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My hand slipped off the end of the railing, and I pitched forward. I'd reached the top. A trickle of moonlight came from the tiny attic window, but even after I paused to let my eyes adjust, I could only make out vague shapes.
I walked with my hands out, feeling my way. I smacked into something, and it sent up a cloud of dust. My hands flew over my nose to stifle a sneeze.
“Girl . . . ”
I stiffened. It was the ghost from the basement, the one who kept insisting I open the locked door. I took a deep breath. Whoever he was, he couldn't hurt me. Even that janitor, as hard as he tried, couldn't do
anything more than scare me.
I had the power here. I was the necromancer.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“. . . contact . . . get through…”
“I can't understand you. ”
“. . . blocked…”
Something was blocking him from making contact? Leftover meds in my system?
“. . . basement… try…”
“Try that door again? Forget it. No more basements. No more attics. If you want to talk to me, do it on the main level. Got it?”
“. . . can't… block…”
“Yes, you're blocked. I think it's something I was taking, but it should be better tomorrow. Talk to me in my room. When I'm alone. Okay?”
Silence. I repeated it, but he didn't answer. I stood there, shivering, for at least five minutes before trying one last time. When he didn't respond, I turned toward the stairs.
“Chloe?”
I wheeled so fast I knocked into something at knee level, my bare legs scraping against wood, hands hitting the top with a thud, enveloping me in a cloud of dust. I sneezed.
“Bless you. ” A giggle. “Do you know why we say that?”
Blood pounded in my ears as I recognized the voice. I could make out Liz, a few feet away, dressed in her Minnie Mouse nightshirt.
“It's because when we sneeze, our soul flies out our nose and if no one says 'bless you,' the devil can snatch it. ” Another giggle. “Or so my nana always said. Funny, huh?”
I opened my mouth but couldn't force words out.
She looked around, nose wrinkling. “Is this the attic? What are we doing up here?”
“I—I—I—I—”
“Take a deep breath. That always helps my brother. “ Another look around. ”How did we get up here? Oh, right. The séance. We were going to do a séance. "
“Séance?” I hesitated. “Don't you remember?”
“Remember what?” She frowned. “Are you okay, Chloe?”
No, I was pretty sure I wasn't. “You… never mind. I—I was just talking to a man. Can you see him? Is he here?”
“Um, no. It's just us. ” Her eyes went round. “Are you seeing ghosts?”
“Gh-?ghosts?”
“Chloe?”
This voice was sharp and I spun to see Mrs. Talbot feeling her way over to me. I turned back to Liz. No one was there.
“Chloe, what are you doing up here?”
“I—I—I—I thought I heard . . . a mouse. Or a rat. Something was moving around up here. ”
“And you were talking to it?” Tori stepped through the attic doorway.
“N-?no, I—I—”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure I heard you say ghost. And you were definitely talking to someone. It seems you aren't quite as cured as you said you were. ”
* * *
Mrs. Talbot brought me a sleeping pill and waited while I took it. The whole time, she didn't say a word to me, but as I heard her feet tapping double time down the stairs, I knew there would be a lot of words for Dr. Gill and Dr. Davidoff.
I'd blown it.
Tears burned my eyes. I swiped them back.
“You really can see ghosts, can't you?” Rae whispered.
I said nothing.
“I heard what happened. You aren't even going to admit it to me now, are you?”
“I want to get out of here. ”
“News flash. We all do. ” An edge crept into her voice. “It's fine to lie to them. But I thought you were seeing ghosts even before you did. Who gave you the idea of looking up that guy you saw at your school? You looked him up, didn't you? You just didn't bother to tell me. ”
“That's not—"
She rolled over, her back to me. I knew I should say something, but I wasn't sure what.
When I closed my eyes, I saw Liz again and my stomach clenched.
Had I really seen her? Talked to her? I struggled for some other explanation. She couldn't be a ghost because I'd seen and heard her clearly—not like the ghost who'd called me up there. And she couldn't be dead. The nurses had promised we could talk to her.
When could we talk to her?
I struggled to get up, suddenly needing to know now. But I was so tired that I couldn't think straight and hovered there, propped up on my elbows, as the sleeping pill kicked in.
Something about Liz. I wanted to check. …
My head fell back to the pillow.
Twenty-one
THE NEXT MORNING WHEN I was called into a meeting with the doctors, I did my best damage control. I claimed I really had gotten past the I-?see-?dead-?people stage and accepted my condition, but had woken up hearing a voice in the night, calling me to the attic. I'd been confused, sleep drunk, dreaming of seeing ghosts, not really seeing them.
Dr. Gill and Dr. Davidoff didn't fully appreciate the distinction.
Then Aunt Lauren arrived. It was like when I'd been eleven, caught peeking at test scores, egged on by the new classmates I'd been eager to impress. Being hauled to the principal's office had been bad enough. But the disappointment on Aunt Lauren's face had hurt worse than any punishment.
That day, I saw the same disappointment, and it didn't hurt any less.
In the end, I managed to persuade them all that I'd had a minor setback, but it was like the little boy crying wolf. The next time I said I was improving, they'd be a lot slower to believe me. No quick track to release now.
“We're going to need you to provide urine samples for the next week,” Dr. Gill said.
“Oh, that's ridiculous,” Aunt Lauren said. “How do we know she wasn't sleepwalking and dreaming? She can't control her dreams. ”
“Dreams are the windows to the soul,” Dr. Gill said.
“That's the eyes," my aunt snapped.
