy coming off Abby in waves. Finally she nodded. Okay. Come to my house in the morning and well talk. Okay?

Abby nodded vigorously. Absolutely! Where do you live?

Chapter 41

Clara glanced at the clock above the stove as she brushed her hair back from her face, careful to pick out the few tangles from her recent shower. Abby was due at her house within five minutes. She had woken late, causing her to run around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to get the house ready for Abbys arrival.

She had just poured herself a glass of orange juice when the doorbell rang.

Good morning! Abby chirped, after being let inside. She walked into the living room, taking a look around at the small, yet beautifully decorated, very comfortable room. I like your house.

Thank you. Can I offer you coffee or juice? Clara asked, leading the way towards the kitchen.

Abby followed. Coffee, if you have it.

I do. Leaded or unleaded? she asked, opening the fridge door to show she had a canister of both.

Mmm, better go with decaf.

Decaf it is. Clara began to make the coffee, offering Abby a seat at the table. Did you sleep?

Abby sighed, sitting back in the chair and glancing out the window. A bird flew by, nearly hitting the window with its beating wings. Not really. My mind is spinning right now, trying to figure out what Im going to do about this problem at the Stoney Brook. She sighed, heavy and tired. Im just not sure.

Well, then I guess its a good thing youre not the one who has to worry about. Right? Clara said, sitting across from her sisters friend, who she still couldnt believe was in her house.

Abbys smile was a bit sheepish, which Clara thought was adorable. I guess not. Im not a fan of asking for help, Clara. If I cant do it myself, it doesnt need to be done. She smiled ruefully. My ex-husband hated that trait in me.

Why? Its an admirable trait. Clara pushed back from the table and grabbed a mug for Abby, pouring her a cup. She delivered the coffee with the requested creamer and sugar. Did your ex not like strong women?

Abby shrugged, preparing her coffee. He thought he did. Her grin was mischievous. But, once we were actually married and he saw that it wasnt something that could simply be turned off, he wasnt such a fan.

I see. Clara sat down again, sipping her orange juice. Weak men usually dont like strong women. She thought for a moment. Come to think of it, I dont think any man likes a strong woman.

Amen to that. They were quiet for a moment before Abby broke the silence. Can I ask you something, Clara?

Of course.

Why did you stop using your gift?

The question was asked with such genuine curiosity, and not with an ounce of judgment, Clara felt she had no choice but to answer honestly. When I was in Los Angeles, my best friends name was Michael James. I met him virtually the first day I arrived there, and we got close quick. She took a sip of her juice, stalling for a few moments reprieve of what was to come. Mike had some issues with depression, and finding love. Lethal combination. He hoped hed finally maybe found someone, but Jeff was an asshole, like all the others. Wanted Mikes money, not his heart. I broke the door down in my apartment to find that Mike had slit his wrists in my bathtub.

Abby stared at her. She could tell Clara was trying to put on a brave face, her tone steady and void of emotion, but behind her twilight eyes, Abby could see the real story. That absolutely devastated you, didnt it? she asked quietly, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug to keep from squeezing one of Claras hands. She wasnt sure how the younger woman would react to that kind of physical contact; Clara seemed a bit of a touch-me-not.

Clara nodded, blowing out a quiet breath. It was rough.

Why did that, as horrible as it was, make you give up your lifes work?

Whats the good of having this so-called gift if I cant even save those I love most? You were at Jasons funeral, Abby. You remember what happened to him. I couldnt save him, either.

Maybe it was just Jasons time to go, Clara, Abby reasoned. It may sound like a clichéd blanket statement, but I believe everything happens for a reason. There are no accidents or coincidences.

But, I was shown both deaths in advance. Why? Why when I couldnt get there in time to stop it?

Because maybe you were never meant to stop it. Did you think of that? Abby asked with a raised brow in challenge. Maybe your grandmother was kind enough to show you those things so youd be prepared when they happened. You were close to both of those guys, and likely she knew it. You think?

Clara was quiet for a long moment, trying to wrap a stubborn mind around what shed just been told. It made sense, she had to admit, even if she didnt want to. She sipped her juice in lieu of saying anything.

Dont walk away from your gift. This time Abby did reach out and lightly touch one of Claras hands, wanting to convey the seriousness of her plea. There are so many that youve touched and helped. You must know that.

Taking a deep breath, Clara nodded. I suppose.

Abby smiled, amused by the stubborn set of Claras words and jaw. Something tells me thats the best Im going to get out of you, but Ill take it. For now. She put on a bright smile to show change of subject. So, what are you going to do at my pub tonight?

For the second night in a row, Abby closed the pub an hour early so the CPS could get in and set up. The Stoney Brook owner watched in amazement as four men and a woman walked in, each carrying sophisticated camera equipment and other technical devices that she had no clue what they were used for.

Abby, this is Jordan Crossland. Hes head of the CPS, Clara introduced.

Hi, Jordan. Welcome to the Stoney Brook. Abby shook the African American mans hand, giving him a friendly smile.

Thanks. Great place, he said, looking around the main bar room. Well get everything set up then Ill explain to you what were doing, okay?

Sounds great. Anything I can do to help?

Nope. For now just sit tight. He flashed her a brilliant smile then hurried off to help his team, glancing once over his shoulder to get a second look at the beautiful blonde pub owner. He whistled quietly between his teeth in approval.

This is quite the set up theyve got here, Abby commented, not even noticing Jordans obvious attraction to her.

it is, Clara admitted, her gaze roaming to Jordan, who kept sneaking glances over at Abby. From everything Ive seen and heard, these guys are good. They know what theyre doing.

Good. Abby blew out a nervous breath, feeling her heart begin to pound at the prospect of actually seeing something on tape.

Clara studied her for a moment, Abby so caught up in her own nerves, she didnt even notice the scrutiny. Abby? Clara said softly, lightly touching the blondes arm. Are you okay to be here? she asked once she had Abbys attention. You can go, you know. Ill make sure these guys stay professional and nothing goes wrong.

Oh, no. No, thats not why Im here. I need to be here, Clara. Like I told you last night: Ive put everything into this place, into making it a success. I mean, hell, I even survived an awful divorce to win it. Im not letting something scare me out of here. Okay?

Clara nodded, respecting Abbys gumption. Okay.

However, Abby added, a sheepish smile in place. Can I stick with you tonight? I am a little creeped out.

Clara chuckled with a nod. Sure.

By 1 a.m. the equipment had been placed and lights were out. Jordan and his second-in-command, Abraham Schwartz decided to hit the pub with the thermal camera. It was a camera that detected its surroundings via heat source, showing up on the screen in colored degrees of heat and cold. Jordan held the camera as Abe held the accompanying clamshell screen.

Tammy Boyd stayed at central command, set up in the CPSs van outside. The last two members of the team, Jerome Kyle and Juan Armijo headed downstairs to do an EMF sweep. Clara and Abby were left on the main floor to do some EVP work.

Abby held her small flashlight tight in her hand. Though shed been in the pub millions of times in all types of lighting  or lack thereof  yet had never felt quite as uncomfortable as she did walking around during the CPS investigation.

What is an EMF sweep? she asked, referring to the two guys in the basement.

It stands for Electro Magnetic Field. Youve talked about a lot of your employees feeling like theyre being watched or really uncomfortable up here, so theyre making sure you dont have a fear cage in the building, Clara explained.

Um, can I have that in non-Ghostbuster lingo, please?

Chuckling, Clara explained. High EMFs can cause those symptoms, plus nausea and some other nasties. Basically, wires that are old, copper or leak can cause high EMF readings, and can cause whats referred to a fear cage. It can effect the surrounding area, or if its bad enough, sometimes the floor directly above.

Abby stared at her for a moment, a perplexed look on her face. How the hell do you know this stuff?

Clara grinned. Ive done a few of these. I used to work with a paranormal group from time to time in California.

Ah. Gotcha. They headed to a small room off the main bar where tables were set up. During the day the Stoney Brook served lunch, and many of the diners chose to eat in there. So, what are we doing, then?

EVP. Clara held up the small tape recorder she held, the silver body glinting briefly in the beam of her flashlight. Electronic Voice Phenomena. Its where you catch a voice on tape that you didnt hear with your own ears. Pretty soon well find a place to settle in and try some. She glanced at her companion. You game?

My head is spinning, but yes. Im game.

Amused, Clara led on.

Upstairs Jordan and Abe made their way into the pool table room. Abraham studied the clamshell screen of the thermal. The pool tables appeared blue and green, no living heat radiating from them. Jordan swung the camera around, and Abraham nearly jumped out of his skin.

Whoa! Wait, dude. What was that?

Jordan walked over to him, Abe rewinding the tape to find the spot that had got his attention. As Jordan had swung the camera, a quick flash of a red and yellow object jumped in front of the lens before it was gone.

What is that? Abe asked, pausing on the object.

Jordan studied it for a moment, running a hand over his short-cropped hair then goatee. Oh! he chuckled, using his finger to point. I caught your reflection in that mirror, he shined his flashlight up to catch the shiny surface in its beam. A long mirror ran along the length of the back of the room, STONEY BROOK etched into the glass.

Abe laughed. Okay. Lets keep going.

They continued through the second floor at a slow pace, wanting to make sure Jordan was able to scan everything, as well as they didnt want to run into anything. Jordan had been in the pub a couple times before, but hadnt been upstairs. He did, however wonder how hed missed seeing Abby. Hed have to come in a little more often and talk with the pretty pub owner.

Jordan, Abe hissed, stopping the larger man with a hand to his arm. Did you hear that?

Jordan instantly stopped, pulling his mind out of the gutter to listen. He could hear the blood pounding through his body, then breathing. He glanced over at his friend, noting that Abe was standing to his right and slightly behind him. He listened harder, trying to figure out where the breathing was coming from.

Its over there, he whispered, pointing off to their left. Abe nodded, though Jordan couldnt see it in the darkness. Jordan turned the camera, pointing it in the direction, which was back towards the two first pool tables. On top of one of the tables were a red and yellow smudge, almost as though something had just been sitting there and had gotten up.

A heat signature, Abe commented, showing Jordan the screen.

That is bizarre, Jordan murmured, studying the area around the heat signature, then comparing it to what his flashlight was showing him, which was nothing. No one there. Why dont you get a roll call real quick.

Abe unclipped the radio from his belt and did a check to see where everyone else was in the building. He shook his head. Nope. Everyone else is downstairs. No one has come up here at all.

Okay. Lets go check it out. They walked to the pool table, the heat signature beginning to fade slightly. Jordan handed the camera to his friend.

Abe watched as Jordan stepped into view, his body a mass of red hot heat with yellow signatures throughout. He could discern the big mans shape easily. He laid a hand on the green felt top, quickly removing it. Left behind was a signature mark in the perfect shape of a red and yellow handprint.

It wasnt a hand, Abe said. its smaller than your hand.

Smaller, huh? Hmm. Jordan stroked his goatee. Okay. Well, well look at it later during analysis. Lets keep going.

Jerome held a flashlight in his right hand, the EMF detector in his left. The EMF was a simple black device with a gray readout screen. He swept it up towards the ceiling where he saw a lot of bundled wires clamped.

Getting a base EMF of about 0.2, he said.

Juan stood nearby, though was only half-listening to his friend. He was beginning to get the heebie jeebies as he shone the beam of his flashlight out across the basement. The large room wasnt finished, but was instead used for storage. The walls were brick, just like the rest of the place, the floor cement. Blacked-out windows lined one wall. At the end of the room were stacked crates filled with product for the pub upstairs. In the back corner was an old, burnt-out furnace, obviously not what kept the place warm. It looked like it hadnt been run in ore than a hundred years.

Man, this place is freaky, he muttered, turning back to his friend.

Nah, Jerome said, aiming his EMF in a different direction. Nuthin here to be worried about, Johnny. He climbed down from the step-ladder hed been standing on to get a better reading near the wires. Putting the ladder back where hed found it, he turned to face the rest of the basement. Well, their EMFs are good, here. Nothing from that.

Yeah, because there is something here, Jerry, Juan insisted. Dont you feel it? Man, its just like, negative here.

Pussy, Jerome chided, leading the way back towards the stairs. Come on. Nothing down here but booze and cobwebs. Lets trade places with another team. He was turning to head towards the stairs when he jumped and whirled around to face empty space.

Juan nearly jumped out of his skin, his defenses already on high alert. What?

Jerome reached a hand up, touching the back of his neck and head, then shone his flashlight to the spot where hed felt the touch. He looked for the tell-tale glitter of a spider web. He saw nothing.

What happened? Juan asked, shining his flashlight nervously around their immediate surroundings. Hed gone on more than twenty investigations with CPS, but had yet to feel as uncomfortable as he did at the Stoney Brook.

I dont know, Jerome said, once again running a hand over his hair. I felt something. He jerked again, this time his flashlight nearly tumbling from his hand. What the fuck! He grabbed at his hair again, turning his back towards his fellow investigator. Man, do I gotta bug or spider or something on me?

Juan raised the flashlight to look, pushing Jeromes shaggy brown hair aside, but seeing nothing. He pulled the neckline of his t-shirt down, eyes widening in surprise. Dude, he exhaled, shocked to see two parallel red lines running down the back right side of Jeromes neck. Who scratched you?

What are you talking about? Jerome moved away from Juans prying eyes, feeling for himself. He wined at the sting. I dont know. I didnt know I was scratched back there.

Juan turned his friend around once more to get a second look. Theyre fresh, Jerry. I dont think the skin is broken, but them werent there a few minutes ago, dude. Them are new.

Clara was impressed with how Abby had handled things over the investigation. Theyd been sitting in the perfect darkness in the dining area for more than an hour. The flashlights had been turned off, Clara wanting to get a true reading of the room. Psychically she could feel at least two presences near them. Theyd heard a couple bumps, and a bump overhead, which they attributed to Jordan and Abe upstairs. Twenty minutes ago theyd started their EVP session. Abby had been a trooper the whole way.

Why are you here? the pub owner asked in the darkness, sitting no ore than two feet away from Clara. She felt comfort in Claras presence. Somehow there was a peace and a calm to the Medium that helped immensely. When it was all said and done, and her pub was cleared of its uninvited guests, she hoped that Clara would want to stay in contact. Since the first time shed met the younger woman, way back when Clara couldnt have been more than thirteen or fourteen, shed been intrigued by her. She had never liked it when Kerri had referred to Clara as a freak, as shed always thought what Clara could do was wonderful, not freakish.

Clara waited a few moments then added her own question. What is your name? She waited a beat. What do you want from Abby?

Do you ever get a response? Abby asked, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling a chill in the air.

sometimes.

What does an EVP sound like? Is it as clear as you and me?

Clara shrugged. Not always. It really depends. It depends on how close the spirit was when they spoke, how far into the after shadow they are. Theres a lot of considerations.

They sat in silence for a long moment, Abby glancing over at her companion for a moment. She was curious about the Medium. Are you glad you moved back home?

Clara was quiet for a moment, surprised at the change in topic. She looked in the blondes direction, unable to see her in the dark. She thought about the question for a long moment, wanting to answer honestly. In some ways, yes. In most ways, I guess.

But? Abby asked, sensing the hesitation in her voice.

But, I hope I did it the right way. I hope I didnt do something rash when I left L.A. the way I did. You know, like I acted on emotion rather than logic. Or even practicality.

Did you have a lot of friends there? A lot going for you?

Clara shrugged. Yes and no. Mike was my one real friend. I had acquaintances, people Id read for. But nobody special.

No girlfriends? Abby asked, letting Clara know she knew she was gay.

Clara chuckled. Guess Kerri filled you in pretty good, huh?

Abby smiled, though it went unseen. Yes. She told me a lot about you over the past ten years.

Such as?

Before Abby was able to answer, they heard footfalls on the stairs in the main pub, followed by the voices of Jordan and Abraham.

Come on, Clara said, rising to her feet from her chair. Lets go meet the guys.

Chapter 42

Clara woke up, disoriented, but well-rested. The room was dim, and she realized why when she saw that the blinds had been drawn. Who did that? She knew she hadnt. Rolling over, she saw the bedside clock, and was surprised to see that it read 10:17.

I havent slept this late since college, she muttered, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Blinking several times, she took in her surroundings again. The bed was far too comfortable to be her own. It took a moment to remember that she was sleeping in Abbys guest room. Why? It had been a long night, and she had to think back over the events at the Stoney Brook.

Theyd wrapped up the investigation at nearly four in the morning. Clara had been dragging, to say the least, considering she was used to going to bed at eight or nine at night and waking up at three in the morning. Shed been so tired, shed forgotten to grab her house and car keys from inside the pub. Rather than having to go and unlock the place, Abby had invited her to stay in her guest room.

Oh, Clara muttered, sitting up. Thats why.

She pushed the sheet and light blanket off her and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the soft carpet. Beyond the door she could hear soft music, muffled from distance. Figuring Abby was awake, she decided it was time for her to get her things together and get home.

Clara walked over to a hope chest that rested under the window, surprised to see her clothing folded in a neat pile, her keys on top of the clothing. Shaking her head in amusement and gratitude, she quickly pulled her jeans on, removing the s-shirt shed slept in to put her bra on, then putting the shirt back in place. Keys in her pocket, she made up the bed and headed out of the room.

Following the sounds of Billie Holiday and the sell of bacon, Clara found Abby in the kitchen, softly humming to the sultry tones of Ill Be Seeing You.

Good morning! Abby chirped, in a wonderful mood as she prepared breakfast for her and her guest.

Morning. Clara looked around the large, open space, she saw dishes filled with fragrant foods, covered to keep them warm until served. Abby was pouring herself a cup of coffee. Ill get out of your way so you can eat your breakfast, she said, wincing at the very audible sound of her stomach growling in response to the most wonderful aromas.

Abby chuckled, pouring a second cup of the decaf brew. Not if your stomach has anything to do with it. Sit down, Clara. Youre not going anywhere.

With a sheepish smile, Clara did as she was told. Can I help you?

Nope. Abby brought the two mugs to the table, setting one in front of the Medium, as well as a small container of skim milk and Splenda. I remembered you cant have sugar, she explained.

Clara was stunned. Did you get this stuff special?

Abby shrugged, her own sheepish grin in place. I woke up early. Did you find your keys?

I did, thank you.

Sure. I figured I can drop you off at the pub later so you can get your car. Unless, that is you have somewhere you need to be?

Clara shook her head. No. Youve got me for however long you want me. Excellent! Then Id like to talk with you today. Feel like spending some time with me? Ive never really gotten to just talk to you, pick your brain. Your gift fascinates me. Besides, Abby added, beginning to carry dishes to the table. I want to hear all about your time in Los Angeles.

Clara nodded, thrilled at the prospect. You got it. Id like you to catch me up on what youve been up to for the past fifteen years, too.

Well, then weve got something in common. But, for now, eat! I made a feast.

Clara was in absolute bliss as she ate her breakfast. The food was amazing, and the wonderful, calm feel of Abbys two-story Victorian was a comfort to her. She was more curious than ever about the woman who sat across the table from her. The longest amount theyd ever really spent talking was that night when Clara had run out of her fathers house when she was 15. Abby had taken the time to talk to her and try and help her through her teenage issues.

As though reading Claras mind, Abby said, So, did you ever find a way to deal with what happened between your parents when you were a kid? The beak up? I mean, I know they obviously worked things out eventually, but



Clara nodded, pushing her plate away, full. She wiped her mouth before answering. Yes. My dad and I have had some tough times, though. The problem is, were too much alike. Stubborn. Abby smiled at that. We fought over my going to college, which I did for a whole whoppin year. We fought about my being gay. We fought about my heading to California. She rolled her eyes as she sipped her coffee. Finally, when I came back for their wedding we had a good heart to heart. I think he had to realize that Im an adult, and are going to do what Im going to do. His blessings or no.

I was at the wedding. I was surprised to see you. Youd kind of disappeared for awhile, then poof! There you were.

Yes, replete in dress in everything, Clara said ruefully.

Hey, I thought you looked beautiful! Youre too hard on yourself.

Clara took her time setting her mug on the table, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. Thank you, she said quietly. I saw you, and who I assume was your ex, sitting in the third row back. I was pretty surprised to see you there.

Why?

Clara shrugged. I guess I didnt realize you and Kerri had stayed friends after school. I wasnt sure what you had done: gone off to school. Moved away, whatever.

I see. Abby leaned back in her chair, running a hand through short, blonde hair. Nope. I met my ex a year after I graduated high school, and we got serious fairly quickly. I married him, against my better judgment, and even more against my better judgment, I moved to Ohio with him to be close to his family. Thats when things really started to fall apart. I wasnt happy there, wasnt happy with him, so to try and save the marriage, he agreed to move back here. We did and bought the Stoney Brook. It was too late. I wanted out, and here I am.

Is your ex still here? In town?

Abby nodded. I see him from time to time. For some reason he likes to parade his newest girlfriend in front of me and have a drink at the pub. She chuckled, shaking her head. Its pretty stupid. I could honestly care less.

Clara was amused. Sounds like something my first girlfriend would have done. Oh man, Erica. She wouldnt leave me alone. You know, even once I moved to California, and wed been broken up for like five years, she still tried to get hold of me. It was crazy. She drained her coffee, pushing the cup aside.

Have you seen or spoken to her since youve come back?

Nope. No desire to, either. Her mom was a really cool lady, though. She owns The Pagan down on Prairie. At least she did. Not sure if its still there or not.

Ive driven past it, never been inside. Abby pushed away from the table, clearing their dishes and setting them in the sink. She retuned with the coffee carafe, refilling both their mugs. So tell me about some of the people you read for while in California. Anyone famous? she asked, sitting back down and fixing her coffee.

Clara put her hand to her chest in mock astonishment. Are you asking me to divulge secrets of my business?

Abby nodded. Pretty much.

Well, in that case. Yes. I did read for some famous people.

Abby was so intrigued by all the stories Clara told her about her adventures in L.A. that she totally forgot about her coffee. Before she knew it, it had grown cold, and was pushed away.

Youre serious? He wanted a reading?! she asked, astonished at the story of the famous rocker from the 1970s who had sat on Claras couch.

Im very serious. Nice guy, too. Clara sat back in her chair, satisfied to know that Abby had listened to every word shed said, only interrupting to ask questions or to clarify something.

Do you miss it? All the glitz and glam? Abby asked, a conspiratorial gin on her face.

Clara shook her head. No, to be honest. Its not a real world out there, Abby. Its fake. Yeah, people are nice, theyre polite. But at the end of the day, its all about business. Its all about connections. I had a hard time with that. I got mixed up in the party life for awhile, because thats all I found. What really made me see what I had become was this woman I was seeing, Leah. She was a model. Well, in name only. Truth be told, she was so stoned or drunk all the time, she couldnt get or keep jobs. Pretty pathetic. She shook her head at the memory of the beautiful, yet hopelessly lost woman. That wasnt long before Michael killed himself.

Wow, Abby said, shaking her head sadly. You hear about stories like that on TV. You know, the Entertainment Tonight kind of shows. So its all true, huh? The young people ruining themselves with too much partying.

Young people, old people, you name it. Not my cup of tea.

And this is? she asked, indicating the kitchen around them, and the town beyond.

Clara thought for a moment, then nodded. For now. I cant tell you this is where I want to retire, but for right now it works. She studied Abby for a moment, noting the blondes features had taken on the look of someone very disturbed by something. Whats up? Whats on your mind?

Abby sat back in her chair, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. Give me your expert opinion, Clara. Whats going on in my pub?

Clara rested her elbows on the table, chin on her folded hands. Truthfully, I feel youve got several entities in your place. I want to do some research on the building, find out what purposes its served since it was built, as well as the land around it. Get an idea for whats going on, maybe. Do you know much of the history?

Abby shook her head. Where can we go to find that out? I want to help you with this, so whatever we need to do, just say the word.

Clara nodded. Excellent. Well need to start at the library and Hall of Records.

Let me clean this up and well go today.

Four hours later, they sat across from each other at the very coffee shop Abby used to work at in high school, each had a stack of printed pages in front of them.

Okay, Abby said, sipping from her latte before setting it aside. What I got from the Hall of Records is that the building was built in 1853 by Meyer Spence. It was originally used as a canning factory for his fruit preserves business. Later, it was taken over as a girls boarding school, and finally in 1931 as the headquarters for a local Elks Club Chapter. It sat vacant for about twelve years before it was bought in 1955 by Reginald Beeman and turned into apartments. That lasted for almost thirty-seven years before it was turned into the Turnkey, which are the owners that my ex and I bought the place from.

Okay. Good work, detective, Clara complemented, grabbing her own stack of research and preparing to present it. What I found out at the library is as follows. She shuffled through the papers, looking for the juicier tidbits shed found while Abby had been at the Hall of Records, which was across the street.

Like you, I found the Spence record, except one thing I did find there was a woman by the name of Ruth Macon was killed there when the hem of her dress got caught in one of the machines.

Abby wrinkled her nose. Ouch. That had to be messy.

Undoubtedly. So, things were fairly quiet for about a hundred years or so, until 1971. Back then they were the Beeman apartments. A woman and her boyfriend - Scarlet Fisher, but I couldnt find his name  moved in that spring. There had been problems with them as tenants from the very beginning, according to the newspaper article. Scarlets nephew Frederick moved in with them that summer when he was just seven years old.

Well, I guess the boyfriend had a heroin habit, and liked to beat on his girlfriend and the kid whenever he couldnt find the money to get his fix. She tugged a sheet of paper out of the stack and slid it across the table for Abby to see.

Oh wow, she blew out, taking the page between her fingers. The grainy black and white image showed a man with long, stringy hair being led away in handcuffs in the foreground. In the background a gurney was being rolled towards an awaiting ambulance, a blood-soaked body on top. Behind the gurney, a small bundle zipped in a body bag was being carried out by two uniformed officers. How terrible.

Scarlet died on the way to Park Meadow Hospital. Both she and her nephew had been bludgeoned. Frederick was dead when authorities arrived, thanks to a call from the neighbor across the hall. A Mrs., she glanced down at another sheet, Gertrude Whippley.

Thats so tragic, Abby said absently, looking at the assortment of pictures Clara handed her. They were snapshots of the inside of the building at the time, when the apartments had originally been walled off. The walls were long gone, leaving only the open space of the second and third floors. She looked at a picture that taken in the building hallway, outside of Scarlets apartment. The door was open, police officers seen inside gathering evidence. From the far right corner of the picture she could barely make out a bit of light shining in, and knew it was from the window at the end of the hall.

Clara watched her carefully, curious to see if anything would ring with her in some way. It appeared something had. What is it? she asked, slowly peeling the muffin pan paper from the bottom of her banana nut muffin.

This apartment, Abby said, turning the page so Clara could see where her finger tapped. I bet you money where their apartment was is right where the office is upstairs. See? This is the window at the end of the hall, I think.

Oh, wow. Clara took the page and sat back in her chair, examining it. Though Abby knew that building better than anyone, it didnt take a resident to see what she meant. I think youre right. They exchanged a knowing look. Tossing the page to the table, Clara blew out a breath. Jordan is supposed to get with me today about what was found last night. Once I go over that with him, Ill bring it over your house and we can go from there. Okay?

Abby nodded, hugging herself as she felt slightly uneasy. Okay.

Theres nothing to worry about, Abby. All a spirit is is a person without a body. Theyre just energy. They cant hurt you. When they do what they do, its simply to get your attention. It wants help, or simply wants to interact with you. Unfortunately, making noise and breaking glasses is part of what its limited to do.

But, why does it feel so negative? Abby asked, brow creased in concern.

Clara thought about that for a moment, trying to think of what to say. Shed felt the same negative energy there, especially in the second floor office. She wanted to be careful, as scaring Abby, or making her even more uneasy wasnt an option. She wanted to be honest with her, but, there was a fine line.

Well, I think the best way to think of it is in terms of people. As I said, spirits are essentially just that. There are negative people out there, or people who you just dont like or feel comfortable around. Usually because theyve got a, bad vibe, she explained, using her fingers as quote marks. Spirits are the same thing, except even more potent. All they are is energy, is vibe, so youre going to feel that amplified.

Okay, I get that, Abby nodded, sipping from her latte. She stared into its creamy depths for a moment. Have you managed to make contact with anything, yet? Know whos there? You said you think there are more than one. Any ideas of who?

If youre asking if anything has come right out and introduced itself to me, the answer is no, Clara said, grinning.

Cute. Abby threw the crinkled up wrapped from her sugar packet at the Medium. I dont know how all this stuff works  what you see, what you dont.

I have no idea who they are. Ill have to go to the after shadow to do that.

Whats that?

The land of the dead.

Abby blinked at her several times, not sure what to say. Okay, she drawled, shaking her head. How exactly does one get to the after shadow?

Clara smiled, amused by Abbys reaction. A lot of concentration. And, she added, a little help from my grandmother.

Chapter 43

Clara sat on Jordans couch, watching as he forwarded through footage, finally stopping it on the spot he was looking for.

This, he explained, pausing the image on the screen so he could explain what Clara was about to see. was when me and Abe were up in the small attic area. She has mostly dust up there, a few mouse droppings. And this- he pushed play.

Clara studied the image. The room was basically bare, save for a few old boxes that were tucked towards the back. The rafters could be seen above on the slanted roof. At the very end of the long attic was a window, the night obviously visible beyond.

Now, he continued, as you know, the cameras we use can see in total darkness. I had just climbed up there, Abe right behind me. He raised the FLIR just in time to catch this.

Claras eyes were drawn to the window, then in a split second, something moved in front of it, completely blocking out the incoming moonlight, before it was gone again. Whoa! she exclaimed, sitting forward in her seat. Can I see that again?

You got it. Jordan rewound the tape. This time when he played it, he played it in slow motion. Watch this, Clara. You can actually see what looks to be an arm when you slow it down.

Attention fully caught, Clara watched as the what appeared to be a full-bodied shadow ducked in front of the window, then was gone as soon as it appeared. And, she also noted what Jordan saw. It was almost as though an arm had been swung out, like a person quickly moving out of the way of prying eyes.

Stunned, she sat back in her chair, staring at the paused image, frozen on the screen. That is one of the creepiest things Ive ever seen, she said at length, still staring at the figure. As she looked at where the head would be, she felt almost as if the shadow were looking directly back at her. A shiver passed through her spine. It was almost as if through the frozen image on the screen she could feel rage coming through.

What do you think? Jordan asked quietly.

Clara sighed heavily. I think this is going to freak Abby out, she said, glancing at him. Badly.

I thought Id go over there with you to share this with her.

That wont be necessary, Clara snapped, immediately regretting the sharp tone in her voice. She smiled, trying to lighten the sudden tension. I think shell take it better from me, Jordan. Not from some guy who wants to drool all over her.

He stared at her for a moment then finally nodded, reluctantly agreeing. Ive got more to show you.

Abby was nervous to see what had been caught in her pub, but knew she had to. She had asked for it, so now had to face it. She and Clara sat in Claras living room, an array of electronic equipment spread out over Claras coffee table.

We can start with video, pictures or EVPs. Whats your poison? As she looked at Abby, waiting for her answer, she could actually feel the waves of nervousness coming from the older woman. She wanted so badly to find a way to comfort her, but didnt know how. She knew she had to keep her distance, as she didnt want to get too attached. She had the sense that were she to spend any great deal of time with Abby, thats exactly what would happen.

Lets start out small. Show me the pictures, Abby finally managed, rubbing her sweating palms on the thighs of her jeans.

Alright. Pictures it is.

Abby took the handful of printed images into her hands, slowly looking through them, sometimes unsure of what exactly she was looking at.

Okay, these, Clara explained, pointing at the white, seemingly glowing balls that were frozen in the image forever, are orbs. There are varying theories on those. Personally, Im not impressed by them. Some say theyre buts, some say theyre dust, others say theyre actually balls of energy caught floating around, while others still insist that theyre spirits.

What do you think? Abby asked, glancing over at Clara.

I think theyre either dust, bugs or simply balls of energy. I have yet to experience a spirit showing itself to me in this form. But, she shrugged, I could be wrong.

I trust you, Clara. What you say goes.

No, let your own mind make your decisions, Abby. I can try and help guide you, but ultimately, you have to feel comfortable with what you see, learn and experience.

Abby looked at Clara for a long moment, a slow smile spreading across her face. She handed her the pictures back, all of which were filled with orbs. Whats next, Yoda?

Clara chuckled. Well, what gives you the heebie jeebies more: to hear something and not see it, or to see it and not hear it?

Oh. Boy. Again, she ran sweaty palms on her thighs. I guess to hear it would be a little less creepy for me.

Okay. She opened the laptop Jordan had let her borrow. The program on the laptop had been able to take the EVPs from the small recorders used and digitally clean them up. Heres the first one, which was caught between Juan and Jerome on the first floor. At first youll hear them talking. Its right after Jerome says, Nice glasses.

Okay.

The laptop screen showed sound patterns, spiking higher at higher levels of sound. Clara tapped the touchpad to start the program. At first all they heard was mild static, picked up from air currents around them, as well as various miscellaneous noises. Juan and Jerome began to talk.

Hey, Juan, lets go over by the bar, Jerome said, the sound of a chair being moved out of his way making the sound spike jump.

Cool, Juan said in answer.

There was a pause for a moment as the men got settled in at the bar, where theyd pulled down stools and had sat down. Nice glasses, Jerome commented.

Mine. Not yours

Abby nearly jumped in surprise, her hands flying to cover her mouth. She looked at Clara wide-eyed. Oh my god, she breathed.

Clara could only nod in understanding, knowing there was far more in their evidence that would upset the pub owner.

The two men continued to talk, oblivious to their gravelly-voiced companion.

I wonder how much a stein like that costs, Juan asked.

Dunno. More than you got. Both men chuckled. Okay, lets get to work.

Can you tell us your name? Juan said, beginning the EVP session unaware that it had already begun.

Leave me alone

Are you a man or a woman? Jerome asked. There was no verbal response, only a chilling bit of laughter.

I have got the chills, Abby said, hugging herself.

Are you okay? Clara asked, stopping the program. She waited for a long moment, still getting no answer from the woman sitting beside her, who was obviously shaken up. Abby?

Abby looked at her, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling onto her cheeks. She felt frightened, intrigued and angry, all at the same time. Im sorry. I just really dont know what to think. What to say.

You dont have to say or think anything. I know this isnt easy, Abby. Im here for you.

I know. Thank you so much for that. Abby reached over and took Claras hand, squeezing it tightly before letting it go. She took several deep breaths, determined to be strong. Lets continue. What else?

Clara studied her for a moment, literally able to see the steely determination enter Abbys eyes. With a short nod, she turned back to the laptop. Loading up the next EVP found. She wasnt looking forward to Abbys reaction to this one, but it had to be done.

This next one was when we were sitting in the dining area talking. We hadnt started an official EVP session yet, but I was recording. She glanced over at Abby. Are you okay to hear this?

Abby nodded. So, did we hear this when we were actually there?

Clara shook her head. No. It only appeared on the recording.

Abby blew out a loud breath. Okay. Lets hear it.

Clara hit play on the program again, and they both sat back to listen.

The sound of someone re-settling themselves on a chair was the first thing heard, then the light tap, tap, tapping of Abbys flashlight against her leg.

So, what do you think of my pub? Abby asked.

I think its great. Beautiful place, Clara responded, a slight squeak of the chair as she adjusted her body in the seat. What did this used to be Its a neat building.

You know, Im not sure-

Mommy? Do they like us?

- probably a bordello. Both Clara and Abby laughed, completely unaware of the childs voice that had interrupted them.

Wait, Abby said, putting a hand on Claras wrist. Play that again.

Clara directed the cursor over the STOP button, then rewound a few seconds.



its a neat building.

You know, Im not sure-

Mommy? Do they like us?…

Clara hit PAUSE, waiting for Abbys reaction. She studied the bar owners profile, looking for any sign of how she was feeling.

Abby chewed on the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, trying to decide just exactly what she felt and thought. The childs voice was so clear in the EVP, almost as though he or she  though it sounded like a little boy  had been standing right next to the recorder, which she realized had been sitting on the table, right next to where her hand had been resting. She shivered.

Is there more?

Clara nodded, clicking the PLAY button.

Is there anyone here with us tonight? Clara asked, finally getting around to actually asking questions.

If there is, Abby added, can you tell us your name?

Alfred

Abby looked at Clara, brow creased in thought. Whos Alfred? Did you get an Alfred in your research?

Clara shook her head. I wondered the same thing. She glanced over at Abby. Want to continue?

Yes. Lets keep going.

Okay. Were almost done with the EVPs. I think theres one or two more to go.

Abby clasped her hands in her lap as they continued.

My name is Clara, and Im sitting here with my friend, Abby. She owns this place, so Im sure youve seen her around a lot before. She isnt here to hurt you, and we arent, either. We just want to better understand why youre still here, and how I may be able to help you. There was a short pause. Are you okay with that?

No

Hes coming

Abby sat back, goosebumps erupting over her arms. She wasnt even sure what it was, but something was making her blood chill.

Clara said nothing, simply stopped the program, as that was the last of the EVPs, and waited for Abby to speak.

Abby was silent for a long moment, then took a deep breath. Im okay, but I am somewhat disturbed. She looked at Clara. There is definitely something there, isnt there?

Clara nodded. Appears to be, yes. I mean, I have felt things there personally, but Im never comfortable with saying that in someones home or business or whatever, until I have the scientific proof to back me up. She indicated the laptop with a wave of her hand. The EVPs are good, yes, but are they totally solid? she shrugged. Depends on who you are, and your definition of a haunting.

But, do you feel its haunted? I trust you, Clara, and I trust youll tell me the truth and wont try and bullshit me either way.

Yeah, I do. I feel there is some definite energy in that pub, and its not all residual. Youve got something there, and I strongly feel it doesnt want you there, or anyone else.

Abby nodded, chewing on her lower lip. I agree. Thats the vibe I get, too. She blew out a breath. Okay, what else you got?

Clara Xd out of the audio program and brought up the video. She pulled up the first of the two visual pieces of evidence, starting with the first Jordan had shown her of the full-bodied apparition in the attic.

Abby watched saucer-eyed, sitting forward in her chair. Her mouth was still open a bit after the scene played out. Clara watched her again for reactions.

Holy shit, Abby finally said, unable to take her eyes off the paused frame. She looked over at Clara. Was that what I think it was? At Claras nod, she turned her attention back to the screen.

Do you want to see it again? Clara asked, fingers ready to deliver.

Abby shook her head. No. Once was enough to give me nightmares.

Theres one more. Do you want to see it, or have you had enough? I mean, with what Ive shown you, you have more than enough proof-

Show me, Abby insisted.

A new-found respect for the pub owner filled Clara as she switched the player to the second video Jordan had put on the computer for her. This is in the main pub area downstairs. You cant see it with the angle of this camera, but the bar is off to the right, out of frame.

Okay, Abby nodded, orienting herself with the area of the room she was looking at.

There were two tables, their chairs slid neatly underneath. It was quiet, no one seen in the room. She gasped and jumped, startled as one of the chairs rocked slightly, almost as though it were being wedged out from underneath the table, then flew backwards, only stopping when it ran into another chair.

Claras living room was silent as the footage came to an end, and the screen went dark. The Medium studied her client for a moment, waiting, not daring to speak. After what seemed like an hour, but in actuality was only a few seconds, Abby glanced over at her.

That was interesting.

Clara nodded. It was.

Where do we go from here?

Clara could hear the steely determination in Abbys voice, so decided to go with it, and follow her lead. Well, I need to get-

We, Abby interrupted. I want to be there, too. I want to be involved and see what needs to be done.

Clara smiled, her gut telling her not to argue. Alright. We need to get in there, and Ill check out the situation from the after shadow. From there Ill either cross the spirits, or Ill make them leave. Either way, theyll be gone.

Abbys smiled was bright and filled with bravery. Lets do it.

Chapter 44

Clara rolled the dough on the kitchen table, adding a bit more flour when needed. Shed been helping her mother all day, as Stephanie was doing a private order for a woman who needed three-dozen specially decorated cookies for her daughters birthday. Though Stephanie put in tons of hours at the bakery, shed never lost her love of baking, and had continued to do projects on the side for a number of clients whod come back time and again for her wonderful creations.

Stephanie was on the phone with Kerri as she held the phone between cheek and shoulder, mixing a bowl of frosting.

Yeah, from what I hear its going well. Stephanie added a bit more almond extract as she listened to her older daughter. Really? Her ex-husband has come back into the picture, huh?

Claras interest was piqued, as she knew they were talking about Abby. She didnt want to full out eavesdrop, but wanted to hear more. She hadnt seen Abby in three days, not since the night theyd looked at the investigative footage at Claras house. The plan was for Clara and Abby to go into the pub after closing in two nights. Abby couldnt afford to close early again. In the three days, theyd spoken briefly on the phone, but it had been all business. She couldnt explain it, but somehow she missed Abbys presence. It was a strange feeling.

Wasnt he a real ass, or something? Stephanie asked, oblivious to her younger daughters interest in the one-sided conversation. I thought so. Well, Abby better be careful not to let that guy back into her life. Sounds like trouble, to me.

Clara stopped rolling, using the excuse of stretching her back as she listened.

Whatever happened with that restraining order she got last year? Pause. Yeah, I thought hed broken it. Didnt he move away? To Claras frustration, Stephanie left her mixing bowl and headed down the basement stairs, hot on the trail of a missing ingredient that would likely be in the pantry Max had built for her down there two years ago.

Clara turned back to her task, probably using a bit more vigor than was necessary. She wanted to know the story, but didnt feel she knew Abby well enough to ask, and didnt want Stephanie or Kerri wondering why she wanted to know, and why she was listening in on other peoples conversations by asking.

Stephanies steps clanked on the wooden stairs as she hurried back up to the kitchen, a small glass bottle of some secret spice in one hand, the phone in the other. She had finished her talk with Kerri, and set the phone on the counter as she headed back to the mixing bowl.

Did you ever meet James, Clara? she asked, tapping in a bit of the sweet-smelling powder.

Clara did a mental happy dance. She could now ask to her hearts content now that her mother had brought it up. No. Shes mentioned him a few times, though I never even knew what his name was. She set the rolling pen aside and began to cut the dough into their cookie cutter shapes. Was that him at your wedding?

Stephanie paused in her mixing as she thought for a moment, then nodded, continuing her labor. That was him. A real prick, according to Kerri.

What happened? All Abby has told me was they moved to Ohio to be closer to his family, then moved back here and bought the Stoney Brook. End of story.

Well, from what Kerri told me over the years, he was a controlling ass. He tried to use that pub to keep tabs on her. When they bought the place, she took to bartending and being a business owner like a duck to water. She scraped the frosting into separate bowls, which would become the different colors used to decorate the cookies. He, of course, didnt like that. Things began to fall apart. Hell, he even tried to get her to sell the place because she was doing so well there.

She said it was the only thing she got out of the divorce, Clara said, placing her newly-cut dough on a cookie sheet.

Stephanie nodded. Thats true. Even that was a fight. Stephanie sucked on the tip of her thumb as some frosting colored the skin white. Mm, thats good. Anyway, James fought her tooth and nail for that, but eventually a judge awarded it to Abby since he already had a job. The pub was her job.

Clara nodded her understanding, taking the cookie sheet and sliding it into the pre-heated oven. So, whats going on now?

Guess hes been coming back around town. Asking about her.

Does Abby know that?

Stephanie shrugged. I dont know. Your sister heard it from an old high school friend they all knew, Anthony somebody.

Anthony Fitzpatrick?

Yeah! Thats him. Stephanie carried the bowls of frosting to the kitchen table, as well as the tiny bottle of food coloring. Clara brought the pan of cookies that had been cooling to the table, and together they began to mix colored frosting, and Stephanie created her masterpieces.

I remember him. Didnt he date Abby for awhile?

Stephanie shrugged. Hell if I know. It was hard enough to keep up with the Days of Our Lives that was you girls lives back then, let alone to remember it all now.

Clara chuckled, tasting the frosting, eyes closing in pleasure.

Good? Stephanie asked expectantly.

Oh, yeah! Very. However, Clara said, holding up a finger for emphasis, Ive had my sugar intake for the week.

Stephanie rolled her eyes, unable to understand her daughters eating habits. Though she respected Claras reasons, she felt life was too short to live off rabbit food alone.

Clara was amused as she watched her mother work her artistic culinary magic. So, James. What does he want with her?

No idea, though Kerris worried. She helped Abby through a lot of that stuff back then.

You know, I had no idea they were such good friends.

Oh, yeah. Ever since tenth grade.

Oh.

Has it gone pretty well? I mean, especially since I know you never wanted to do the ghost stuff again, Stephanie asked, studying her daughter for a moment before turning her attention back to the tube of black frosting she was filling.

Yeah. Its gone great. I think shes pretty disturbed by what the guys of CPS found.

Who wouldnt be? Honestly, I think even I would be disturbed, and youre my daughter! Stephanie turned her focus to the tiny designs she was making on the cookie.

Shes been wonderful. I admit, I wasnt looking forward to doing this, but I dont know, Clara shrugged, stealing a another quick swipe of icing with her finger. Ive enjoyed my time with her. Shes very curious about what I do, and wants to be there when I clear her pub.

Stephanie stopped her art, smiling at her daughter. Really? Oh, honey, thats great! Its about time someone truly respected what you do. She turned back to her design.

Clara watched, but her mind swam back to Abby. They seemed to get along great, that was true. She remembered the many conversations theyd had about the supernatural world, and what Clara did, and what it involved. She couldnt stop the smile from spreading across her lips as she thought back to the day theyd done research on Abbys building. How wonderful it had been, sitting in that coffee shop exchanging notes and bits of information. She was so lost in thought, she didnt notice her mother watching her, a knowing smile on her face.

The Stoney Brook was busy when Clara walked in. The sound of animated conversation filled the space, as well as glasses clinking and drinks being poured. Low music hung in the background, distant pool balls knocking into each other.

Clara looked around, trying to spot Abby, but didnt see her behind the bar. Deciding to get a water, she found an empty stool at the bar and waited until the girl who was tending noticed her.

Clara?

Clara turned to see a completely unexpected face. Shelby!

Her ex smiled and the exchanged a tight, but brief hug. Shelby looked her over, noting the Claras hair, which was longer than shed ever seen it, as well as a much more trim, womanly figure. My god, you look great, she beamed, sitting on the stool next to Claras. When did you get back into town? Are you visiting?

Clara felt like an ass as she tried to think of how best to answer Shelbys questions. Shed been back home for such a long time, yet had never once called Shelby, or tried to see if she was still even in town. She was saved a moment to think when the girl behind the bar showed up, asking for her order and placing a beer in front of Shelby.

Water? Shelby asked, brows drawn. Ive never known you to drink a shot glass-full, let alone to actually order one on purpose.

Clara chuckled, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. Yeah well, some things change. She looked her ex over, noting that Shelby was still a beautiful woman, and amused  and a bit disturbed - to realize just how much she reminded her of Abby. You look great, Shelby. Her water arrived, and Clara took a long swig.

Thanks! Want to join us? Shelby pointed to a table near the back of the pub, two women seeming to be engaged in a deep conversation sitting there.

Clara glanced around the pub, looking one last time for Abby. She saw her coming out of the staircase leading from upstairs, and walking towards the bar. Actually, Id love to catch up with you, but the person I came here to talk to just got here.

Shelby glanced over her shoulder and saw Abby. She smiled and raised her hand in greeting. Hey, Abby. Didnt know you were here.

Abby walked into the horseshoe that was the bar, and over to the two women. Hey, Shelby. She turned, surprised to see Clara sitting next to the long-time patron. Clara!

Shelby watched the interaction between the two women, curious.

Hey, Clara grinned, glad to see the pub owner. Just dropped by to talk about tomorrow night.

Shelbys brows and interest shot up, but she said nothing. When Clara turned to her, she decided it was time to take her leave. Clara, it was great to see you again. She stood, giving her ex another tight hug, then holding her by the shoulders. I really do want to catch up, okay?

Clara felt a little awkward, knowing Abby was watching her and Shelbys every interaction. She nodded. Yeah. I would, too.

See you, Abby, Shelby said before grabbing her beer and weaving her way through the tables and patrons to her own party, Abby watching her go before turning back to Clara.

You know her?

Clara nodded. She was my girlfriend in college.

Really? Abby was surprised, resting her folded arms on the polished bar. Shelbys been coming here for a long time, now. I never even knew she was gay.

Clara chuckled. Cant attest for now, but she sure was then.

For some reason that made Abby uncomfortable, and she couldnt help but glance over at the table Shelby sat at with two friends. One of the women she had seen with her before many times. So, is that a girlfriend, maybe? Abby cleared her thoughts and returned her attention back to her friend, glad to see her.

So, this is a nice surprise. What can I get ya?

Got my water, Clara said, raising her bottle.

Abby was amused. Dont you ever drink anything with a little more kick to it then that?

Orange juice. Even grape juice from time to time, Clara said, twilight eyes twinkling.

Abby played along. Oh my! Can your poor body handle so much acid? she asked, hand to her heart.

It does. Amazing, isnt it?

Oh, yes. Definitely! They broke into laughter. Its good to see you. She reached out and squeezed Claras arm enthusiastically. What brings you out?

Well, just wanted to say howdy, and I wanted to make sure everything was still a go for tomorrow night. And I really missed you.

Howdy right back atcha, and yes. We are very much still a go for tomorrow night. You said you can be here at two, right?

Yes, maam. Two a.m. it is.

Wonderful. Abby said her goodbyes to a few patrons that were leaving, then turned her attention back to Clara. Can I ask you something?

Of course.

Do you do psychic stuff, too?

As in, your future is



As in, your ex-husband wants



Clara nodded in slow understanding. I see. I can probably help you with that.

Come upstairs with me.

The walk to the second floor was a quiet one, other than Abbys greetings to her pool-playing patrons, making sure everyone was comfortable and had everything they needed. Eventually they made it to Abbys office, the pub owner closing the door behind them.

Have a seat, she offered, taking one behind the large desk.

Clara sat on the old, rickety chair, waiting for whatever Abby had to say. She studied her new friend, and could feel Abbys energy, which was coming off her in waves of heat. Something was very wrong. As the silence continued, Clara got more concerned. Reaching across the desk, she took one of Abbys hands lightly in hers, offering friendly comfort.

Abby?

Abby took a deep breath, then began to speak. Jimmy is back in town, she began, her thumb absently running along the smooth skin of Claras hand. The touch sent a slight shiver through the Medium. I havent seen him yet, and he hasnt tried to contact me, but I know its a matter of time.

When there was nothing more forthcoming, Clara urged her on with questions. And this is a bad thing? That hes back in town?

Abby nodded. Potentially. If I know him as well as I think I do, yes. After we split, he moved back to Ohio. I havent seen him since.

The fear in Abbys green eyes disturbed Clara greatly. Can you tell me more?

Like what? Abby released Claras hand with a gentle squeeze, then hugged herself as she sat back in her chair.

Clara felt the loss immediately, but ignored it. What happened in your marriage, Abby? What really happened? She didnt want to tell her about the conversation shed had with Stephanie just the day before, as she didnt want to break Kerris confidences, or cause problems between the two friends. She decided playing dumb was the best route.

Abby blew out a breath, which disturbed her bangs. What didnt happen, is the question. She laughed, a bit self-conscious. I hate talking about this, and really havent told anyone the full truth. She looked into Claras eyes, letting her know she meant to reveal her secrets to her. This is hard.

If youre not comfortable with this, Abby, I can just try and connect and see what I come up with. It may mean nothing to me, but may mean the world to you.

Abby smiled, genuine and beautiful. I really appreciate the offer, Clara, but I want to talk. I feel I can trust you, and its probably best for me to finally just talk it out, anyway.

Okay. Clara settled in, waiting to hear the worst.

Okay, here we go. I met Jimmy when I was pretty young, and we got married far too young. The problem was, I knew when we were dating things werent cool.

Clara listened  trying to keep her expression clear  to a story of mental and verbal abuse, and even a time or two where the physical realm was breeched. She heard tales of Jimmy calling Abby names, and bringing her self-esteem down to the point of non-existence. A brutal time in Abbys life, and one that she was still very damaged from.

You know, Abby said softly, near tears, the day your parents got married I saw you, and really wanted to talk to you. I had planned to at the reception, but he insisted we dont go. Hell, she laughed ruefully, getting him to even go to the wedding was a job.

Oh, Abby. It took everything in her power to stay seated and not hurry around the desk and take Abby into her arms. She could feel that lost, very lonely young bride in the friend sitting across from her. Im so sorry.

Abby glanced at Clara, seeing the genuine caring in her face, and it finally did her in. She felt the first of many tears flow out of her eyes. Shed kept the tears locked away for such a long time, she felt ashamed to let them out now. It was my cross to bear, I guess.

Clara gave into her need and did just that: she hurried around the desk and knelt in front of her friend, Abby immediately falling into the hug. They stayed that way for a long time, neither moving to break the embrace. Abby rested her head on Claras shoulder, feeling so safe and warm.

I was very stupid, she said softly. I stayed for far too long.

You know, Clara said, rubbing small circles over Abbys upper back. My grandmother tells me that everything in this life is planned for a purpose. One things leads into the next.

Abby pulled away just enough to be able to look into Claras face. Her eyes were a vibrant green from her upset. What do you mean? she sniffled.

Well, Clara said, reaching over to the desk and grabbing two tissues from the box there. She handed one to Abby, and used the other to gently wipe away the tear streaks. Youve given him enough of these, she whispered, watching as Abby closed her eyes so Clara could wipe them dry.

Abby smiled with a small nod. I have. She quickly blew her nose then looked back to Clara for answers.

First of all, Clara said, feeling an intense need to kiss away any remaining tears that slipped out. She banished the thought as quickly as it had entered her mind. what can you tell me about you now? How are you different than from when you were with Jimmy?

Abby blew out a watery laugh. I dont take any shit from anyone anymore.

Clara smiled with a nod. Okay. What else?

Im a lot stronger than I was before. Im not afraid to do it on my own.

Is that something you could have ever done with him? Or, if you hadnt married Jimmy, would you have grown into such a strong woman?

Abby thought for a long minute, then finally shook her head. No.

There you go, see? She rested her hands on Abbys knees, squeezing slightly. It was all for a reason. Dont regret the bad in life, because ultimately it leads to the good.

Abby looked at Clara for a long moment, a soft smile on her lips. She shook her head in wonder. You sure did get wise, Clara.

Clara felt warmth spread through her at the compliment, and also the way Abby was looking at her. It was as though she felt nothing but respect and admiration for her, and it felt damn good. Thank you. She smiled, feeling the air around them becoming heavy. Feeling uncomfortable with what she was feeling, Clara got to her feet and made her way back around the desk to her chair.

Abby took that moment to get herself together, trying to swallow down her emotions. The caring in Claras touch and warmth in her eyes had made Abby want to just flat out breakdown, as long as Clara held onto her. That wasnt an option, so she got herself together, blowing her nose one last time and then faced her friend.

Okay, she blew out. What do you see in your crystal ball, oh psychic one?

Let me see. Clara closed her eyes for a moment, opening her mind and reaching out mentally, trying to taste the energy around her and get an image from it. A picture began to form inside her head. Im getting something, hold on



When Clara used the psychic side of her talents, as opposed to the Mediumship, It was always a strange feeling when something was coming. It felt like a strange pressure was building in her head, almost as though something were trying to push the information in front of her minds eye. It was a literal pressure that eased into either an image, word, or feeling.

Slowly an image began to bleed in, the feel of a stuffy, dark space all around her. Abby, do you have a basement in your house?

Yes.

Whats in the box with the Barbie doll on it?

Abby stared at her, stunned. How did you know about that?

Im seeing it. Its near

 Clara concentrated a bit, trying to see further into the vision of Abbys basement. 

its near the table. Its a dark table, cant tell if its cherry or painted, but its dark.

Its mahogany. My grandmother gave me that table.

Okay. Its by that. A big, Clara held her hands up to the size of the box she was seeing, her gaze locked onto the picture in her mind. box is next to it.

Yeah, I know exactly what youre talking about. The Barbie box, its pink and yellow? At Claras nod she continued. Its next to the box my microwave came in. I had to buy a new one last year.

Why do I keep seeing this Barbie box? Whats in it, Abby? Why do I feel so drawn to this box? Clara opened her eyes and looked at Abby, waiting.

Abby was looking down at her desk, fingers playing with a pencil, trying to keep her emotions under control.

Abby? Clara said softly. Why does he want this box? She felt in her gut that was exactly why James had come back into town, for whatever was in it.

A single tear slipped from Abbys closed eyes and rolled gracefully down her cheek. She wiped it away, but it was replaced by another one. Our daughters pictures and some of her clothing is in that box, she finally said, looking up at Clara with very sad eyes.

Clara was stunned. I didnt know you had a daughter.

She died when we were in Ohio. That was one of the reasons why I wanted to come back. I needed to be close to my family after that.

Oh, jeez. Clara felt her shoulders slump as the news hit her between the eyes. Once again she found herself kneeling in front of her friend.

God, Im sorry, Abby laughed nervously, trying to clear up her tears. Im sorry to unload on this on you, Clara. You didnt ask for this.

Hey, no. Dont worry. Im here, and I dont mind. Okay? She waited until Abby met her gaze. Lets get this figure out.

Abby nodded, once again taking the tissue offered her, and wiping her face and eyes. Okay.

Is there a reason why he would want that stuff? I mean, other than the fact that she was his daughter, that is. But, enough of a reason to bring him back into town?

Abby nodded. If anything, hell do it to hurt me. By taking the last bit of Alison from me, it would destroy me and he knows it.

Clara sat back on her haunches. Would he be that vindictive? After all this time?

Yeah. Thats how he is. He fought the divorce tooth and nail. Abby blew out a loud, cleansing breath. For whatever reason, I guess something crawled up into a deep, dark place and so hes back.

Well, before I get you upset, here  though I think its too late for that  lets reason this out. You know him better than I do. Do you think Jimmy will even contact you? Maybe hes here to see a friend or some other reason.

Abby shook her head. No. The minute you mentioned Alisons box, I knew you had hit the nail on the head.

Clara was about to respond when there was a soft knocking on the door.

Come in, Abby called out. The door opened and one of her employees peeked her head inside.

Abby, you have a visitor.

From the all-too serious look on the girls face, Abbys stomach fell. She turned and looked at Clara. Hes here.

The three walked down to the first floor in silence, Clara bringing up the rear after Abby. She was keeping her focus on her friend, ready to be there for her in a heartbeat.

The noise level in the pub had risen as the lunch hour approached, and workers from local businesses poured in for business meetings, or simply to enjoy the pubs famous cheeseburgers during their lunch break.

Clara scanned the place, looking for the man shed seen at the wedding with Abby so many years back. He wasnt hard to miss as he sat on one of the few empty stools at the bar, his voice loud as he chatted with one of the pubs workers.

Abby steeled her resolve and walked up to her ex-husband. Hi, Jimmy, she said, her voice strong.

The man sitting at the bar, dark hair slicked back from his face, turned to look at her. Clara recognized him as the man shed seen sitting next to Abby in the pew of the church.

Well, hello, he said, a charming smile on his handsome face. Clara thought he looked like a snake sizing up his prey, dark eyes trailing over Abbys body and face.

What can I do for you, Jimmy? Abby asked, crossing her arms over her chest, no nonsense, even though Clara could sense she was very afraid of the man.

Not much, except have dinner with me. I want to talk to you about something.

Abby shook her head. No. Im not comfortable with that and you know it.

Clara stood back watching, able to feel the level of tension rising with every tick of the clock. She looked to Jimmy, curious as to what his response would be.

He stood from his stool, looking around to see who was paying attention to their conversation, not even giving Clara a second glance. Abby, dont be dramatic. What do you think Im going to do? he said, voice lowered.

Abby took a small step back, inadvertently showing her fear of him as he advanced. It doesnt matter. We have nothing to talk about anymore. Please leave.

Jimmy stared her down for a moment, making it clear he was trying to show his dominance. To Abbys credit, she didnt finch or cower, but did begin to tremble slightly.

We need to talk, he said, voice still quiet, almost calm. Ill come by your place later.

Please dont, Jimmy. We have nothing to talk about, Abby said again, her fear beginning to seep into her voice somewhat.

After a tense moment, Jimmy finished the drink that had been placed on the bar before him and left, not another word or glance spared at Abby. The pub-owner waited until hed left the establishment, then breathed out a sigh of relief.

Clara looked at her. Are you okay?

Abby nodded, rubbing her hands over her arms. Im fine. Glad hes gone. She looked at Clara. Im sorry you had to see that.

Clara shook her head. No need to apologize, Abby. You didnt invite him in here. I thought you handled it well.

Abby laughed ruefully. I felt like a coward. God, she blew out a breath, running her hand through her hair. Why does he make me so crazy?

Because you have a lot of history with him, and from the sounds of it, a lot of it unpleasant and very negative. That doesnt just go away because a judge signs a paper and calls you divorced. She studied her friend for a moment, squeezing a shoulder. Do you need anything? A drink? A valium?

Abby broke into relieved laughter and shook her head. No. No valium, and no drink. What I need is for him to forget where I live and work.

Well, good luck with that one, but if you find a way and need help, let me know and Ill be here.

Abby smiled, grateful to have Clara there. Well, I better get back to things, I guess. She uncrossed her arms and took a step towards Clara. Thank you so much for everything, Clara. Truly, it means the world to me.

Clara accepted the hug she was offered, and nearly melted into it. As she felt Abbys arms tighten around her, their bodies coming into contact, she realized she finally knew what heaven felt like. She closed her eyes and inhaled all that was Abby, knowing the blondes wonderful floral scent would be on her clothes all day.

After a moment Abby stepped back and gave her a quick, but genuine smile, then headed back towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor.

Chapter 45

Abby wasnt sure exactly what Clara was doing, but stood back, studying her every move. The Medium had told her she wanted to get a feel for things, whatever that meant, and for the past ten minutes had been walking around the second floor of the pub, eyes closed, and walking around, almost as if in a daze. Her movements were slow and measured, almost as though she were waiting for something to step out of a wall in front of her.

Clara stopped suddenly, hands out in front of her, then a soft gasp escaped her lips.

Clara could feel a presence close to her as she wandered through the mirror image of the pub in the after shadow. She scanned her surroundings, seeing the inanimate shapes and shadows of the pool tables and scattered chairs. She could make out the juke box, now silent and dark. Abbys shape loomed large and black, unwelcome in this strange, spirit world.

She turned towards the feel of the presence, only to stop suddenly, hands out in front of her in a natural instinct of defense. Standing not a foot away was a figure, its dark eyes focused on her. She gasped in her surprise, heart pounding out of her chest. She could feel a negative energy flowing from the figure, even though she couldnt clearly see his face. All she knew was it was a he, and he didnt want her there. She took a slight step back, stopping when in the blink of an eye the figure was gone, yet again startling her.

From what seemed like a far distance, she heard her name.

Abby started as Clara jumped, whirling around when the pub owner placed a tentative hand on her arm. They both cried out in surprised, Abbys heart racing.

Whoa, Clara said, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. She looked around, almost as though seeing her surroundings for the first time. Sorry.

Its okay. Are you okay? You looked like you

well, Abby grinned sheepishly. Like you saw a ghost.

Clara chuckled. I did. She looked around, now seeing the room as Abby saw it: Stoney Brook Pub. I saw someone.

In the after shield? Abby asked, trying to remember what Clara had called that other world.

After shadow, Clara corrected. Yeah. He was quick, too. She was trying to feel his energy, but couldnt. It was almost as though he had just transported himself to another planet or something. He was quick. Very quick. I dont think Ive seen anything like that before. I cant even feel him now, which is unusual. Typically even once a spirit has left the room I can still feel their lingering energy. She shook her head as she studied one of the pool tables. Not with this guy.

Who is it, do you think?

Clara shook her head. No idea yet.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when they heard something fall in the office. With a quick glance at each other, both women hurried towards the small room, led by Clara.

The room lit up with the flick of a switch, everything seemingly in perfect order to Claras eyes. Abby squeezed past her into the office, headed straight to one of the filing cabinets.

How the hell did this happen? she asked, bending down to pick something up. When she stood and turned to Clara, she held the handle to one of the drawers in her hand. Clara took the metal object from her, studying it. It was almost as though one of the screws that had been holding the handle onto the drawer had been wrenched loose, the actual hole for the screw bent slightly out of shape. The second screw was nowhere to be found.

Thats very strange, I must say, Clara said, realizing the immense understatement of her comment. She looked at the drawer itself, then to Abby. Someones trying to get our attention.

Or make us go away.

No, Clara said. Something wants our attention.

Is it a bad something?

Not sure.

Clara set the handle on top of the filing cabinet and turned her attention to the rest of the room. She reached out energy feelers, trying to connect with anything that was near. Almost like the sonar that a bat sends out, Clara waited for her energy to bounce off that of another. It didnt take long.

Abby watched, part fascinated, part frightened, as Clara made a beeline for the area behind the desk. The pub owner stood back, hugging herself as she watched, fighting against the intense need to leave.

Clara could feel the pull of the energy, leading her to the corner. She stopped at the side of the desk, gently pushing the chair aside. She felt almost as though a child were hunkered down in the corner, hiding. She had no idea where Abby was, but didnt want to chance frightening the spirit, Clara held a hand up.

Dont move, Abby. Just stay back.

Abby said nothing, but moved further away from the desk, careful in her movements.

Clara became only aware of what was before her. She reached out a hand, able to feel the energy shift, the corner cold. Letting out a soft breath, she closed her eyes and entered the after shadow. After a moments concentration, she saw what she was looking for.

Huddled in the corner was a small figure. His face was pale, and very difficult to discern his features. All she could tell was he had dark hair, and it was a bit shaggy, hanging in his eyes. His shoulders were narrow, and Clara guessed he was no older than six, seven at most.

Hey, Clara said, using the power of her thoughts to communicate with him. He looked up at her, blinking a few strands of hair out of deep-set eyes. How can I help you?

Mamma? he said, the word almost hopeful.

Clara shook her head. No, sweetie. Im sorry, Im not your mom, but I can help you. Want my help? Are you the one who was trying to get my attention a few minutes ago?

The boy nodded, then his head drooped again, face completely hidden by his arms, which were folded atop his bent knees.

Do you want my help? Is that why you made the big noise?

Again, the boy nodded, though didnt look up at her again.

Clara got to her feet and walked over to Abby. Theres a little boy over there. Hes the one who tried to get our attention. She nodded towards the corner where the child still sat.

Abby swallowed a bit nervously, but nodded her understanding.

Im going to cross him. Do you want to help me?

Yeah. Whatever you need.

Okay. Come with me, Clara said, holding out her hand for Abby to take, which she did. Still clutching her hand, Clara led Abby over towards the desk, close to the boy. She faced Abby and met her gaze. Give me your other hand. Both hands clasped, Clara gave her friend a gentle smile. Its okay. Dont be afraid. What were about to do is beautiful, not scary. Okay?

Abby nodded, though she didnt feel near the confidence that was in the nod. Okay. Just tell me what you need me to do.

Right now I just need you to concentrate. I want you to try and clear your head completely. No thoughts, no emotions. Just nothingness.

Abby nodded. Okay. I can do that.

Good. Clara squeezed Abbys hands in a quick show of understanding, then closed her eyes.

All color once again began to dissolve as Clara re-entered the after shadow. Immediately she saw the little boy, exactly where shed left him, though now he was looking up at her, then at Abbys shadowy form, then back to Clara.

Did you find my mamma? he asked, slowly rising to his feet.

No, sweetie, Clara said, holding out her hand to him. But Im going to help you now.

Slowly, ever watchful, the little boy stood from his hiding place and walked over to Clara. It was only then that Clara saw  for a split second moment  a huge gash in the side of the boys head. Blood had spurted out, staining his ear, down the side of his neck, and had matted his hair.

Clara gasped, startled for a moment. She blinked, and the wound was gone, leaving only a sweet-faced boy looking expectantly at her.

Abby felt Clara jerk slightly. She opened her eyes to see if she was okay. Though Claras eyes remained closed, her face had screwed up into a look of shock and disgust then once again became expressionless.

Are you okay? she whispered. It was only after she received Claras nod that she once again closed her own eyes, returning to her concentration.

Clara took his hand in her own, relieved when she saw the hallway appear out of the darkness. At the other end of the hall a door opened, the silhouette of her grandmother breaking through the blinding light that gushed in from the other side.

Clara, Rebecca said, her voice soft. Be careful this time. Be very careful.

Clara nodded and led the little boy toward Rebecca. Another figure stepped into the hallway from the other side, a small figure, which looked female. The figure stepped around Rebecca, staring down the hall, her features blocked by the bright light behind her.

Douglas! the figure screamed, then began to run towards Clara and the little boy.

Mamma! he cried, puling free of Clara and running towards the woman who fell to her knees, collecting the child in her arms.

Clara stood back and watched the touching scene, Rebecca moved to stand next to her, both silent for a moment. The woman stood, picking the boy up and holding him close.

Beautiful, Clara said, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Yes. Be careful though, Clara, Rebecca warned. There are more in this place.

Abby felt a rush of cold air wash over and through her, almost to the point of causing her to release Claras hands. Clara seemed to sense that, as she tightened her grip, even as her eyes remained closed. Abbys eyes had opened when shed felt the cold, and studied Clara. The mediums concentration was complete, her focus palpable as her brows drew. Abby followed the lines of Claras face with her gaze, taking in her features, the shape of her mouth and way her dark brows arched. She hadnt really noticed before just what a beautiful woman Clara really was. Shed always found her attractive, maybe even cute, but hadnt thought about it beyond that.

Abby was startled out of her observations when twilight eyes were suddenly looking into her own gaze. Abby cleared her throat, feeling somewhat stupid at being caught staring.

So involved in what was happening, Clara didnt realize shed been the center of such intense scrutiny. She was still half in and half out of the after shadow, her senses slowly coming back to her as she realized she was staring at Abby.

Hey, she said, voice low, serene.

Hi. How did it go?

It went well. He crossed. Douglas was his name. Without thinking, she gently rubbed her thumbs over Abbys soft skin. I think hes been rejoined with his mother, which was amazing. Her grin was contagious as Abby returned it.

Clara, thats wonderful! Abby tugged on Claras hands, bringing them together in a tight hug.

Clara allowed herself to dissolve into the embrace, Abbys warmth washing through her. She could sleep forever in that embrace. Deciding on propriety, she disengaged, giving Abby a quick smile. Were not done, yet. Come on. Lets get this place cleaned out.

Chapter 46

Clara lay in bed, hands tucked behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. She was on a high, completely satisfied and content. It had been a long night at the Stoney Brook, but so worth it.

She and Abby had worked to clear out the pub for more than four hours, and Clara was mentally and emotionally exhausted. But, oh she was happy! She had been able to clear the place, and had crossed three spirits. She hadnt seen the strange, elusive spirit that shed first seen, and figured hed left when he saw that he would be next.

Her mind fast forwarded to the end of the night when Clara had crossed the final spirit in the Stoney Brook. Abby had joined her in her excitement of being done, and feeling as though theyd truly accomplished something. Abby was also excited at the prospect of having her pub back. They had hugged.

A small thrill spread throughout her body, leaving small goosebumps on her arms. There was something about a hug from Abby that she couldnt quite put her finger on. Something that felt so

right. Something about Abby had called to Clara since the day shed met her as a young teenaged girl. The day shed been hit in the head by the soccer ball; an even she wouldnt forget about for a couple reasons.

Clara smiled, tracing her fingers over the spot where shed been hit, and ultimately knocked out. She also thought back to when shed first seen what had seemed at the time to be an indifferent Abigail Jensen. Shed been so beautiful. She still was. She damn near took Claras breath away every time she saw her. Not good. Not good at all. Dangerous, in fact. Clara knew this would result likely only in heartbreak for her, if she didnt get her thoughts and feelings under control.

Clara turned onto her side, hoping sleep would soon come when she was startled by the sound of the doorbell. Sitting up in bed, she waited, seeing if it would ring again. It did. Grabbing her cell phone, Clara padded to the front room, pushing the curtains aside, relieved at first to see Abbys car, then concerned.

She quickly unlocked the front door, Abby standing on the other side.

Hey. Are you okay? Clara asked, looking around to see if anyone else was around. She had a bad feeling.

Im so sorry to come here so late. I can leave. Im sure I woke you up-

Get in here, Clara interrupted, tugging on Abbys wrist until the stepped inside the house. Clara closed and locked the door, turning to Abby for an explanation.

When I was driving home from the Stoney Brook, I saw Jimmys car in my neighborhood. I felt uneasy, so I went to an all-night diner, hoping to kill some time so hed leave. He was still there, so I came here. I mean, I can go to Kerris place, Im so sorry I woke you up. Its just that I know he doesnt know you or where you live, so



Hey, its okay. Clara gave the flustered woman a quick hug, then led her further into the house to the kitchen. What can I get you? Coffee? Water? Juice?

Abby took a seat at the table. Actually, do you have anything stronger? Abby ran a hand through her hair, looking tired and somewhat haggard. Im usually not a drinker, but I need one now.

Sure. Let me see what Ive got.

Within ten minutes, both women were seated on the couch, a glass of vodka and orange juice in hand. Abby hadnt said much as she stared straight ahead, sipping from her drink. Clara remained quiet, waiting for Abby to speak, as he sensed she needed to. She was obviously very bothered by the sudden appearance of her ex-husband in her life again.

Im really grateful for your kindness, Abby said at length, setting her drink down on the coffee table and turning on the couch to face her new friend more.

Absolutely. Youre welcome here any time, Abby. Day or night.

Thank you. Im sure Im overreacting, but I dont know. When I saw his car, I just kind of freaked out a little. I dont trust him.

And it sounds like youve got good reason not to. When I met him the other day, I didnt like him immediately. I really felt a kind of sliminess to him.

Abby nodded, picking up her drink again. She took a sip, wincing as the vodka burned on the way down. Youre not the first person to say that. Hell, my own mother didnt like him. She smiled a bit at that, the alcohol beginning to loosen her emotions a bit. She thought for a moment. Come to think of it, I dont think anyone did.

Why did you marry him? Clara asked, sipping her own drink. She knew the vodka would hit her hard, as she hadnt had alcohol in many years.

Because he was cute, to be honest. God, how bad is that? Abby finished her drink and raised her glass, silently asking if she could have another.

Help yourself.

Within a few moments she sat back down, her glass filled with a fresh drink. He was cute, he was charming, and he won me over. She giggled. I was sostupid, Clara. I mean really stupid.

We all do stupid things, Abby. Youve got to know that. Clara was feeling her own senses beginning to numb, the vodka making steady progress through her system.

They sat in silence for a long moment, a clock down the hall ticking away the seconds. Finally Abby glanced over at her, a shy, somewhat mischievous look in her eyes.

You know, I always wanted to know you better when we were younger. I wanted to talk to you. I was actually bummed when you went to another high school. I was a senior, and it was my only chance to really talk to you. To really get to know you.

Clara was surprised to hear it, and leaned forward in her seat a bit. Really? Are you serious?

Yes, maam. I am serious, Abby said with somewhat buzzed conviction. I always thought you were fascinating!

Claras grin was wide, her eyes bright from both her drink, and the new information shed just heard. Why? What was so interesting about me?

I dont know. Abby studied Clara for a moment, her head tilted slightly to the side in contemplation. I guess it was just the way you looked at life. And that day at Dairy Queen when you told me my grandma would be okay, somehow it changed me. I became intrigued by you.

Clara burst into laughter. Do you mean to tell me that you didnt see me as the freak Karri did?

Abby shook her head vigorously. Never.

I thought you were gorgeous. Clara regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth. Her eyes got wide as she met Abbys surprised gaze, then quickly turned to her drink, taking a healthy gulp, the punishing burn sliding down her throat.

Really? Abby asked after a moment, a slow grin spreading across her face.

Clara could only nod, setting her near-empty glass aside. She finally found the courage to meet Abbys gaze. Yep.

Thank you. Thats really cool to hear. But, I guess everyone is gorgeous at sixteen, huh? Young, in my prime. She snorted bitterly. Now



Youre still gorgeous, Abby. Nothings changed there.

Abbys smile was so pure, so sweet, it melted Claras heart. You are so sweet, Clara. I have to admit, after living with Jimmy for so long, I guess I just dont see it anymore. It makes me so angry because before, when I used to look in the mirror, I saw a woman who was maybe not a super model  too short to be one of those  but was pretty enough. Now, she sighed heavily. Now I see a woman in her thirties who has seen better days.

Clara could only stare, looking at the beautiful woman who sat just a few feet away, stunned to hear such defeat in her voice. Oh, Abby. That is so not true. Dont you ever look in the mirror?

Abby chuckled, shaking her head. No more than I have to, Clara. Im afraid my self-confidence isnt what it used to be.

That breaks my heart, Abby. It breaks my heart bad. The alcohol dumbed her sensed enough to allow herself to reach over and place a hand on her friends leg. Youre beautiful, hot as hell even, and shouldnt hide away from that. Jimmy isnt worth doing that to you. Hes an asshole of the lowest order, and never deserved you in the first place.

Abby was surprised by Claras impassioned speech, able to feel the heat of Claras palm through the denim of her jeans. She looked into those twilight eyes and saw just how serious Clara really was.

You are intelligent, kind, sweet, and a wonderful woman who owns her own business  a successful business, I might add  who should be proud of who shes become. Youre loved and respected within your community. I mean, hell, your customers absolutely adore you!

Abby listened, feeling emotions rise within her. It had been far too long since shed heard anyone talk to her like Clara was at that moment. She was building her up, making Abby feel better than she had in a long time. Overwhelmed, she stood, pulling Clara to her feet as well.

Clara went into the hug, surprised by the move, but then quickly fell into it, wrapping her arms around Abbys back as Abbys wrapped around her neck, holding her close. They stood in silence for nearly ten minutes, each just absorbing the warmth of the other. Clara could feel her heart pounding in her chest, nervous energy speeding through her body. But, on the other side of that token, she felt more at ease and comforted than she ever had in her life. The feel of Abbys arms, the feel of her body, the feel of her head resting on Claras shoulder, was more wonderful than anything Clara had ever experienced before.

Abby, for her part was lost in a sensation of absolute comfort. She could hear Claras heart beating, and it put her at ease, somehow. She felt like in that moment, with Clara near to her, she could do anything. How was it that Clara could make her feel like everything would be okay? Make her believe that she was beautiful. Was worth something to someone else. The feeling was intoxicating.

It had been three days since Abby had shown up on Claras doorstep in the middle of the night, and the two women had shared some truths. Abby had spent the night, sleeping in the guest room, and had been gone by the time Clara woke up the next morning. At first, she had been afraid that maybe shed taken it too far, the things shed admitted to Abby, and had been hesitant to contact her. Abby had contacted her, instead. They had dinner the following night, and nothing theyd spoken about at Claras house had come up. Other than some of Abbys fears of Jimmy, that is.

Now, three days later, Clara walked into the Stoney Brook. Her plan was to surprise Abby and take her to lunch. She spotted the pub owner immediately, standing behind the bar. She was leaning on the polished mahogany, a smile on her face and laughter in the air. When Clara saw who she was talking to, a stab of jealousy shot through her.

Jordan Crossland, head investigator of the CPS, was sitting at the bar, doing his best to put the moves on Abby. Even from across the room Clara could see he was flirting with his former client.

Instant irritation spread like wildfire, and Clara decided it wasnt wise for her to approach the two just yet. She didnt want to cause any problems, or seem like she was overstepping bounds she had no right to even toe. Instead, she was grateful to see Shelby and the same two women sitting at a corner table. One of the women had noticed Clara, and had gotten Shelbys attention. The blonde waved Clara over.

Hey! Shelby jumped out of her chair and gave Clara a tight hug, which Clara happily returned. Come sit with us.

Abby glanced past Jordans shoulder, following Claras progression across the bar to Shelbys table. She remembered the two women had once been in a relationship, and felt a strange surge of discomfort as the two women embraced.

What? she said, her voice a bit more harsh than it should have been. She had missed what Jordan had said to her, and forced her attention back to him.

I said, we need to get some dinner some night, he said, flashing a charming smile her way.

Clara glanced over at the bar, watching as Jordan reached over and touched Abbys hand. It was all she could do to not growl. She hadnt cared much for Jordan Crossland the night of the investigation, and she was even less fond now.

Clara? Are you okay? Shelby asked, following her exs line of sight to the beautiful pub owner. Her bros raised in recognition of the longing on Claras face, as well as obvious jealousy. Oh boy.

huh? Clara asked, oblivious to Shelbys realizations. Sorry. Yeah, Im fine. She turned and faced the three woman at the table, deciding to forget about Abby, and be social.

Abby watched as Clara spoke to the three women, her movements animated and excited. She often turned to speak to Shelby, at one point the former lovers leaning in close, Shelby bursting into laughter at something Clara said.

You okay, boss? asked one of Abbys employees who was tending bar with the pub owner.

Abby nodded, turning away from Claras side of the bar. Im fine. She smiled at the girl, then went to help a customer who had just sat down. Jordan had left a few minutes before, and she was glad. She hadnt been thrilled to sit and talk to him as it was, let alone when she was feeling less than friendly.

After helping a line of customers that had come in for after work drinks, she glanced over to where Clara had been sitting. All four women were standing, and Clara and Shelby were hugging, then Shelby placed a quick kiss to Claras lips. Abby looked away, her blood heating. Within moments, Clara was standing at the bar, Shelby and her friends had left the bar, Shelby raising a hand of greeting to Abby.

Clara took a deep breath, trying to get the vision of Jordan flirting with Abby out of her head. She rested her elbows on the bar, waiting for Abby to notice her.

Hey, Abby said, forcing a smile onto her face and in her voice. She was unsettled by the feelings that were stirred up when she saw Clara with Shelby.

Hey, yourself. I had intended to come in to take you to lunch, but saw you were busy with Jordan, so, Clara glanced at the clock on the wall, guess we missed the lunch hour.

Abby was surprised by the bit of, what sounded like bitterness, in her voice. She felt her own hackles raised at not only the tone, but the fact that maybe if Clara had said something to her, rather than spent her time laughing and talking with Shelby, they could have gone out.

She put a sweet smile on her lips. Well, I guess losing yourself talking to friends didnt help either, did it?

Clara looked at her for a moment, surprised by both the words, as well as the fact that Abby seemed bothered that Clara had been sitting with the women. Or was that just the hope of her imagination? Either way, she didnt want the day to turn bad. Shed come to be nice, not fight.

Guess it was just a missed opportunity, huh? She smiled, as genuine as she could, to try and take the sting out of the situation. Not meant to be.

Abby chuckled, shaking her head at her own silliness. Yeah. Not meant to be. Thats too bad, because I would have loved to go with you. She leaned on the bar. How about dinner instead?

Claras grin was blinding. Yes! Absolutely.

Excellent! Okay. Im actually glad you came because I have something I want to ask you, too.

Oh?

Yep, but thatll wait until dinner. I want to be able to talk to you about it. Abby glanced over at a large group of patrons that had just entered the pub, laughing and talking and headed straight for the bar.

Guess I should let you get to it. How about I pick you up at your place at around six-thirty?

Perfect, Abby nodded her agreement, already making her way towards the new arrivals. See you then!

Chapter 47

Clara glanced down once more at her list, making sure shed gotten everything on it.

Crap. Bagels.

She crumbled the piece of notebook paper and shoved it into her pocket on her way to the bakery area of the grocery store. She pushed her half-filled grocery cart down the aisle, the florescent lights above shining on the highly-polished tile at her feet. She smiled at a young mom and her child as she passed them, then turned out of the aisle and into the main drag that ran along the dairy and meat counters.

She turned down the bread aisle when she stopped. Halfway down the aisle she saw an elderly woman deciding on a loaf of bread for herself. Standing not far from the womans near-empty cart was an elderly man dressed in golfing pants and shoes, his silver hair pushed back away from his heavily-lined face. He looked at Clara, smiled, then vanished before her eyes.

Clara stood rooted to the spot, gaze still frozen to where the man had stood not two seconds before. She wanted to turn and walk away, but knew she couldnt.

Bagels, she muttered to herself. I need bagels, then I can leave.

Heading down the aisle, she saw the bagels, which were just beyond the womans cart. She hurried past the woman, turning to look at the array of differing brands and flavors. She was about to grab a package of cinnamon raisin bagels when she felt a presence behind her.

Raymond

Tell her I love her

Clara could hear the voice in her head, whispery and kind. She ignored it, tossing the package of bagels into her cart and ready to hurry out of the aisle.

Please tell her

Raymond

Clara stopped, eyes squeezing shut for a moment, as she wrestled with her indecision. She didnt want to get involved, but yet her conscience wouldnt allow her to walk away.

Turning back towards the older woman, she took a deep breath and backed her cart up until she was next to the woman. Clearing her throat, she spoke. Hi, my name is Clara, and I have a really strange message for you.

The woman looked up at Clara, her blue eyes watery and dull. Excuse me?

I know it sounds strange, but I have a message for you.

From who? Do I know you, dear?

No, maam, you dont. And its from Raymond. Clara nearly took a step back as a look of shocked rage began to fill those pale blue eyes. I mean no harm, maam, I swear. Im a medium, and Raymond asked me to tell you he loves you.

Who are you? the woman asked, her voice lowering in her anger. Her already watery eyes were beginning to fill even more.

He looked like he was in the middle of a good golf game, Clara said, hoping the bit of detail would mean something to the woman, and make her believe.

Almost as if beyond her control, the womans smile broke through the clouds. She brought a heavily-veined hand up, wiping at a tear with her fingers. Only Ray would come back wearing golf attire.

Clara smiled. Cleats and everything.

Does that mean they have a course in Heaven? the old woman asked, her voice serious, questioning eyes hopeful.

I guess so, Clara nodded. He looked awful happy, and he was standing here next to you while you were selecting your bread.

The woman seemed to take in what shed been told, then looked up at Clara, a warm smile on her face. Thank you for telling me, honey. My Ray always told me hed come back and say hello. Guess he has.

Yes, maam, he has. Youre very welcome. Clara squeezed the womans arm lightly, then turned and walked away, warmth spreading throughout her whole body, muttering to herself, Okay, so that was nice, but I cant get back into this. I cant.

Clara drove herself and Abby to a small cafe downtown that they both enjoyed. Typically the best places to eat were the locally-owned, hole-in-the-wall types. They found themselves a table near the front windows and waited for someone to take their orders.

So, how did your day go? Clara asked, glancing through the plain paper menu. She glanced over the top at her friend briefly before turning back to the sandwich listings.

Pretty well. Busy. A moment of heavy silence hung between them. Each woman had questions about what had happened that day. Abby had tried to put it out of her mind after Clara had left the Stoney Brook, but hadnt been able to. She was deeply bothered by the hot jealousy that had grabbed her that day, and could not figure out where it had come from. But how could she bring it up? How could she ask Clara about it, when she didnt understand it herself? It made no sense.

Good. I assume busy is good anyway, right? Clara asked, tossing her menu aside, having made her choice.

Yes. Its definitely good.

Clara could feel the slight tension in the air, and wasnt sure what to do about it. How could she possibly explain that her blood had ran hot when shed seen Abby talking to Jordan? How could she ask Abby why shed been so snippy about Clara talking to Shelby? What a mess.

They sat in silence for a moment, both grateful when the waitress came and took their orders. Left alone once more, Abby decided to tell Clara about her planned trip.

So, what I wanted to ask you was if you could possibly get your schedule free this weekend. With all this stuff happening with Jimmy  he drove by again last night  I just really feel the need to get away. My grandma lives in a gorgeous farm house up in the mountains.

Clara listened, wondering what this had to do with her. She had her hopes, but was afraid to really let herself think about what she wanted Abby to say.

Ive told her all about you, too. My grandma has always been fascinated by the spirit world, and wants to meet you.

Is this the one who had the surgery?

Yes! Abby brightened, nodding. So? Are you up for it? Want to head over the river and through the woods this weekend with me?

To grandmothers house we go? Clara said, finishing the Christmas song. Abby laughed, nodding. Claras heart was pounding. Yes. Absolutely!

Wonderful!

After a moment, their food came and they ate in silence, both women yet again contemplating the same thing, yet neither willing to talk about it first, or ask the first question. Instead, Clara decided to tell Abby about the incident in the grocery store. Abby was completely drawn in by the story, her eyes wide, never making a sound as she ate and listened. Finally when Clara was done, she grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth.

Clara, she said, tossing her napkin into her empty plate. Why dont you go into business again? Call me crazy, but somehow I dont see your destiny working behind the scenes in a bakery.

Clara shook her head, taking a bite of her own sandwich. I cant, Abby. After Mike died, I gave it up.

I know. But dont you think youre doing him an injustice by quitting? I mean, Clara, youve been given this unbelievable gift! How can you just walk away from that? You have the ability toe help so many people. I mean, jeez, look what you did for me. Youve give me peace. Made my pub safe again for my employees. She caught Claras gaze and wouldnt let it go. Theres nothing in the world like being able to do something for people that no one else can. Please dont give that up on a principle.

Clara sat back in her chair, chewing the last bit of her food. She stared out the window into the darkening evening beyond. A few people walked by the café, but overall the streets and sidewalks were fairly quiet.

you know, today when I was walking up to the pub I passed an empty building close to the Stoney Brook. A for rent sign on the window. She sighed, sipping from her water. For just a minute I had this fantasy of opening up a shop there. You know, doing readings for clients, plus maybe offering some products: candles, incense, books. That kind of thing.

Abby could see the war that was going on inside her friend. She could hear the longing in her voice yet see the determination to stick by her guns in her eyes. What made you think that? she asked quietly, trying to play it nonchalant.

I dont know. Opening a store like that has never even crossed my mind before. Clara grinned. Maybe watching my mom slave at the bakery all these years has made me want to follow the same fate.

Or maybe youre finally seeing what your destiny is, Abby said, a challenge in her voice. She eyed Clara, daring her to say different.

You think so, huh?

I do. Ive always felt there was something special about you. Something that very few in this world have.

Clara thought for a long moment, playing with the straw in her water. She sighed, finally able to say out loud what shed barely dared say to herself. You know, for about the past year Ive felt lost. I basically got up, went to work, did what I was supposed to do, then went home. I rarely went out, rarely did anything. My family was even questioning why I didnt have any friends, didnt try and rekindle any old relationships. She sighed.

Well, I dont know. Seems like you and Shelby have rekindled something. Abby regretted the rods as soon as they were out of her mouth. She knew she couldnt take them back, so she tried to cover it with a joking smile.

Clara saw right through the innocent, just kidding act. She studied Abby for a moment, a slow smirk spreading across her lips. You think so?

Well, I mean, I think its great. You guys were together at one point, after all, and hey, why not, right? Shes a pretty girl. So

 Abby let her voice trail off, already feeling stupid.

Clara leaned forward in her seat, pinning her friend with her gaze. Abby, were you jealous? she asked quietly, amused and extremely pleased.

Abby began to fidget slightly in her seat, feeling every ounce of the weight behind Claras stare. She couldnt meet those eyes, and instead focused on her napkin. I think jealous is too strong of a word, she back pedaled, but it was too late, and they both knew it.

Is it?

Abby decided to try another angle. Well, it sounds like she hurt you. I mean, she wasnt exactly keen on your gift, and not real supportive, so. She shrugged. I guess I just worry about you. I know right now youre pretty vulnerable with this stuff, just starting up with it again. I dont want her to dissuade you.

They both knew that Abby was only telling a half-truth, but Clara decided to let it go. For now. Theyd return to that subject again, and shed make Abby squirm. However, since the subject had been brought up, she wanted to know the details about Jordan Crossland. What was up with Jordan today? Does he come to see you a lot?

Abby grinned, a twinkle entering eyes. She definitely knew jealousy when she saw it, and she saw it in Claras eyes. Hes come in a few times. Hes a friend. He asked me to go to dinner with him.

Clara felt her blood begin to boil all over again. Abby, hes a jerk! Hes a player, and will only end up hurting you in the end. I hope you didnt tell him yes.

Abbys grin grew. And what if I did?

Clara shrugged, trying to act indifferent. Then its your broken heart. Dont say I didnt warn you.

Alright, I promise to not say you didnt warn me, especially since I told him no.

The relief that washed through Clara was palpable. She tried to hide it while taking a drink of her water. She heard Abbys soft chuckle. What?

Abby shook her head, thoroughly amused. Nothing. She decided to change the subject. So, will you have a hard time getting the time off this weekend?

Clara shook her head. Nah. Having your mother for your boss has its perks.

Abby smiled. Brown noser.

Chapter 48

As promised, Abbys grandmothers house was amazing. It was a two-story farmhouse, the type that would be seen in any Norman Rockwell painting. It had actually been built in New Hampshire in the late 1840s, but Abbys great-grandparents had the ancestral home moved to the mountains of Colorado in the 1930s, where it had been ever since.

The house was white, all the windows framed in shutters painted a dark green, as was the trim on the house. It sat on three hundred and thirty-three acres of land, out-buildings scattered across the property.

I spent a lot of my time as a kid in the Other House, Abby said as she maneuvered her way along the winding drive that was more than two miles long.

The Other House? What is that? How many houses does your grandma have up here?

One. Abby smiled at Claras confusion. My grandma calls it the Summer Kitchen, too.

Okay, but what the hell is it?

Abby laughed. Ye of no farmer knowledge. Its a smaller, separate building from the main house, that basically looks like a mini version. Inside is two main rooms, one a complete kitchen  stove, sinks, cabinets and all. And, below it is a root cellar.

What is that? Clara asked, no clue what Abby was talking about. Shed heard of a root cellar before, but had no idea what one actually was.

You store canned goods there. My grandma used to can jams and syrups, tomatoes. All kinds of stuff. Back in the day before electricity  which they didnt get up here until the 1960s, by the way  everything that needed to stay cool or be stored went below ground in the root cellar.

Aw. So, its cold down there?

Very.

Abby pulled up in front of the beautiful old house, a stone chimney rising proudly above the roof-line. The car tires crunched their way to a stop on the gravel drive. Clara stepped out of the car, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and looked around. The house was beautiful, the scenery surrounding it even more so.

Did you come up here often as a kid?

All the time, Abby said, leading the way towards the house. This, she said, indicating a white building to their left, the main house to their right, is the Other House. Ill take you in there. In fact, you might actually be staying in there tonight. They walked past it, Clara noting the small chimney that jutted up from the sloped roof. A couple years before grandpa died they converted the kitchen area into a sort of living area for him. He couldnt climb the stairs in the main house anymore, so slept out here, instead.

They entered through a door, which was actually the back door of the house. The front of the house, with its wrap-around porch, faced the road, but to reach it, it required a trek across the beautifully manicured lawn, edged with a colorful rose garden.

The back door led to the kitchen, which was bursting with wonderful smells and the heat of a recently-used oven and stove. An older woman dressed in the typical clichéd housedress was placing a steaming pot of something on the round oak kitchen table. When she turned around to greet the two women, her fire engine-red lipstick threw Clara for a loop. Perhaps there was more to her than a typical housewife/grandma. Clara could immediately feel her energy, which was wonderful.

Grandma! Abby exclaimed, hurrying across the small distance to the woman, who immediately engulfed her in a tight hug.

Hello, my love!

Clara stood back and watched with a mixture of joy at the beautiful reunion, as well as a small bit of envy. She had never been terribly close to her living grandmother. Certainly not like Abby obviously was with hers.

Abby pulled away from her grandmother and turned towards Clara. Grandma, Id love for you to meet Clara. This is the friend Ive told you about.

Ah, yes. I definitely remember hearing about you. The much older version of Abby stepped over to Clara, extending a warm hug to her, as well. Clara accepted it, which surprised her, as it defied her usual touch-me-not attitude. Youre abilities have intrigued my granddaughter for quite a long time.

Abby looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable, which Clara found very interesting. Well, things have just kind of slipped out from time to time when Ive been around Abby.

Oh, I dont think so. I think its far more than that, Clara. Abbys grandmother gave her a wide, brilliant smile. Lets you two sit down and eat. She turned back to a somewhat-blushing Abby. I made your favorite.

Potato soup? Abby asked with child-like glee.

Her grandmother chuckled. Just for you. Come on, sit and eat. If I know you, youve worked yourself to the bone and not taken proper care of yourself. Look at you! Youre all skin and bones! She took one of Abbys slim wrists in her hand and held her arm out so she could get a better look at her. Honey, why dont you eat?

Abby looked embarrassed as she spared a glance to Clara before turning back to her grandmother. I do! Grandma, I weigh more now than I have in four years. She looked down at herself. Where do you see Im skin and bones? She slapped the itty bitty tummy shed gained. Look at that! That is hardly skinny.

Grandma clucked her disapproval and turned to Clara for an ally. Dont you think shes too thin, Clara?

Put on the spot, Clara put her hands up in supplication. No, no. I dont want to get pulled into a family dispute.

Smart girl, that one, Grandma said, amused. She let the women sit down and began to fuss over them, making sure they had enough to eat, more bread, more milk or water. Clara wasnt used to such treatment, but enjoyed it, she had to admit. It was also the best potato soup shed ever had!

The Other House was a small space, almost like a studio cottage with two rooms and a basement, which as Abby had said, was basically a cold storage room. In the main room, which used to have a fridge and stove in it, and now only counters, cabinets and a sink remained. The back wall was lined with built-in shelving, which were filled with boxed games such as Checkers, Chess, Monopoly and Risk.

I remember these games, Clara said, pulling a game of Life from the shelf.

I used to play Connect Four with my cousins all the time when I was a kid, Abby said, tapping the box with a finger. My grandma has had these games forever. A lot of them clear back from when my dad was a kid I think.

Clara looked around the room shed be staying in for the night. A nice, comfy couch folded out into a double bed, which Abby walked over to, tossing the cushions onto the floor.

This bed is so comfortable. After grandpa died, grandma put this couch in here for guests. She grinned at her friend. Ive slept on this couch many a night. Especially during the worst nights of my marriage.

Im glad you broke it in for me.

Yes I did. Along with my Aunt Linda and her kids, that is. She began to make up the bed with the pile of linens Grandma had given her, Clara moving to the other side of the bed to help.

Where will you sleep tonight, and why arent you out here?

Ill be in the second bedroom upstairs in the main house. Grandma snores like a freight train, and I dont want you to have to deal with that. Youll have plenty of privacy out here.

There was a moment of silence and a growing tension that Clara could feel. They looked at each other, then found other things in the room to keep their attention.

Oh! Abby said, excited to have found something else to show Clara. She hurried over to the fireplace, grabbing a small white remote from the small mantle. If you get cold  because it does get cold up here at night  feel free to start a fire. She pushed one of the two buttons on the remote, a fire whooshing to life in its brick prison.

Clara immediately felt the warmth against her skin and stared down into the flames for a moment. So beautiful. You know, Ive always wanted to have a fireplace in my room.

Heres your chance. Even if it is only for a night.

Excitement of the fireplace fading, the tension returned. Clara held her hands down at her sides, her fingers wanting to reach out to Abby and touch something, anything.

I suppose I should head to the house, Abby said, her voice soft. She looked over at Clara, the flames dancing in her beautiful eyes. Is there anything else you need?

Clara shook her head, not sure what else to say, or even if her voice would work.

Okay. Abby reached for her, taking her in a tight hug, which Clara expected to pull away from within a few moments, but Abby stayed where she was, her head resting on Claras shoulder.

They stood in front of the fireplace for what must have been five minutes or more, neither woman willing to relinquish the comfort and warmth of the other.

Im really glad you came up with me, Clara, Abby whispered, tightening the hug.

Claras eyes fell closed, lost in the sensation of Abby against her. She nodded, the fragrant blond hair tickling her nose. Me, too. Thanks for inviting me.

Abby smiled, looking down at the fire as she was held by Clara. I thought you might think it odd that I invited you. I mean, here weve just barely become friends over the last few weeks, and then I go and ask you to come with me for a weekend at my grandmas house.

Unwittingly, Clara returned the smile. I was happy. I like having you in my life. There was silence for a long moment, and Claras heart clenched. She hoped she hadnt said too much or given too much away.

Abby pulled back from the hug, but stayed within Claras personal space. She looked into Claras eyes, studying her for a moment before a soft smile touched her lips.

I am, too. Im not sure how, but somehow you bring something to it, add a bit of sparkle that wasnt there before.

Its all my wit, Clara joked, a nervous smile on her face. The tension seemed to double within the span of five minutes. It now hung heavily in the air around them.

Maybe so. Abby squeezed Claras arm playfully. Or maybe its all your scary ghost-spotting stories. Its not everyday a girl gets to be regaled with such tails, you know.

Well, its not everyday a girl gets to regal someone who appreciates such stories as much as you do.

That I do. Abby knew she needed to just step away and go to bed, but she couldnt make her body obey. She didnt want to leave. She didnt want to head to the main house and go to bed. She wanted

She wasnt sure, but it had nothing to do with leaving Clara.

Are things pretty good at the pub? Clara asked, trying desperately to think of a topic that would keep Abby there longer.

Seems to be. I think you did the trick. I still wish youd let me pay you something for that.

Clara shook her head vehemently. Not a chance. I was glad to do it. And, she shrugged, who knows. Maybe youre helping me to get back to where I should be. Maybe, she qualified with a raised brow at the growing grin on Abbys face. Well see.

Im sure we will. Youll be back to doing readings within a month.

You think so, huh?

Yes, I do. Abby held out a hand. Bet me you dont.

Whats the bet? Clara asked, knowing full well that this was a bet she was likely to lose, The crazy thing was, part of her was very okay with that.

Okay, lets see. Abby thought for a moment. I bet you dinner and a movie that you do. You pay.

And if I dont?

Then a movie, but Ill make you dinner.

Deal. To Clara it was pretty much a win-win, so she gladly took Abbys hand to shake on it.

excellent! Abby held onto Claras hand as she grew serious. I really do want to see you get back into it, Clara. Nothing makes you look more alive than when youre helping someone with this stuff. Its part of you. In your heart and soul.

Clara looked away for a moment, looking into the flames which continued to pop and sizzle. You know me far too well, Abby. She met her friends smiling gaze.

Of course I do. I look at you and its like looking into glass. I dont know, somehow youre just very easy for me to read. I can see what Mikes death did to you, but I can also see what its doing to you to be so far off your path. She reached a hand up, brushing some bangs out of Claras eyes. Those beautiful eyes of yours. They should only be filled with life and sparkle. Not the drudgery of heading back and forth to a bakery all day. She shook her head. Its not you.

Clara sighed, trying to hold back the sudden emotion that had built in her chest. To have someone truly see her, truly look at her and inside her soul touched her far more than she could have imagined.

Thank you, she said softly, taking Abbys hand in her own and bringing the knuckles to her mouth. She gently kissed them, then held the conjoined hands to her chest. Its nice for someone to see me. it hasnt happened in a very long time.

Abby stepped forward, intending to place a simple kiss on Claras lips, a kiss of understanding, a kiss of friendship. Somehow it became far more than that.

Clara was shocked when she felt the soft contact, which quickly became more bold. Within moments she had her arms around Abby, pulling her closer as Abbys hands wound themselves into her hair. The kiss quickly deepened, both women breathing hard as the fire began to rage.

Far too soon for Claras liking, Abby pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed. She stared at Clara, her mouth opening and closing as she attempted to say something, but nothing came. Finally she cleared her throat, taking two steps back.

Im sorry, Clara. That was totally inappropriate of me. She quickly turned away, hurrying towards the door, tossing a good night over her shoulder.

Alone, Clara stood frozen in place, her skin still tingling from the feel of Abbys hands and mouth. She didnt know what to do or say, her heart still hammering in her chest.

Chapter 49

The early morning air was crisp and cold. Clara hadnt packed for it, so had herself wrapped up in a crocheted blanket shed found in the Other House. Abbys grandmothers land was gorgeous in the pre-dawn hours; the wild life could be heard in the distant forest lands, the moon beginning to fall as a new day readied to dawn.

Shed had little sleep, the events of the evening playing and re-playing in her mind. She couldnt help but wonder somehow if shed been responsible, or could have maybe stopped it. She worried what Abby was thinking, and if their fragile new friendship was forever damaged or ruined. So many questions, and a long drive back home, too.

Youre out here early, came a soft voice from the darkness. Clara cried out in surprise as Abbys grandma appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The old woman chuckled, amused. Sorry. Didnt mean to scare you.

No, its okay, Mrs-

Grandma. Everyone calls me that, and you will, too, Grandma tsked, joining Clara as they began to make their away across the moon-swept yard.

Grandma. Its your house, so by all means.

Scare you all I want? Grandma teased.

Clara chuckled with a nod. I guess so.

They walked on in silence before Grandma spoke. Ever since my husband died Ive had trouble sleeping. I come out here, usually around four-thirty in the morning or so, and walk. Sometimes I can get back to sleep after, sometimes not.

You miss him?

Very much. But, its not why youd think, sadly. I mean, yes, I do miss him, but our marriage was rocky for so many years that in some ways it was a relief. She glanced over at Clara. That may sound pretty terrible to you.

Clara shook her head. Everyone has their reasons for everything they do, Grandma. No one can say any different. You have your reasons.

That I do. But, I wont bore you with that. She waved off the subject. I cant sleep because for so many years hed wake me up either coming in, or because of his emphysema. He had a horrible cough that always kept me awake. I guess I got so used to it that I cant stand the quiet now.

I can understand that. Clara pulled the blanket a little tighter around her, the morning the chilliest right before the sun rose.

So, why are you out here, young Clara? What kept you from sleep?

Clara wanted to laugh out loud at that question, but decided against it. She didnt want to have to explain things to Abbys grandmother, especially since Abby may very well hate her come rise of the sun.

Just cant sleep. That happens sometimes.

Especially in your line of work, I imagine.

Clara smiled. Yes. Sometimes they like to keep me up. Spirits can be rude that way.

Im very glad Abby brought you with her, Clara. I can see you have a good heart. Good soul, too. She was quiet for a moment, leading them back towards the house. My mother was a seer. It used to downright give me the heebie jeebies, what with some of the things shed tell me. And dang it all if they didnt come true. She stopped them, smiling up at the taller woman. You have that same sense of calm at your core that she did. Its almost an awareness that the rest of us dont have.

Clara found it difficult to meet Grandmas gaze, it was so piercing. It was almost as though she were looking into Claras very soul. There was a part of Clara that felt that was exactly what she was doing.

Yes. I see it in your eyes. Very old eyes. Your gaze makes me feel as though Im looking into the eyes of a two hundred year old woman, filled with all the knowledge and wisdom of living all those years. Heck, maybe even older than that. She smiled, a roadmap of lines and crows feet erupting all over her features. its reassuring, somehow.

Thank you. Thats very kind of you, Grandma.

The old woman chuckled, beginning to walk again. Not meant to be, young Clara. Just what I see. They stopped at the walkway that connected the Other House to the main house. You get some sleep, honey. Whatever it was that kept you up will be better tomorrow. Grandma gave her a quick hug, then headed to the kitchen door, disappearing inside the dark house.

Clara let out a long, deep breath. I sure hope so, Grandma. I sure hope so.

Oh my god, Grandma, you should have seen it! It was so funny. Dont you remember her, Clara? Abby asked, sandwich halfway to her mouth.

Clara had barely been able to keep up with Abbys non-stop babbling all afternoon. From the moment shed first laid eyes on her that morning, all through their tour of Grandma property by Grandma herself, and now during their picnic lunch.

Uh, no. I dont think I went to school with her. She turned back to her macaroni salad as Abby continued with her story. Even her grandmother looked slightly confused. Clara was part relieved and part hurt. Abby hadnt mentioned the night before, hadnt been remotely personal at all. She had kept things on a cool surface level. Almost superficial. She told stories of her childhood at the house, told her grandmother stories about the Stoney Brook. Through it all, she hadnt once looked Clara in the eye. She didnt look forward to the ride home.

Clara tapped her fingers on her thigh in time with the beat of the song on the radio. The station had come in clear for ten whole minutes, as it had been going in and out as they drove the narrow mountain roads, the signal getting lost in the valleys they drove through. Theyd been on the road for an hour, and not one word had been passed between them. Finally Abby broke the silence.

What did you think of Grandma?

Surprised to hear her voice, Clara glanced over at Abby, whose eyes were focused firmly on the winding road. I thought she was great. I really enjoyed talking to her.

Yeah. I do, too. Abby was quiet for a moment longer, her expression pensive, something obviously bothering her. Im sorry about last night, Clara. She still would not look at her.

Clara waited, but there was no more coming. Why are you sorry?

Because I dont want you to get the wrong idea. I dont know why that happened, but I guess it did.

What wrong idea would that be? Clara was trying to keep her rising anger in check. It wouldnt do to end up in a fight while stuck in a car.

The idea that I can do that. That we can do that. She finally managed a small glance at Clara, but the moment she saw the look in Claras eyes she turned back to the road ahead.

Though you were obviously able to do that last night.

That was a mistake. Like I said, I dont know where it came from, or how it happened, but it did. That was wrong of me, Clara, and I hope you can forgive me. She spared another glance, her eyes filled with pain and confusion.

Clara felt her anger totally deflate at that look, and simply nodded, looking out her window.

Stephanie watched her daughter dip the newly-iced doughnuts into the colorful sprinkles. Claras actions were slow, her mind seemingly somewhere else. She noticed it more and more in her, and was beginning to get concerned.

Clara?

Hmm? Clara said absently, placing another doughnut on another tray for another day at the bakery. She peeled off her latex glove, as the last of the doughnuts had been finished and glanced over at her mother. Stephanie was watching her, brows drawn.

Are you alright?

Yeah. Im good. Clara tried to give her mother as genuine a smile as she could. Her thoughts were scattered, and she was having a hard time staying focused.

I need to ask you a favor. Plus, itll give you extra money in your pocket.

Clara sighed. Mom, I cant do a double again today.

No, it has nothing to do with the bakery. Stephanie chuckled, finishing up the paperwork shed been working on. She stacked the pages nicely, and set them aside, turning her full attention to her daughter. Do you remember Linda Bethel?

The Girl Scout cookie lady?

Yes, Lindas the one who always bought cookies from Kerri. Well, this weekend shes having a birthday party, and she wants to hire you.

Claras brows drew. Hire me to do what?

Stephanie hesitated a moment before answering. She wasnt entirely sure what Claras reaction would be. To do readings for her party guests. She chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for the fallout. She was pleasantly surprised when there wasnt any, just a curious glance from her youngest. She wants psychic readings, medium readings, psychometry, all of it.

How does she know I do all that? Clara asked, sitting back in her chair, curious.

Because I told her you do. Despite what you might think, Clara, Im proud of you and who you are.

Clara smiled, touched. Thank you. But you know Ive gotten out of the voodoo biz.

Honey, Stephanie began, taking hold of one of her daughters hands. Ive thought a lot about that over the past year, and I think your wrong to have stopped. Youve been given a gift by God, or by my mom, or whoever is in charge of that kind of thing. I truly think youre wasting it. And, she added, holding up a hand to forestall whatever Clara was about to say. I dont feel youre happy here. Im telling you this as a mother, and as a boss. Your heart isnt in icing doughnuts, she indicated the trays Clara had filled. This isnt what youre supposed to do with your life.

Clara could only stare at her mother in disbelief. Had she and Abby been talking or something?

See, the thing is this. All of us  me, your dad, even Kerri  are doing what we can to get by in this world. We dont have any special gifts or talents. None of us can go write a novel. Cant go record a song or paint a painting. You, however, have got a golden ticket. Why would you let that pass you by? There was so much earnestness in Stephanies voice that Clara was touched all over again. Dont let your life pass you by, too. I dont want someday for you to wake up and realize youve wasted your life, working in a bakery and icing doughnuts at the ass crack of day.

All Clara could do was stare. Shed never heard her mother talk like this before, and had no idea she felt that way. I have to admit, Im stunned. I honestly didnt think you supported me much in what I did.

Stephanie sighed, stung by the words, but knew they were true. I didnt support you early on, thats no secret. I really regret that, honey, and I hope you know that. I know I should have been there more for you during this, and I have to live with myself knowing that. To be perfectly honest, I think I was jealous.

Jealous? Stephanie definitely had Claras attention at that.

Yeah. Not so much at what you can do. Lord knows I have no desire to see dead people. She smiled at that, as did Clara. But you figure, my mother died when I was so young. You have no idea how much I would have done just to have her with me for one day during some hard times in my life. Ive never really had a mom, Clara. Yet, I find out she was with you all along.

Im sorry, Mom. I never thought of it that way.

You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. Thats just how it was laid out to be. What are you always saying: our lives were mapped out before we got here? I did this to myself, for whatever reason, and so now I just have to be happy and proud that my mom is helping to guide you.

Claras eyes welled as she took her mother in a tight hug. Thank you, Mom, she whispered into the embrace. You have no idea how much Ive needed to hear this from you.

Im sorry it took so long. Stephanie squeezed her daughter tight, then let her go. But I really do want you to think about what I said. If you need the bakery to help pay your mortgage, then work at the bakery to help pay your mortgage. Dont stay here because youve given up, or are being stubborn, or dont think theres anything else out there for you. She made sure she had Claras full attention. Okay?

Clara nodded. Okay. And yes, Ill be the Girl Scout cookie ladys party favor.

Stephanie grinned, pride shining in her eyes. Ill let her know.

Clara parked down the street, locking the car as she stepped up onto the sidewalk. She tried not to focus any attention the few doors down from her destination, not wanting to think about it. About her. It had been nearly a week since she and Abby had arrived back into town from Grandmas house. Clara had heard nothing from Abby, nor had she tried to contact her.

The storefront was still empty, the lease sign where she had seen it last, handing on the inside of glass and wood door. She cupped her hands around her face against the glass and looked inside. The space was narrow, but went back far into the building. Signs and stickers from the previous leasers were still visible. From the looks of it, the shop had been a skateboard store.

As she looked into the stores depths, her mind began to show her images. She saw a big sign above the, and painted on the storefront glass: SOUL SEARCHER. Inside she could imagine anything that a searching soul would be looking for, whether it was spiritual needs, organic foods and teas, books on coming out, maybe.

She could see an archway leading into an adjacent room, which couldnt be seen from the sidewalk. Depending on the size, she could imagine a curtained-off area where she could do readings. Bring in a few glass cases to showcase jewelry and healing stones. Candles, maybe display some incense burners, the smell of incense wafting through the store.

Claras daydream was interrupted when she saw the reflection of a familiar, but unwelcome face in the window next to her. She turned, doing her best to hide her annoyance.

Hey, Jordan. How are you?

Hi. I thought that was you. The big man glanced into the empty store then at Clara curiously. Window shopping?

Sort of. She gave him a sheepish smile. Whats going on?

Eh, just waiting for Abby. Claras blood began to boil at the statement, but she said nothing. Jordan continued on, not realizing he was one step away from being star of a homicide scene. Im glad I saw you, actually. We did this amazing investigation over the weekend that I want you to take a look at the footage. He grinned charmingly. I had asked Abby to come with us, you know, get some more experience with paranormal research since she seems so interested in it, but she said she was going out of town.

Yeah, you prick. She was with me at her grandmothers house. She even kissed me! Clara kept a smile on her face, not letting on what she was really thinking.

Jordan shrugged, yet again oblivious of the rage he was causing inside Clara. Next time, huh?

Hi, Clara.

Both turned to see Abby walking towards them. The pub-owner eyed first Clara then Jordan, then her gaze turned back to the medium.

Hey, Abby. Clara shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, trying to stop herself from throttling the pair. How are you? She felt so fake. Where once she had seen such warmth in Abbys green eyes, now she saw a stranger. Perhaps shed never known Abby at all.

Im doing well. You? Abby asked, her voice carefully controlled. She stepped up next to Jordan, who put a protective  or was that possessive?  hand on her back. Abby didnt lean into the touch, but she didnt pull away from it, either.

Cant complain. Clara gave her a smile, but felt her heart turning to ice. She couldnt take the pleasantries anymore, and the sight of Jordans hands on her was making Clara crazy. Well, you two kids have fun. She flashed them both one more smile, then turned and walked to her car, her pace picking up the closer she got, almost as though the confines of the vehicle would save her, somehow.

Once she slid inside behind the wheel, she let out a long, deep breath. The sting of tears to her eyes surprised her as she realized she felt like her heart was breaking. Seeing Abby standing there with Jordan, who obviously felt comfortable enough with Abby to be physical with her. What did that mean? Were they seeing each other? Why did she feel betrayed?

Damn it, Abby, she whispered, smacking the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. She started the car and drove away, determined to never see Abby again.

Chapter 50

Thirteen pair s of eyes looked intently at Clara, who stood in the middle of the living room, the women seated on various pieces of furniture, waiting. Clara closed her eyes, listening to the energies that were swirling around her. Finally a bit of information stuck.

Okay. Which one of you has something to do with a dog food making facility? Dog food, cat food

 She wrinkled her nose, able to smell the odors of the large plant, even as she saw a quick snapshot of it in her mind.

Oh my god! one of the ladies said, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. My father-in-law used to work at the Alpo plant in Tennessee for years.

Clara looked at her. Did he like fast cars, too? Im seeing them going round and round and round the track. She moved her finger in a quick circle to help emphasize her vision.

The woman squealed again. Yes! He used to restore cars during his off time. Muscle cars.

Okay, ladies. I think we have a winner to start us off. Clara grinned, proud that shed managed to connect so quickly.

The readings, and the information, flowed quick and strong. Clara made her way around the room, giving a little to each person there. Two of the women had no one they wished to connect with from the other side, but Clara was able to work with them, too. One woman she dazzled by reading the memories from her wedding ring, while the second she worked on her health.

Okay, Moira, she said, looking at the woman, though what she was seeing had nothing to do with the petit red head sitting in front of her. In Claras mind she saw the black silhouette of a human form. She saw no clothing, no internal organs, just the solid black form. She felt the need to concentrate on the legs. The area of the right knee began to glow red, getting brighter by the second, until it was an almost blinding, pulsing light.

What do you see? Moira asked, transfixed by the medium.

Whats going on with your right knee? Youve got an injury there. Clara focused in on the pulsing red and was able to see a thin black line cross the reddened area. Youve had surgery there, and it still bothers you.

Moira and a couple of her close friends gasped quietly, murmurs spreading through the gathered group about the knee injury shed received during a car accident ten years before, which had required surgery to correct.

How did you know that? Moira asked, a little disturbed.

I see it. She reached down to the womans skirt-clad knee. Its about right here, your scar. She traced a curved line with her finger.

Moira pulled up the skirt just enough to reveal her bare knee, and a faded scar. Clara grinned, amazed herself at what shed seen, and what had been able to be proven.

Okay. Let me see what else. Again she studied the figure  the knee still pulsing red  to see what, if anything shed see. Oh, Moira. You need to stop smoking. Again a murmuring of words and gasps. One woman laughed, claiming shed been telling her friend to stop smoking for years.

Why? Moira said, somewhat defensive.

Well, your lungs are beginning to glow a faint red, but I promise itll get worse within the next   Clara waited until she saw a number in her mind.   five years. She shook her head to shake the focus from the black figure and looked at the real woman. You can still stop it, if you stop now. If not, she shrugged. Its not pretty.

The party ended at nearly eleven oclock, and Clara was exhausted. Shed given out her phone number to eight of the women, all of which wanted to set up private readings with her. Clara was filled with mixed feelings at that. Did she want to go back into it? Yes, shed heard what both Abby and her mother had said, and their words felt right. Even still, if she went back, shed have to commit to it again, and possibly find more heartbreak, and possibly have to give bad news to the folks she read for. That didnt happen often, but it did happen enough to where it could be hard on her.

She turned out the light in her bedroom, getting herself settled in bed. The night was calm and peaceful, but she felt a mixture of glee and apprehension, tough couldnt quite name the source. As she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling she decided to do something she hadnt done in a very long time. She missed Rebecca, and decided she wanted to go see her.

Taking several deep breaths, Clara relaxed herself, allowing her mind to flow into the altered state that would launch her soul to the other side, where she felt her grandmothers presence and anticipation of the visit. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift away, closing a gate behind them so her mind was clear and calm. It took a few tries, as it had been a long time since shed meditated, and shed had a lot of excitement that night at the party. Finally it began to take.

The house which Clara had come to know was her grandmothers house on the other side, was quiet, as usual. The front room was small, arched bookshelves built into the walls lining two walls, an angled doorway connecting the two walls. A couch and two chairs were the furniture in the front room, while off to the right was a large archway that led to another room, which was like a kitchen with counters and cabinets, though no cooking surfaces, as eating wasnt a necessity there. On the back wall of the room, the longest of the two with bookshelves, was another archway that led back to the bedroom.

Clara walked into that room, always loving the feel of the space. The room was very different than the other rooms of the house. The room was large, the outside wall reaching out in a semi-circle, the wall made almost entirely of windows. The room was always filled with golden light from the outside world with its golden skies. To the left, tucked back against the wall was a bed covered in white bedding, while a leather lounger was placed in front of the windowed wall. Clara knew this was where her grandmother did her own meditations, which was often how she communicated with Clara.

Rebecca was there now. She had been in deep meditation when Clara had entered, but opened her eyes and gave her granddaughter a warm smile.

Ive missed you, Clara.

Ive missed you, too.

Rebecca patted the lounger beside her. Clara walked over to her, a bit hesitant, as she was mixed with a feeling of coming home, as well as not so sure this was her world anymore.

Please sit, Rebecca said, feeling Claras hesitation. She patted the lounger again.

The lounger almost looked like a deck lounger, except it was sturdy furniture made of wood and leather, and was nearly as wide as a double bed. Clara sat next to her grandmother, leaning back against the reclined rest.

How have you been? she asked, trying to find her stride again on the other side.

Good, though very sad. Rebecca glanced over at her granddaughter, her beautiful face filled with concern. I was worried, Clara, I have to admit. I wasnt sure if you would come back to me.

Clara felt a pang of guilt. I know. Im sorry. I wasnt really all that sure, either. She met her grandmothers gaze. I feel so compelled to come back, though.

Rebeccas smile was brilliant. Im so happy to hear that. I know how you feel about all this, and I hear every single internal battle you have. She turned to her side, facing Clara. I know this isnt easy for you, and Im proud of you for coming. I love you so much, Clara, and I want you to be happy. I want you to follow your chosen path.

Clara mirrored her position. I do, too. I just dont know if I have the strength to do it.

Oh, yes you do. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You cant lose sight of that wonderful inner strength you possess. Youve been through so much in your life to give you that strength, Clara.

But it got so hard! Clara felt frustration building, feeling like she was being a spoiled brat.

Rebecca smiled. Youre far too hard on yourself. Of course its hard. But you wouldnt have this gift if you werent strong enough to handle it, and all the good and bad things that come with it. Its all part of it, sweetie.

Clara sighed. I know. She felt defeated, knowing that everything Rebecca told her was dead on, but she was struggling with her decision.

Clara, Rebecca said softly, reaching out and touching her granddaughters arm. Youll never find peace and happiness if you dont find your way back to your path. Something will always niggle at you, something missing. Trust me on this.

Clara looked into her grandmothers gaze for a long moment, feeling the truth in those words. Okay. Youre right. She sighed again. Now, what about this Abby business? What the hell?

Rebecca grinned, shaking her head. I cant tell you that, but I promise everything will work out as its supposed to . You will find your happiness.

Relieved to be with Rebecca again, and feeling hope for the first time in a long time, Clara hugged her tight, extremely grateful to have her in her life. I love you, Grandma.

I love you, too, Clara. Rebecca kissed the top of her head. I promise. Everything will work out.

Okay. Im gong to go. Im tired.

You had a big night. Im very proud of you. You did good.

Thanks. Clara couldnt keep the huge grin from her face, proud of herself, and happy to hear her grandmother say it, too. Ill come back soon.

Good. Next time Ill show you what Ive been working on in m gardens.

Cant wait to see it.

Clara felt herself beginning to pull out of the deep meditation, her surroundings coming back into focus. She was about to open her eyes when she felt the pull to return to her meditation, feeling almost as though someone had a message for her.

She calmed her breathing and began to return, only to realize she wasnt heading back to her grandmothers house. Instead, she was at an ocean, and it was dark, which was confusing, as the other side is never dark. Curious, and a bit wary, she continued on.

The ocean was a dark entity spreading out far from the rocky beach, which white-capped waves pounded on. Looking up into the dark sky, Clara saw the moon, which was full of shadows and omen. The rocky cliffs that surrounded the beach on three sides were steep and unforgiving. A fall would mean death.

Where am I? Clara felt uneasy, as though she were being watched. It felt as though she were in the after shadow, but didnt now how shed gotten there, nor where in the after shadow she was.

Turning in a full circle, she looked for a way away from the beach, feeling a strong need to leave, and leave quickly. She saw an opening from a crag in the rock face, and began to walk towards it, hoping that the other side would be just that  the other side.

She got to the crag and was about to pass under it when she felt compelled to turn back to the beach. A dark figure stood at the shoreline, wrapped in a dark cloak. The figures back was turned to Clara, so she couldnt see who it was. Long, black hair blew in the nonexistent breeze.

Feeling that perhaps this person was why shed been called to the after shadow, she decided to see what the deal was. As she got closer to the figure, she felt more and more nervous, as though something bad were about to happen, or as if she were entering incredibly negative energy. Her steps slowed until she stopped, about five feet from the figure. Part of her felt compelled to take another step, while another part of her wanted to flee.

The figure was thin, the cloak it wore outlining the shape of its body as the breeze that seemed to be for the figure and the figure alone, hugged the garment close. She saw no arms, and felt as though the figure were actually hugging itself, bringing the cloak even closer into its thin body.

Clara stared, wanting to speak, but not having the first clue what to say. She took a tentative step closer but stopped, the figure turning its head just enough to show shed been detected. Clara waited, unsure and uneasy.

The figure turned a bit more, this time its whole body and not just the head. As it turned to fully face Clara, she gasped as a nightmare image greeted her. The long, stringy hair was lost in an extremely high hairline, the sloped forehead half gray, mottled skin, half bone. The face was a partially grinning skull, the other part covered with the same gray skin, though flaps hung freely, including an eyeball that hung from the optic nerve.

Clara screamed, though nothing escaped her lips. She quickly backed away, the creature beginning to move towards her. The menace in its eyes was plain to see, even as one eye was nothing more than an empty socket. She turned and began to run, not daring to look behind her to see if she was being pursued.

Clara shot up in the bed, Abbys name on her lips. She was gasping for air, looking desperately around her bedroom for safety. Realizing shed escaped, she placed a hand to her heart, which pounded painfully hard.

Jesus Christ! she gasped, still feeling on edge, and as though the figure had followed her from her worst nightmare to infiltrate the waking light of day. Or night, as it was nearly two in the morning. She cried out again as the doorbell rang out, piercing the quiet of night.

Clara pushed the covers off her and made her way to the living room and the front door. The doorbell rang again, then again. She felt a bit of panic seize her heart as she unlocked the door, worried there was bad news on the other side. Instead, a pale, frantic Abby stood on her doorstep.

Abby!

Oh my god, Im so sorry to be here so late. Oh my god, Clara. Abby began to sob. I need your help.

Whats wrong? She guided Abby inside the house, closing the locking the door behind her. Are you okay? Is it Jimmy?

Abby shook her head, trying to get her emotions under control, but Clara could tell she was terrified. Its the pub. Its not gone, Clara. Its not gone!

Clara stared at her in disbelief, truly worried as shed never seen Abby so shaken before. What do you mean, its not gone? she asked, voice quiet as she was afraid to hear the answer.

Whatever it is, its not gone! I just left. I dont even know if I locked the door. I cant go back there. She shook her head violently. I cant.

Okay, okay. Hold on. Clara took a shaky breath, still shaken from her own incident, which came back in all its scary-as-hell glory. Her eyes opened wide, mouth fell open as something occurred to her. It was playing with me, she said absently, once again seeing the horrible face.

What?

Clara shook herself out of her thoughts. Nothing. Come on. She led Abby to the couch and got her seated. Tell me what happened.

Abby nodded, taking a very shaky breath. Her hands were shaking as she tried to take off the light jacket she was wearing. Clara stopped her with a hand to her arm and helped her. Thank you, Abby whispered, running a hand through her hair. Okay. I got a call tonight around ten from my bartender. He told me there was a problem with the shelving behind the bar. Bottles kept falling off, most breaking when they hit the floor. Him and one of the waitresses had found some nails and a hammer, but it did no good. More bottles fell as the night went on. I went in around eleven-thirty to see what was going on. I mean, shit, I cant afford to lose that much liquor.

Clara nodded in understanding, her stomach beginning to turn as she saw where this was going. Okay. Then what?

Everything seemed to calm down for awhile, so I decided to head up to my office and do some scheduling since I was already there. We were busy tonight, so I went down to help during the one oclock rush. Suddenly the entire rack of bottles crashed to the floor. I got cut, my bartender got cut. Clara, it was awful.

Oh, Abby. Clara could feel the fear in Abby.

oh, Im not done yet. So, if we have no alcohol, we cant very well operate a bar. It was getting close to closing time anyway, so my waitresses began to clear people out while me and my bartender began to clean up the mess. The bar is near empty when the glass rack hanging above the bar explodes, Clara. Wood pieces went flying everywhere! Glasses fell, shattering on the bar, on the floor. Abby wiped at a tear with a trembling hand. After that I told Tim and the girls to leave. I came straight over here. Whatever that thing is in there, it was asleep for a little while, but its awake now, and its pissed!

All Clara could do was stare at the other woman, astonished. I dont know what to say, she finally managed. God, Im so sorry, Abby. Im really, really sorry. I thought it was gone.

its not your fault, Clara. You did everything you could that night.

Listen, I can see who I can get a hold of. Maybe I can bring in another medium for you-

No. I want you to do this. I only trust you, and I want you to get rid of this fucking thing. Im not going to let it ruin my business. Ive fought too goddamn hard for it! Abby exclaimed, near hysterics.

Hey, calm down. Clara let out long breath, trying to think of what to do. Listen, Im going to head over there. I want you to stay here. Okay? She held up a hand as Abby was about to protest. Please, Abby. I need to know youre safe. Please stay here.

After a long moment, Abby nodded. Okay. Ill stay.

Continued

Chapter 51

Clara jingled Abbys keys against her thigh nervously as she walked towards the Stoney Brook. The lights were still on, and she could hear music pounding from within. It looked almost as though the club were still open and rockin with business.

Walking up to the double front doors, Clara tried the handle, not entirely surprised to see that it opened. Now she had two jobs to do: go do a sweep of the entire building to make sure no one had decided to help themselves to the pub, and get rid of the dark entity that awaited within.

She carefully made her way inside, cell phone in hand so she could call 911 at the first sign of mortal trouble. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the bar, and the unbelievable mess that Abby had described. She could imagine how panicked and scared Abby and her co-workers must have been. The air inside the pub was heavy, the energy moving in waves, almost to the point of making Clara feel nauseous. The solar plexus is the chakra where energy is most felt, as its brought in through there, and released from there. The solar plexus is located at gut-level, so an abundance of energy was always difficult for Clara to be around.

She made a quick sweep of the building, her heart pounding in her chest, though she wasnt sure what was scaring her most: a normal person who had let themselves in, or running into the nightmarish creature shed seen in the after shadow. Satisfied that no one was in the building, Clara put her cell phone away and locked the front doors. No one could help her do this. Well, no one that she could call on the earth plane, that is.

Claras heart was pounding as she stood in the center of the main room and closed her eyes. She felt so vulnerable, as she knew she was being watched. What had tormented Abby and her employees that morning was still there, and it was angry that it had more company. Clara didnt want to go into the after shadow quite yet, knowing that it would do no good. No, what she felt as she reached out with her senses was that this thing was hiding. It was jumping back and forth between dimensions that Clara didnt fully understand. It was almost like it would peek its head around a corner, then it was gone, and by time Clara got to the room where it had been, it no longer existed.

Im going to need help, she said, blowing out a loud breath and looking around the room. Grandma and anyone else you can bring to help you, I need you now.

Clara began to walk towards the stairs leading to the second floor, not a clue as to what she was going to do once she reached the second level, when she stopped. She felt a presence in the room she was about to leave, but knew that presence. A smile spread across her face as she turned back towards the bar. Standing next to three bar stools that had been gathered by the patrons whod been sitting on them, was Rebecca. As when Clara always saw a spirit, she saw her guide with her third eye, not her two visual eyes. It was almost as though Rebeccas form had been superimposed on the scene: she was there, but not there.

Ive come to help you, Clara

Clara heard the words so clearly in her mind.

Thank you, Grandma. I dont know what to do about this.

Ive brought help

As Clara looked on, a bright light seemed to squeeze out of the air itself, nearly blinding. Stepping out of the light was a tall woman with blonde hair and a mischievous smile. After her came a man with dark hair, his dark eyes intense, yet he exuded a wonderful sense of calm. Though the man and blonde woman were dressed in normal clothing, Clara couldnt help but feel that something was different about them. One more figure appeared then. This one was a blonde man, tall with broad shoulders and a kind face, though his blue eyes were piercing.

Clara felt a sense of awe as she looked at the three new-comers, speech leaving her at the beauty of them and their entrance. She looked to her grinning grandmother, hoping shed give her some sort of clue as to who they were.

Clara, this is my help. Gabriel, Azrael and Michael

Clara didnt know what to say. She knew  though couldnt quite believe it  that she was standing in the presence of angels. Archangels, for that matter.

You dont have wings, Clara said stupidly, the first thing that came to mind.

The woman, Gabriel, smiled.

We come in the form you need us to. You would never have believed who we were had we come with wings and shining halos

.

Clara shook her head, gaze riveted to the stunning woman. No, I wouldnt have.

So, weve come like this

Azrael said, indicating his black clothing. Even street clothes, the Angel of the Dead kept his penchant for dark clothes.

Rebecca spoke next.

The dark entity in here is too much for you to handle by yourself, Clara. We need you to concentrate and fill this entire building with light of purity. Well do the rest

Clara nodded, almost as though she understood what her grandmother had just told her to do. Somehow she knew it would come to her as she did it. After all, thats how shed figured out most of her abilities. The same graceful way theyd come, the angels disappeared, followed by Rebecca, who gave her granddaughter an encouraging smile.

Clara shook herself free of her lingering shock and made her way towards the second floor office, where she felt drawn. The upstairs area was calm, even peaceful as Clara walked through, running her fingertips along the felt of one of the pool tables. The office was dark, which surprised her, as shed turned and left the light on when shed done her walk-through. Wary, she reached into the dark room, flicking the light switch. She gasped in surprise as she saw a dark figure vanish before her eyes in the corner. Hand to her heart, she forced herself to step inside the room. It was cold, the air filled with energy, all of which made just about every hair on Claras body stand on end.

I know youre here, you son of a bitch, she said, turning in a small circle in the room, trying to figure out where the presence had gone, and where the source of the energy was coming from. She knew she was being watched, and it took everything in her power to not run and get the hell out of the Stoney Brook, Abby or no Abby.

Clara whirled around to her right, feeling a quick chill ride along that side of her body. She saw nothing. The scrape of one of the filing cabinet drawers being tugged open startled her. She looked at it, staring in disbelief as the drawer moved again, metal scraping on metal until the entire drawer was yanked free, landing on the carpeted floor with a loud crash, accompanied by Claras cry of surprise.

Another crash rented the air as the handset of the telephone on the desk clattered to the desktop. Her heart was pounding, her breathing quick and labored as fear gripped her insides.

Come out, you coward! she yelled, voice echoing in the confines of the small office. She was tempted to go into the after shadow and find the presence, but something screamed inside her head not to do it. She realized it was the voice of her grandmother.

In the years since Clara had been dealing with the other side, and the spirits that inhabited it, shed never seen anything as negative and downright dangerous as the entity that seemed to be in Abbys pub. Shed never felt true terror in a haunted location before. Now, as she stood in the office, eyes darting around everywhere, trying to sense what would come next, she was nearly petrified with fear.

Clara gasped then cried out in pain as a searing hotness swept across her arm. She looked down, shocked to see two parallel angry welts across the side of her forearm. Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes, trying to focus, even as her heart raced and sweat broke out all over her body.

A sense of peace began to steal over her as she began to thrust energy out into the room, visualizing in her minds eye as the entire room began to fill with a white light, which spread out into the main room of the second floor, then down the stairs, then crept into every nook and cranny of the pub. She spread her arms wide, allowing the energy to push out of her, cleansing the space with the light of life. She could feel others beginning to gather nearby, and knew it was Rebecca and the angels, joining her light with their own. The light in Claras mind was beginning so blinding she could hardly stand to look at it anymore.

Clara felt the entity beginning to react, a dark push against the light. She could sense it nearby, almost as though it were trying to make its way back into the room after it had run from her, trying to combat the forces that were trying to dispel it.

In her mind she saw the small army of her grandmother and the three angels as well as the dark figure shed seen in her meditation. The entity was waging a fierce war with its own dark energy, while the other four, and Clara, tried to bind it with white light and positive energy.

The figure stopped, standing in the wave of light it had been bathed in and looked at Clara. Its dark, sunken eyes were filled with hatred that made Clara shiver. The creature grinned, its skeletal features twisting in malice as it opened its mouth wide, a ball of black heat flying out and hitting Clara right in the solar plexus. She nearly doubled over, almost losing concentration as nausea like nothing shed ever felt hit her. It began in her gut then radiated throughout her entire body, making her shaky and unsteady.

She almost lost the vision in her head but it all came back into focus soon enough for her to realize the creature was running right at her. She didnt know what to do, her body already trembling from the blast of energy hed shot at her. She wasnt sure what would happen if she was hit head-on by this thing. It got closer and closer when suddenly Michael stepped in front of Clara, swinging a sword of light and catching the figure right at the neck, destroying it in one fell swoop, which released a blast of energy and a nearly deafening scream that shook the spiritual plane.

Clara was knocked to her butt as the creature seemed to explode, her body on overload as energy seeped into every pore. She blinked rapidly as the vision disappeared, leaving her alone in the office, a quiet calm filling the space. She looked around, almost as though seeing it for the first time.

After a moment Clara got up off the floor, wiping off the seat of her running pants as she did. She ran a still-trembling hand through her hair and took an uneven breath.

My god, she muttered, unsure of what had just happened.

You did me proud, sweetie

Clara smiled as Rebeccas voice spoke softly in her head.

So proud. I love you

I love you, too, Grandma.

Clara was exhausted as she let herself into her house. After everything had come to a crashing end she had saged the entire pub, which involves lighting a bundle of sage and washing the space with the smoke, especially in the corners, as sprits enter and exit via corners, which people often forget to cleanse. She had filled the entire building with light, freeing the air of negative energy. She was satisfied that the Stoney Brook was completely clear now, and it had been spiritually locked, which means spirit energy is not welcome, nor able to enter.

A lamp had been left on in the living room, but the sun was starting to come up, and Clara had no intention of staying up to need light. She flicked off the lamp and made her way towards her bedroom, ducking her head into every room along the way, yet to find Abby. She stopped in the doorway of her own bedroom, watching as Abby slept. She was curled up on the comforter, the paperback that had been on Claras bedside table curled up in her arms.

Clara leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, sighing from extreme exhaustion, and completely charmed by the sight of Abby sleeping. For a moment she was undecided: should she wake Abby to either go home or move to the guestroom bed? Should she go sleep in the guestroom herself? Climb into her own bed next to Abby?

Making up her mind, as she was entirely too exhausted to go anywhere else, she stepped out of her shoes and pants as she walked to the bed, shimmying out of her bra while keeping her t-shirt on. Only in a tee and undies, she climbed under the covers and promptly fell deeply asleep.

Abby started, realizing the sun was blazing in through a window and right into her closed eyes. She found that confusing, considering her bedroom window was on the same wall as the bed, and the morning sun never woke her up. Then she realized she was not only bed with someone, but was cuddled up behind them. She opened her eyes and saw brown hair, and a lot of it. The body she was pressed to was warm and soft, her arm around the persons waist, and a hand resting on it.

It hit her. Oh shit. She lifted her head slightly to get a look at her surroundings and found that she was in fact in Claras bedroom, in her bed. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!

As slowly and quietly as she could, she extricated herself from the warmth of Claras body, immediately missing its softness and comfort. She climbed off the bed, realizing she had been sleeping on top of the covers, still in the clothes shed been wearing all day the day before. She had to pee like mad, so hurried to the bathroom down the hall rather than using the one in Claras bedroom. She didnt want to waken her.

Clara rolled over onto her back, her shoulder screaming at her for lying on it so long. That had been the position shed fallen asleep in, and wondered if shed ever moved. A glance out the window told her it was late morning, if not early afternoon. She felt groggy and sore, and quickly realized she was not alone.

Abby sat on the chair in the corner, reading the paperback shed started reading the night before, when shed fallen asleep. Seeing that Clara was awake, Abby slapped the book closed and set it aside.

Hey, she said, her voice soft.

Hi. Clara sat up, still trying to blink the sleepies out of her eyes, which felt heavy and riddled with bits of sand. What time is it?

Almost noon. What time did you get in?

Clara thought for a moment, trying to think past her exhaustion. I think it was almost five.

Damn. Clara scrubbed her face with her hands, trying to wake herself up.

Abby stood and walked over to the bed, standing beside Clara. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?

Clara shook her head. No. I gotta pee, then Ill fill you in on what happened.

Okay. Ill meet you in the kitchen.

As Abby left the room, closing the door behind her, Clara got out of bed, looking out on the bright and sunny day before disappearing into the bathroom. She felt like shed been run over by a truck. After taking care of her business, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Feeling almost alive and refreshed, she put clean clothes on and padded out to the kitchen where a pot of coffee was beginning to perk to life.

Abby waited patiently at the table, feeling somewhat nervous about being in Claras house again, even as she felt relief from the other womans comforting presence. She hoped Clara would be angry shed started a pot of coffee, but Abby knew shed need something to concentrate on as she listened to what Clara had to say.

Smells good, Clara said, padding into the kitchen and heading over to a cabinet to remove two coffee mugs.

I hope you dont mind. I figured youd probably want some to help wake you up. Abby smiled sheepishly. Even if it is decaf.

Hey, decaf has its purposes, too. Clara put the bottle of Irish Crčme on creamer on the table, as well as a bowl of sugar and Equal. They were both quiet as coffee was poured and prepared. After a long, satisfying drink, Clara felt that much more human. Your pub is completely clear now. I know I said that before, but I know it is this time.

What happened? Abby noticed something on Claras arm. Oh my god! What happened to you?

Clara looked down at the double scratches shed received, which were somewhat caked with dried blood. Shed been so tired when shed gotten home that shed forgotten to clean them out. Battle scars, she said absently, taking another sip from her cup.

Not fully understanding, Abby said nothing. She waited patiently for Clara to continue.

What you had in that place was a dark entity. Basically what that is, is a mass of negative, dark energy. Its not necessarily a spirit in that it was once an alive person. Dark entities usually hang around the after shadow, trolling to find spirits and humans to torment. I truly think it was using the other spirits in the Stoney Brook to cause problems. When I crossed those, it pissed it off.

So, when it got angry, it reacted violently?

Clara nodded. Exactly.

So, how did you get rid of it?

Clara chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, unsure if she should tell Abby the entire story. How much would she believe? She put her coffee cup down, wanting to give all her attention to Abby. You might think Im nuts when I tell you this, Abby, but I swear its the truth. I havent lied to you yet, and Im not about to start now. Okay?

Abby could only nod, intrigued by the serious tone of Claras voice .

My grandmother brought a few friends to help me get rid of this thing.

A few friends, Abby said, feeling there was much more to the story than just simply a few friends.

Yes. A few angelic friends. Clara studied Abbys face, carefully studying her reactions. She saw curiosity and intrigue, but never disbelief or disapproval. As in, Archangels. Gabriel, Michael and Azrael came to help her. Help me. Well, I guess help you to get this thing out of your pub. I wasnt strong enough to do it myself.

Abby sat back in her chair, not doubting Claras story for a minute, which she had a hard time understanding. Wasnt that absolutely absurd? Angels? Come on. How was that possible? And yet, she believed every word, felt everything Clara was telling her was nothing but the absolute truth. Her heart opened to Clara, as she could see the worry in her eyes. Without thinking, Abby reached across the table and took one of her hands.

I believe you, Clara. Thank you for doing what you did. You have no idea how grateful I am.

Clara had to stop herself from blowing out a breath of relief. She was worried that Abby would only not believe her, but would once again walk out of her life because of it.

Youre welcome. Im glad I could help.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as Abby gently released Claras hand and returned her attention back to her coffee. After a moment she asked, Are me and my staff safe now?

Clara nodded. Yes.

Abby nodded, pleased. Again, thank you. She felt her guilt beginning to gnaw at her, and she wasnt comfortable with that. It was time for her to go. She pushed away from the table and walked over to the sink, dumping out the rest of her coffee and rinsing the cup. I should go.

Clara stood, feeling her heart sink. She had hoped that maybe they could reestablish some semblance of their friendship, but Abby obviously wasnt interested. She also stood, ready to walk Abby out.

Okay.

Abby gave her a shy smile, then turned and headed towards the door, Clara behind her. Suddenly she stopped, unaware of why. She turned and looked at Clara. Come by the Brook tomorrow, Clara. Ill buy you lunch.

Surprised by the invite, Clara simply nodded. Okay. I will.

Abby smiled, then quickly hurried out of the house.

Chapter 52

Clara pulled up in front of the Stoney Brook, not sure why shed agreed to come at all. She felt somewhat apprehensive, and just hoped it went well. When Abby had tossed out the invite the previous day, the look on her face had said it all. She wasnt even sure herself why shed asked Clara to come for lunch. What did that mean? Did she not actually want Clara there?

Shit, Clara muttered, turning off her car and climbing out. Her cell phone chirped to life as she locked her door. The display screen showed her it was Kerri on the other end of the line. They had planned to get together later in the day. Hey.

Hey, Clara. Are we still on? I really want your help in deciding which color to choose.

Clara rolled her eyes. Kerri, why dont you just wait until your fifth month ultrasound?

Because I want you to tell me, thats why. I want to know.

Fine. Yes, were still on. Im at the Stoney Brook right now to have lunch with Abby, but I dont think thatll take all that long.

Okay. How about I come around three?

Sounds good. See you then. The sisters said their goodbyes and Clara tucked her phone into her pants pocket as she pushed through the front doors of the pub. She was curious how it would feel after everything that had happened two mornings ago. She noticed an immediate difference in the atmosphere and air of the place. It was quiet and calm. Peaceful.

Hey, youre the ghost lady, arent you? asked the bartender, whom Clara had seen there before. She walked over to him.

Yep. Sure am.

Well then let me buy you a drink. Anything you want. Were all so grateful for what you did. Scared the shit outta Abby and me the other night.

Ah, so you were there, huh?

He shivered, nodding. Never been so scared. He rested his palms on the bar, leaning on her arms. What can I get you?

Clara studied the new shelving that had been installed, the bottle of various types of liquor placed in neat rows. How about a chocolate martini?

The bartender nodded. Chocolate martini coming up.

Thanks. She looked around the pub, looking for Abby as her drink was being made. Not seeing her, she decided to ask. Hey, where can I find Abby?

The barkeep paused in his task for a moment, thinking. Upstairs in the office I think. Least thats where she was off to about fifteen minutes ago.

Okay, thanks. Im going to head up there. Be back for my drink in a few.

Sounds good. He gave her a charming smile then returned to making her drink.

Clara made her way up the stairs, flattening herself against the wall as two girls came down, the three unable to pass at the same time. The second floor was quiet, a lone man playing pool at the far table. He glanced in her direction as she headed his way on her way to the office. After a quick nod of greeting, he turning back to his game, concentrating on sacking the four ball in the corner pocket.

As Clara neared the office she heard voices  one of them was Abby, the other was that of a male. She was just positive it was Jordans voice. She stopped short of the closed door to the office, trying to swallow her jealousy. She had no right or reason to feel it. Abby was a grown woman and could do what she wanted, with whomever she wanted. But then she decided she wanted to pull out his eyeteeth with pliers anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to decide what she wanted to do. After a moments indecision, she raised her fist and knocked on the hard wood. She could hear Jordans voice rumbling low behind the door, but had no idea what he was saying. Abbys voice followed, just as low, then, Come in!

Clara pushed the door open, and her stomach dropped as she saw Jordan grab Abbys hand and tug her towards him, lowering his head to quickly catch her in a kiss. He pulled away grinning.

Ill see you later, then, he said to her, winking at Clara as he left the office.

Clara stood there stunned, unsure of what to do or say. Abby stood by her desk, where Jordan had left her, shyly glancing at Clara. Hey, she finally said, plastering a smile on her lips. The lips that Jordan had just kissed. The kiss that Abby hadnt fought.

Clara could feel her anger and jealousy beginning to rage within her, and she wasnt entirely sure she was going to be able to contain it. Jaw muscles clenching and unclenching, she stayed by the open door. Im sorry to interrupt, she finally managed, her voice low and strained.

You werent interrupting anything, Clara. He just showed up.

I see. Should I leave? Maybe the two of you can finish what you started.

Abby stared at her for a moment, shocked at Claras tone of voice. Nothing was started, Clara, she said, somewhat on the defensive. Why did she feel such a strong need to have Clara believe her? He came by to ask me to lunch, I told him I had other plans, and then you came.

And he kissed you. Clara felt sick at the accusatory tone, but she couldnt help herself, or stop.

I dont think its any of your business what he does. Do you? Abby placed a hand on her hip, feeling her anger beginning to bubble. In truth she had been shocked when Jordan had done that, but now that she was getting pissed, she wasnt about to let Clara know that.

Is that why you called me here? Right at that moment? Clara moved her way into the office a bit further, all rational thought leaving, which she knew was dangerous. If she were smart she would have turned right around and leave the Stoney Brook, never to return. Too bad she wasnt smart.

Clara, thats ridiculous.

Is it? Gotta prove to me that youre that much more straight, huh? Clara had no clue where the words were coming from. All she did know was that she couldnt stop them.

Please dont do this, Abby begged, her head beginning to pound. She had the distinct feeling that things were about to get completely out of hand.

Dont do what? Clara took another step towards her.

Dont say something that were both going to regret. Abby stood her ground, even as she wanted to take a step back with every step forward Clara took. Within moments they were nearly toe to toe.

Oh, I dont have anything left to say. Except this, Clara grabbed Abby face and brought it to her own. The kiss was heated and deep instantly, demanding and harsh. Abby responded, about to grab Claras hips, pulling her closer. Before she could Clara pulled away, leaving them both breathless. The next time he kisses you, you ask yourself if it affects you like this.

With those words, she walked out of Abbys office and out of her life.

Clara was having a hell of a time concentrating on what her sister was saying, which made her feel terrible, considering Kerri was droning on and on about what would eventually be Claras first niece. Her mind was a fog of thoughts and snippets of conversations and images. She could still see Jordan kissing Abby, and could still see the disapproving look in Abbys eyes when Clara had begun to get angry. She could still feel and taste Abbys mouth

Clara? Are you listening to anything Im saying/ Kerri asked, obvious hurt in her voice.

Huh? Clara looked at her sister and was immediately washed over with guilt. Im sorry. What did you say?

Kerri studied her for a moment, head slightly cocked to the side as she pondered. Whats gotten into you today? Youve basically been on another planet since I got here. Do you want to talk about it?

Clara immediately shook her head, a slightly panic seizing her. What would her sister say if she knew that Clara had fallen in love with one of her best friends? No, Im okay. Im sorry.

Its alright. I was just going to ask you-

Before Kerri could say another word there was a loud pounding at the door. The sisters looked at each other, Clara shrugging at Kerris questioning look. She pushed up off the couch and walked to the door, pulling it open, shocked to see a very angry Abby standing on the doorstep. Without a word or a greeting, or any kind of explanation, Abby pushed past Clara, grabbing her by the hand and tugging her off toward the hall that led to the bedrooms.

Im sorry, Kerri, but we need to talk, Abby tossed over her shoulder as she marched them to her destination. Once inside Claras bedroom, she slammed the door closed, whirling on a stunned Clara. Why the hell did you do that? she demanded, hands balled into fists at her sides. Clara had never seen her so upset and was completely taken aback.

Which thing? Clara asked, her own emotions turning her cocky. She crossed her arms casually over her chest, trying to hide the fiery emotions that were raging through her.

Why did you leave?

Clara was surprised, as she figured her leaving was the last thing Abby would be upset about. Because there was nothing left for me to say or do. Youve made it very clear since we got back from your grandmothers house that our friendship and anything else was officially over.

Which was wrong of me, Abby admitted, her anger only dimming a smidge.

Youre damn right it was! What the hell, Abby? You kiss me, then treat me as if I did something wrong. I cant play your games. I wont play your games. She glared at her, glad to finally say what shed been dying to say all week.

Abby was quiet for a long moment, staring off out the window, her jaw working as she thought of what to say to that. Finally she gave a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. Why cant I stay away from you? she asked, her voice quiet, resigned.

I dont know. I cant answer that other than to tell you that Ive been in love with you since I was fourteen years old. Clara threw her hands up in resignation. There, I said it.

Abby studied her for a long moment. Is that what this is? Clara only stared back at her, unable to answer that question for her. Abby shook her head, running a hand through her hair. Since the day I met you, Ive felt drawn to you. I never fully understood why. I thought maybe it was because of what you do. The medium stuff always fascinated me. She glanced over at Clara. You fascinated me. Why? She rushed over to Clara, taking her by the shoulders. Why? Damn it, Clara! What the hell cant I get you out of my head? Why do I dream about you? Why does my heart always feel like its about to pound out of my fucking chest when I see you? She shook Clara with the passion of her words and confusion.

Clara remained calm, cupping Abbys face, holding her still until Abby met her gaze unflinchingly. Because youre in love, Abby. Some things are meant to be. Clara had never felt so much conviction in anything shed ever said.

Abby had nothing to say to that, so she decided to stop using her head and start using her heart. The kiss happened so quickly that Clara actually took a partial step backward. Abby followed, holding Claras mouth to her own, their bodies finally meeting.

Clara bounced back quickly, sliding her hands to Abbys hips, pulling her as close into her body as she could. The passion inside her was fierce, and she could feel it coming off Abby in waves.

Abby felt overwhelmed and broke the kiss, wrapping her arms around Clara and burrowing her face in her neck. Her breathing was heavy, her heart thudding painfully fast. She sighed in relief as she felt Clara hold her, their breathing the only sound.

I can hear your heart pounding, Abby whispered, listening to the fast, but steady cadence.

Its kind of pounding, Clara chuckled.

That it is. Abby lifted her head, looking into Claras eyes. She raised her hand, brushing her fingertips down Claras cheek. So beautiful, she whispered. Suddenly she felt shy. Clara?

Yeah? Clara basked in the affection, feeling like her soul was whole for the first time in her life.

I dont know how, but I do love you. It makes no sense, but its almost like somehow my soul knows. Im drawn to you.

Clara smiled, Abbys words a balm for every bad thing that had ever happened to her: every heartbreak, every disappointment. She was far too touched to speak, so she let her kiss speak for her. It didnt take long before a fire had sparked into an explosion of pent up feelings and need.

Abby moaned into the kiss, her hands finding their way to Claras back, fingers clenching and unclenching as her want built, the fabric of Claras hands gathered into her fists.

Clara was surprised to feel her shirt being tugged upward, realization dawning on her as she allowed her t-shirt to be pulled off. She shook her hair free of the material, immediately returning back to Abbys mouth, drawn like a drug.

Abby ran her hands over the softness of Claras bare back, amazed at just how soft her skin truly was. Her fingers felt the material of the clasp on Claras bra and suddenly panic set in. She broke the kiss, looking at Clara with sheepish eyes.

I have no clue what Im doing, Clara, she said, wishing so badly she knew how to work Claras body.

Clara grinned then moved to suckle Abbys neck. All you gotta do is feel, she said into the supple skin, her own hands working their way to the buttons on Abbys shirt.

I hope you like what you see, Abby moaned, her eyes falling closed as the warmth of Claras mouth moved to the hollow of her throat. God, I hope so.

Clara was amused, and charmed by Abbys self-consciousness. As far as she was concerned, shed been waiting for this her entire life. She moved away from her as the shirt was completely opened, revealing Abbys bra-clad torso. Personally, she thought Abby was the most beautiful, precious thing shed ever seen.

A shiver passed through Abby as her shirt whispered down her arms and finally fell to the floor in a silent pile. Her bra quickly followed, leaving her topless from the waist up. She looked into Claras eyes.

Remember, Ive given birth, she warned, hoping beyond hope that Clara would approve of her body. Its not the body of a sixteen year old soccer player anymore.

Clara cupped her face, leaning in close. Stop. You leave me breathless every time I see you, Abby. To me, you are absolute perfection. I love you. She sealed her promise with a kiss.

Abby felt overwhelmed with emotion: love, lust. She grabbed Clara in a fierce hug and kiss, needing so badly to be touched and to touch.

Clara backed them up towards her bed, unbuttoning Abbys jeans the entire time. The denim fell down Abbys legs, pooling at her feet. Abby skillfully kicked her shoes off, then stepped out of her pants, reaching down to tug her socks off. Left in her underwear, she finished undressing Clara with trembling hands.

Clara pulled Abby down onto the bed with her, moving on top of her, their mouths immediately making contact. Abby groaned at the feel of their naked skin pressed together, her fingers stretching out over the expanse of Claras back, wanting to feel as much of that wonderful skin as she could.

You feel so amazing, Clara moaned, again finding Abbys neck with her mouth, one of her hands moving up to capture one of her breasts. She could feel the turgid nipple against her palm.

Abby gasped, words leaving her as she arched her neck, trying to give Clara as much as she could. Sensations flew through her, far too many to decipher, so she just allowed herself to get lost in them.

Clara moved further down Abbys body, leaving a wet trail as she went, until finally she found a small breast. She took the nipple into her mouth, sucking just hard enough to get a deep groan from Abby. Her body was pulsing with need. She needed to feel all of Abby against her again.

Abby welcomed Claras mouth again, gasping as Claras thigh made contact with her sex. She opening her legs, giving Clara more room until she was settled, Abbys own thigh pressing up into an immensely hot wetness.

Clara moaned, pressing herself down onto Abbys thigh as she pushed herself into Abby. They continued to kiss as Clara set a slow, lazy rhythm, just enough to ease some of the ache while creating a hunger for more.

God, yes, Abby sighed, the kiss breaking as both their breathing began to quicken. That feels so good.

Clara gave her a quick kiss, then began to make her way down again, needing to taste Abby. She settled herself between spreading legs, wanting so badly to give Abby pleasure.

Abby cried out as Clara began to love her, pleasure beginning to ripple through her with every pass and swipe of Claras tongue. She reached down, burying her hands in dark hair as she got lost in sensation once more. She felt the build begin, slowly burning its way throughout her entire body, exploding in a cry that echoed throughout the room.

Clara lovingly kissed her way back up Abbys body, suckling a nipple on the return trip. She was surprised when she was pushed to her back, Abby climbing on top of her and kissing her with an almost animalistic intensity, which took Claras breath away.

Abby wanted to make Clara feel as good as she had, as well as wanted to know what it was like inside her. She explored Claras neck and face with kisses and small nips, her hands making their way down her body. The skin was smooth and warm. Heavenly.

Clara moaned as she was entered, her hand tugging on Abbys shoulder until their mouths met again. Abby found the soft wetness tat enveloped her fingers intoxicating, and knew it was a place she would want to visit again very soon. She set what she felt was a steady stroking rhythm, not sure what she was doing, but trying her best to listen to Claras body.

It didnt take long at all before Clara felt her body bursting with pleasure, her sex clenching down on Abbys fingers as she gasped, her body trembling with the power of her climax. She could feel the tender, comforting caresses and kisses across her face and upper chest as she came back down to earth.

Abby smiled at Clara when those twilight eyes finally opened again. Hey.

Clara swallowed, her mouth dry and cold from breathing so hard during the intensity of her experience. Hi, she finally managed. Wow.

Abby grinned, pleased. This was pretty amazing, wasnt it?

Clara nodded, her thoughts barely beginning to actually make sense. What about Jordan?

Abby shook her head, chuckling. There was never anything going on between us, Clara. When he kissed me, I was just as surprised as you were. She placed a kiss on her lips. I promise.

Good. Clara pulled Abby down on top of her, hugging her close, their bodies molding together. I love you.

I love you, too.

As they drifted off into a light sleep, neither had even noticed the sound of the front door closing.

Epilogue

2008

Clara stood on the sidewalk, looking up to make sure the sign was straight. She smiled when arms slid around her waist from behind, Abbys warmth against her back.

It looks good, doesnt it? Abby said, resting her chin on Claras shoulder.

Hmm. It does. She rested her head against Abbys. They both looked up at the brand new sign which read: SOUL SEARCHER. I cant believe this is our second store.

Eh, I always knew youd be a success.

Clara smiled, feeling content and completely loved.

THE END

Note from the author ( xenanut@hotmail.com ): This story is somewhat autobiographical of what Ive been going through over the past year. Ive developed abilities as a full-blown medium, psychic and past-life reader. I wrote this novel to help me understand more fully what I was capable of.

Ive recently gone into business doing readings, and have been featured on Denvers Alice 105.9 FM show with Slacker and Steve, investigating various haunted locations around Denver. You can check out the video, or listen to their live broadcast of the events at: www.alice1059.com.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Epilogue