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I look away from Vivienne’s form, grab my phone, and thumb through my contacts until I find the one I want. It rings twice before I hear his voice, hating the way it instantly calms the storm brewing inside my head.

“Lydia, I thought I told you—”

“Callum,” I blurt out, interrupting him. “I-I–”

I find that I can hardly speak, hardly breathe.

“Lydia, what’s wrong?” he asks, his tone quickly transforming from anger to worry. When I don’t answer, his voice grows louder. “LYDIA! What is it?”

“I-I thought that I—” I pause, staring ahead at the empty living room before me. All evidence of my mother’s ghost has vanished, along with the strange charge of energy in the air. I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t know. I thought that I saw something.”

“Saw what, love?” he asks, frantic. I don’t have the energy to assess his tone.

“My … you know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I bothered you,” I say, remaining on the line when I should be hanging up.

“Lydia, please,” he starts, “just tell me what you saw.”

His voice is quiet, calm. I cross to the spot in my living room where my mother’s ghostly form hovered seconds ago and sweep a hand through the space. The air feels neutral, unbothered. A frown tugs at my mouth as I move to the door and pull it open, peering right, then left.

“AHHHH!” I scream, coming face-to-face with my mother’s horrid ghostly face as I drop the phone in panic.

Callum’s muffled yelling echoes up as the phone hits the ground with a loud thud. I reach for it, but a hand reaches out and grips my forearm, yanking me back up.

“You’re coming with me now.”

As I straighten and lift my gaze, I brace myself for my mother’s hollow stare. A sharp gasp catches in my throat as something tightens around my arm. A figure looms close to me, hood drawn low to swallow any resemblance of a face in shadow. Though I can’t see much of anything, one thing is crystal clear. This is not a ghost. This is a real, live person.

A sob escapes me as I stare into the dark that stares back at me, hoping that this time I truly am hallucinating.

17

The Watcher

I watched through Lydia Aston’s window as she talked to the ghost of her dead mother.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, not until Lydia said Vivienne’s name aloud to the empty living room, staring ahead like she was looking at a ghost again. And well, she had.

I know all about Lydia’s mother. I know everything about my Echoes. It’s odd the way the frequency decides to manifest in each of them. I am unaware of what it might show them until it does.

I’m not sure this should be happening. Perhaps there was a glitch in the music box frequency, but I am not at liberty to question such things. The frequency chose them, and that is enough for me. I am in no way responsible for what they see or how they react to it. They either persevere or they don’t.

Cordelia Virelli did not persevere.

It’s a shame, really. Cordelia was such a promising Echo. Her future was bright. If only she had been stronger. I tried to help her. I tried to make her see. The crime scene is a direct reflection of my failure as much as it is a warning for Lydia. I cannot allow Lydia to make the same mistakes, and that is why I had to intervene.

I waited outside Lydia’s house until she came searching, hoping that her mind would drive her to insanity and back to the hallucinations. Once I had her, I drugged her with a sedative and took her to my warehouse. She will be safe here. I can continue my work with her here, where no one can interfere. I only hope that my mind does not interfere. The tug within grows weaker by the day. Something is calling to me, and it grows louder.

There’s also Callum Thorne. After going through Lydia’s phone, I discovered that Callum was her last outgoing call. He’ll know something was wrong. He’ll come for her. He’ll stop at nothing. He’ll ruin everything. I can’t have him getting in the way of this, which is why I’ve established a plan for him, too.

Callum was never an outlier, but without Reverb’s frequencies, he is weaker and more susceptible to the sound. He will surrender to the Second Wave. I’ll make him my right-hand man in case something happens to me, the same way that Sabel did for me. And if he doesn’t do so willingly, then I’ll force him.

I thought that Callum had no weaknesses, nothing or no one worth losing, not after Kaila. It seems that I was mistaken. After watching him these last few weeks, it has become blatantly evident that he feels something for Lydia Aston. He may not know it himself, not yet. It doesn’t matter, though. I have everything that I need to control him now.

Sabel was correct. Love is pathetic. Love is weakness, and weakness can be wielded. Let’s see how far Callum Thorne is willing to go for it.

18

Callum