“You sure?” Rae asked, meeting my gaze for the first time since we got back. Her eyes reflected my regret about the assumptions I’d made about her.
“I’ll see you later” was what I said, instead of the paragraph that offered, sorry,I’m sure dealing with death, time and time again, is one of the hardest things ever. Of course, you never get used to it. No sane person would get used to the darkness.
Rae, December, and my brother disappeared inside, already talking about the joys of butter before the front door shut behind them. It took me around half an hour to get Kat and Frog fed and settled in for the night. By the time I went back inside, the house was sweltering from the oven. The air smelled of tomatoes and ground beef.
“Want to help snap some green beans?” Wilson peeked his head around the kitchen’s doorway.
“Sure, I’ll be down in a second.” I started upstairs to change out of my clothes and wash up. The temperature on the second floor was jarring, goose bumps rising across my skin from the chill. I shivered, checking the thermostat. There was no way it was eighty degrees Fahrenheit, like the dial said. It had to be broken.
Lovely.
Another way to spend money I didn’t have.
I dug through my drawers for a sweatshirt before goingto the bathroom. After scrubbing my hands and nails clean, I splashed water on my face. My skin was sticky with sweat and dust from the ride. When I stood back up to reach for my face soap, I did a double take in the mirror. My reflection didn’t have a speck of water on it. I frowned, running my fingers across my cheek.
Are you really that exhausted?
Short answer: Yes. Between last night and a full day of being on my feet, I could barely keep my eyes open.
I turned up the hot water and splashed my face a couple more times.
My stomach pinched when I met my gaze once more, my skin as dry as ever. I stared down at my palms where droplets of water fell from my fingertips.
Relax.
My fingers trembled. But somewhere in the peculiar, there would be an explanation.
As I bent over again, I caught my reflection in my peripheral vision. My torso was unmoving. The doorway behind me remained blocked by my reflection standing upright.
I jerked back up, pulse pounding as I studied myself in the mirror. There was a delay when I blinked. I poked my cheek, and that movement was also a second or so too slow, as if I was playing Simon Says.
My mouth parted, breathing hitched as my reflection pinched my cheekbone.
I hadn’t moved an inch.
My reflection continued to pinch, pulling the skin as if testing its bounds. Once satisfied, it tried the other cheek. I tasted bile on my tongue. Oxygen became impossible to claim; my lungs froze.
Noise from Wilson, December, and Rae moving potsand pans, and trying to decide what to listen to on the radio, found its way upstairs.
My jaw ached from the pain of wanting to call for them but not being able to scream. The paralysis extended from my mouth to my legs. The reflection leaned forward, pushing itself through the glass. Its mouth curled into a strained smile. There were too many teeth, gums as black as midnight. Right as it got close enough to breathe on my skin, it grabbed my neck.
The grip tightened, wringing as if I were a hand-washed item ready for the line. I thought breathing had been impossible before, but this restraint introduced me to a new world of torment.
The hands burned as they squeezed, a hot coal against my throat. Its face didn’t look much like mine anymore. The same structure was there, but it’d melted, the clay shaping into something new.
I willed my hands to move and got them to my neck. I clawed, trying to grab on to something as slippery as time.
Think. You can’t afford to keep panicking; think.
I scrambled, reaching for something on the bathroom counter. I couldn’t die, not yet. Not like this. Wilson didn’t need me, but he wanted me around. I knew that much for sure. And Kat and Frog definitely needed me. Esther loved working at the ranch; without it, she’d be back at the antique shop—fun, but not her speed.
Elmwood was ours. We were building it. I was finally building my home. It couldn’t end for me this soon.
But what made me so special? Why should I survive? This ranch would be here with or without me. And my brother would figure it out. Esther would, too. Besides them and the horses, no one knew I existed. Before Rae and Co., no one knew me outside of a name on a piece of paper. Noone of note. Nothing to offer. I was the ghost that’d floated from town to town. Except I never made a mark on anything. Never had the gall to haunt.
“Agreed. You’re no one, really,” the reflection spoke, voice distorted and low. “I’d be doing you a favor, wouldn’t I?”
Maybe.
