I groan. She’s right. He made it pretty clear he has no interest in finding out where his afterlife is to be held.
“What the heck did he do in his life that has him so convinced he’ll be burning for eternity?”
“He was a drug dealer, for one,” Corinne says with a thick layer of disgust.
“I did it for her.”
Corinne and I both scream at the deep rumble that is Oliver Craft coming from the back seat. The car swerves into the left lane and an oncoming car blares its horn, veering out of my way.
“Ohmygod,” I yelp, pulling the car back into the correct lane, trying and failing to get my heart to stop galloping in my chest. “I can’t breathe.”
“Get your shit together,” Corinne snaps, eyes wide and mouth open. “You almost got us killed back there.”
Her legs bounce with leftover adrenaline. Not that I’m faring any better. I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel, attempting to keep the tremors at bay myself.
“Me?” I shout. “He did it,” I say, motioning to the back seat, where Ollie sits unaffected by our almost death. “When did you even get here?”
“Been here the whole time. Had nothing to say. Until I did.”
I let out an irritated breath. “Well next time, a fair warning would be appreciated.”
“We all know that would not have changed anything.” This time, it’s Billy chiming in. He’s appeared sitting right next to Ollie, who still doesn’t seem to know of his existence.
“Great. You’re here too,” I mutter.
“Who are you talking to?” Ollie asks, looking around the car for signs of someone else.
“Never mind. You can’t see him, and he can’t see you. Just pretend he’s not here.”
“Lady, you’re losing it,” Ollie says, drawing a chuckle from Corinne, who’s remained quiet since the near head-on collision.
“Clearly,” I mumble.
We’re quiet for several moments as I reflect on the past fewminutes, veer off the highway, and head toward the Crafts’ home. I’m thinking about all that’s been said when something niggles at the back of my mind.
“Ollie, what did you mean when you said you did it for her?” I ask, recalling what set off this entire freak-out.
“I dealt drugs to help pay for her chemo.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if I should’ve known all along that’s what he meant.
“I didn’t realize she was sick,” I admit, peering at him through the rearview mirror.
“She was, and we were going to lose everything. It was the only thing I could do to help.”
“Damnit,” Corinne says next to me.
“What?” I say, looking at her out of the corner of my eye.
“Of course the drug dealer would end up having a motive that makesmefeel guilty.” Her hands fly up in the air. “I don’t need this kind of karma.”
My head shakes at Corinne’s dramatics as I pull up to a one-story house with chipped blue paint and a rotting front porch. The grass is overgrown and mostly covered in leaves from the tall red oak tree in the side yard.
Half of the branches stretch across the border into the neighbor’s yard, which is well trimmed and free of leaves. I can imagine they aren’t happy with the extra work they have to do to maintain their space due to a tree that isn’t even theirs.
Not my problem.
“Things have gone to hell since I died.” Ollie’s voice is full of concern with a bit of an edge when he says, “I didn’t deal to see my home fall apart.”
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I find Ollie’s face contorted in anger mixed with a lot of dread. I can tell he truly cared about this place and, most importantly, his mom. Knowing that makes me question if Ollie’s crimes are really worth an eternity in limbo.
