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“Of course not,” Belle replied evenly. “But fate has a plan for us all, and sometimes it's not always pleasant and fair.”
You can say that again. She paused and appeared to notice her surroundings for the first time. Where am I? And where is Mom?
“Your mom has moved on,” Belle said gently. “It was her time and she has other lives to live.”
So why am I still here? Alice asked. Why haven't I moved on?
“Because your murder wasn't part of fate's plan and, as a result, your soul remains here in this lifetime.”
Belle's soothing tone was working—Alice's anger was leaching from her expression. Meaning what?
“Meaning you may or may not be able to move on.”
So I'm a ghost? That hardly seems fair.
Life isn't fair, I wanted to say, but kept the comment down. It would only inflame her again and that wasn't what we needed right now.
“It's possible that I could help you move on, if you wish,” Belle said. “But I need you to answer a couple of questions first.”
What happens if I do move on?
“Your soul is reborn and you get to live a new—and hopefully longer—life.”
And if I don't?
“Then you remain here, in this form, unable to experience all that life has to offer ever again. You won't even be able to communicate with anyone other than the occasional psychic.”
Well, fuck, there's not really a choice then, is there? She paused, a slight frown marring her ghostly features. Will Mom and I be together again in the next life?
“There are always souls who are destined to travel with us through eternity. Your mother could well be one of yours.”
Which wasn't exactly the confirmation Alice was seeking, but it seemed to satisfy her.
What do you wish to know?
“What was your mother doing when you went inside the house?”
She was just sitting in the darkened living room. She looked asleep except she couldn't have been, given she'd looked out the window at me only a couple of minutes before.
Which suggested the spirit in control had probably shut things down to conserve its strength. I might not know much about skin walkers—if indeed that was what we were dealing with rather than some sort of fire spirit—but I did know that most spirits were somewhat weakened by daylight.
“Did you notice anything unusual? Either about your mom or the house itself.”
No, not really. Alice hesitated. Well, other than the fact she was sitting there naked.
It was a comment that had me thinking—had Alice been wearing clothes when she'd left her mother's house? Everything had happened so fast that I couldn't actually remember if she had been or not. It would certainly explain why there hadn't been much in the way of clothing—or remnants of such—near any of the flesh piles, but still left the question of why none had been discovered near any of the bodies.
“Can you tell me what happened after that?” Belle asked.
I woke her up, of course. She hesitated again. She was kinda out of it, though. Speech was slurred, eyes unfocused. I thought she might have had a stroke or something, so I went into the kitchen to call an ambulance.
“Why the kitchen?” Belle asked. “You had your phone with you, because you rang us.”
Because mine died just as I started calling, so I went into the kitchen to grab Mom's.
“What happened then?”
Just for a heartbeat, Alice's form shimmered. Fighting the memories that rose, perhaps?
