Erik then guided us to the nearest train station and helped me figure out the machines that printed our tickets. It truly was easy. Erik led the way to the correct platform and told me which train to take. Dylan’s hand never left mine as we went from the station to the train, and out to our destination. The family lived a ten-minute walk from the station, so it was easy to find.
When we reached the house, I already knew it wasn’t good. The whole vibe was tense and had an angry feeling. There was a certain layer of sadness. A woman came out of the front door as we approached and introduced herself. Then she left us to it, walking out onto the street to wait until we were done. The house was empty. She’d assured us of that. It was just us and the ghost inside.Fun. It also didn’t go unnoticed that she knew to leave the property ground. It seemed she’d done her homework on ghosts and their reach.
“This place is giving me the creeps,” Dylan whispered once we were out of earshot of the owner.
I nodded. “It’s weird when the house is so warm and welcoming from the looks of it.”
“But not from the feel,” Dylan continued my thought out loud.
“She’s upstairs,” Erik chimed in. “I just saw her look out the window.”
“Great,” I sighed. That meant we had to go upstairs. After hearing how often people got pushed down stairs by ghosts, I was even more wary of them.
Dylan opened the door, holding my hand firmly in his while we entered. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, but this was literally our job. I braved on, pushing forward so I was the first one on the steps. It would be easier to kill Dylan if the ghost wanted blood on her hands, since he couldn’t see her. I knew nothing of the ghost other than it was a woman.
It was a modern home, but with warm tones to make it inviting and less cold. I wish I had time to admire the paintings. They looked to be either originals or made by the owner herself. Unfortunately, I began to feel the energy shift the closer we got to the bedroom.
“This is it,” I gestured with my free hand to the closed door, then braced myself before opening it.
Inside was a teenage girl, scowling at us from the bed. “What?” I exclaimed in surprise. I’d expected a mean old lady, a scorned lover, orsomething. Not a freakingteenager.
“I won’t leave,” the ghost sneered and it was so surprisingly hostile that I froze where I stood.
“Why?” I asked, trying to understand the girl. Her clothes were bloodied, a sure sign she had been killed. I couldn’t say the exact year she’d passed, but from her general look I’d estimated it between fifty to eighty years ago. A huge gap, but I was still so new to all of this.
“They haven’t come back for me yet,” she replied, her face turned away from where we stood, being obvious in her dismissal.
“Who?” I asked next, knowing the more I knew, the better I would be able to help her.
“My family, of course,” she replied, her tone heavy with sarcasm.She truly was a teenager.
“Uh, do you want me to find out what happened to them?” I offered, already taking my phone out to google their names.
She turned back to us, her head tilted in question. “You can give me information?”
I nodded. “In seconds if I have their names.”
“Nikolai and Grethe Hansson,” the ghost said after a brief pause. “I am Rita Hansson.”
My search was remarkably fast, the two names were easy to find, mostly because of an article about Rita’s death. I clicked on the English icon in the top corner and then skimmed the article, not wanting to read all the horrible details aloud. Once I was done, I faced Rita, the teenage girl who’d been stabbed to death in her bed.
“I found an article from the night you died. I can give you all the details you want if that will help you. But your parents are dead as well. Have been for over thirty years, now.”
She blinked. “They’re dead?”
Nodding, I read aloud how her father had passed before her mother and where they were buried. It was only easy to find because the father had passed on the same day their daughter had died. The journalist had made sure to add that to the title, mentioning how father and daughter were finally reunited after thirty years apart.
“They’re likely waiting for you beyond the light,” Erik said, his words holding so much power because he himself was a ghost.
Rita glared at him. “Why haven’tyoupassed then?”
“I need to find my partner before I can pass on. Something these two men are helping me with.” Erik’s tone was calm and collected, something I envied at the moment. I wanted to help reassure Rita, but at the same time I was so in my head about how she’d died. She’d been fourteen. Her death had been a robbery gone wrong. The Hansson family had just bought this house and many thought them wealthy. They weren’t, and when the robbers had made enough noise to rouse Rita awake, they’d panicked, killing her in seconds to silence her.
“Your place is beyond the light, Rita,” Erik continued, proving once again how good he was at this.
“Besides,” I added. “You deserve to find peace after all these years.” Dylan’s hand squeezed around mine in comfort.
Rita looked even younger as her eyes filled with longing and hope. “And you really think they’re waiting for me there? I thought they would return here for me. I keep calling for them, telling them I’m here.”
