When I don’t say anything, his face falls. “Do you not? Like pancakes,” he asks, and I smile.
“I love pancakes.”
A lazy smile falls over his face, and a sigh escapes his lips.
“Everything okay?” he asks, motioning toward my phone.
“Yeah. Ava was just telling me about a girl who’s missing. Know anything about it?”
He lowers his head, turning his attention back to the pancakes. “Yeah, unfortunately. It’s my captain’s niece. She’s considered a runaway though.”
Either way, not knowing where your child is must be the worst feeling for any parent. I would be beside myself if it were Ava.
“Her parents must be worried sick. I would be,” I admit.
“They are, but this isn’t the first time that Chelsea has run off. She always turns back up.”
Another text comes in, and I look down to see that Ava has sent me a photo. When the picture loads, my mouth drops open.
I stare at the photograph, a sinking feeling washing over me. The young woman captured in the image, smiling wide in her cheerleader uniform, is more than familiar. It’s her, the girl in red, and the grim reality crashes into me.
She’s dead.
“What’s wrong?” Nick asks, placing the spatula down and turning off the stove.
I run my hands down my face, trying to formulate words. Nick knows about my ability. He asked me to use it to contact Charlie Dunbar while he was in his coma, stuck between worlds.
So why is it so hard to answer the question?
“Alyssa…”
I look up and push down my fears. Helping this young girl find peace and move on is more important than worrying what people will think of me.
“She’s dead, Nick.”
9
Eight of Swords
Nick
I suck ina deep breath, taking in what Alyssa has just said. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that she’s fearful I don’t believe her.
I do.
I know she wouldn’t claim this lightly. We’re talking about someone’s daughter, and Alyssa’s not the type of person to purposefully hurt others. However, it could be easy to mistake Chelsea for someone else. Especially considering that it doesn’t seem as though Alyssa knew her personally.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and clutches her elbow.
I lean forward, catching her gaze. “I believe you. I’m only making sure the ghost—or whatever you saw—was Chelsea. She’s my captain’s niece. It’s important that I get this right.”
She swallows, bobbing her head. “It was Chelsea. I saw her on Christmas Eve. Mrs. Fields did too.”
My mouth slams shut, head moving back slightly. “Mrs. Fields?”
“That’s why she was outside that night. She saw the girl staring at my house. She just didn’t realize she was a ghost.”
