“I’m fine,” he groaned, his vision returning. “Are you okay?”
“I am,” Mercedes responded. “Can you get up?”
“Yeah.,” As he slowly sat up, he realized the people at the table weren’t the only ones in the room. As his eyes adjusted, he saw all these glowing, blue figures watching him with curiosity. A Victorian woman, a couple of gangsters, one of whom was a naked. There was child ghost hanging out behind the Victorian woman’s skirt, staring at him with curiosity.
There was a Viking ghost who grinned when he saw him.
“Erickson?” Sven asked groggily, touching his head.
“Yes!” the ghost shouted. “I am here! Glad you can see me again, old friend.”
That definitely didn’t seem right.
Sven rubbed his head and stood. There was so much chatter, both from the ghosts and everyone at the table. As he righted himself, he caught sight of the one spirit he’d been searching for. Florence stood off to the side, looking anxious. She was dressed in the gold dress he’d bought her. Dressed like she was the last time he saw her, the last time he held her and kissed her.
Tears stung his eyes. He took a step forward, mouthing her name in disbelief, because he couldn’t believe it and couldn’t form the word.
She grasped the strand of pearls around her neck, shook her head, and then disappeared quickly through the wall.
“Sven?” Magnus asked. “Did you say you can see Erickson? Like Erickson from our old landing party? Erickson who was eaten by a cougar?”
Sven nodded and turned back to them. “Yes. I can see dead people.”
Chapter
Two
That was intense.
Flo had managed to get back to her safe place under the house. It’s where she always retreated to, somewhere the other spirits couldn’t follow and where she’d woken up the first time she opened her eyes. She didn’t have a memory of ever being aware before.
Or if she did, it was gone.
All she remembered was here and her name.
And him.
Fragmented memories that she wasn’t sure were real, yet they were there nonetheless. The best part was that they also made her feel safe, which was why she had been so protective of him when he first bought the house. She was bound to the property, and in the early days of her existence, she could recall him.
More clearly.
Except he wasn’t there, in those first few times she ventured from this room.
For years, no one was in the house except her and the other ghosts, who seemed to be wary of her. They didn’t think she was a ghost, but Flo found that hard to believe because she couldmove through walls. However, she could also touch things. The few books that remained helped her pass the time, and one of them was about the occult, so she was able to determine what she was.
Sort of.
Then, one day he showed up with his brother. She remembered trying to get his attention because she saw him when she dreamed, but it didn’t work. Then more books arrived in the house and she was able to figure out a bit more about her predicament.
The more she learned about it, the less she remembered.
And then Mercedes came. The witch who could see her.
Why?
She told me once, but why can’t I remember it?Flo curled up on her tangled old blankets in the corner of the dusty room she inhabited, hugging her knees as she buried her face into the soft fabric of the dress she’d been wearing for her entire existence.
Maybe this was hell?
