Page 53 of See Through

“That was just a coincidence. I don’t want this in my room!”

“Sis, just do it for a few nights and see if something happens. Why are you being such a scaredy cat right now?”

“I need sleep. I have a chemistry test tomorrow, and I don't want a camera watching me sleep with this thing next to me, lighting up a storm!” I’ve been studying all week for this test, and I still have no idea what I’m doing. I’m going to fail, and then my parents are going to ground me because my grade in chemistry is already terrible.

“We can put it on your desk and I’ll point the camera at it. That way, you’re not being filmed all night, and we can still see if the ghosts have followed us from downstairs.”

“I still don’t understand why you think they would.”

He tilts his head at me, as if I should already know this. “Did you not read anything I’ve sent you in the last week?”

“No. I’ve been studying, Adrian.”

“Well, sis, I’ve learned recently that spirits can attach onto emotions and people with trauma like a barnacle. I’m just curious to see if they’ll do that with this place. After all, our parents run a funeral home. It’s like there’s sadness coated in the paint in the walls of this place.”

“That was weirdly eloquent.”

“I try my best.”

“I still don’t know about this.”

“Please?” he pleads. “It’s just an experiment. We can get rid of it in a few days if nothing comes of it.”

I think about it for a few seconds, but I can tell he really wants to do this, and he’s not the type to give up on something. Ugh, the things I do for my brother. We are a team, after all, but sometimes, he puts me in the hot seat. It’s not like I want the ghosts to come to my room, but if this will help his hypothesis, then I guess I’ll do it. “Fine.”

He throws his arm around me immediately. “Thank you! Ugh, this is going to work out. I just know it is.”

“I believe you. Just make sure that camera is only on overnight.”

“You can turn it on and off before you go to bed and once you wake up. It’ll be perfect, and once we capture something, we can show Mom and Dad, and⁠—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. We cannot show this to them. This is going to be our little secret, and you have to promise me you won’t tell them what we’re doing.”

“I promise.”

The last time we showed our parents evidence of hauntings here, they grounded us. Since then, we’ve been investigating at night and when they’re on work trips. I don’t even know why he would bring up showing them what we’re finding.

“Good. Now show me how this thing works.”

My brother's voice fades as I jolt up from bed, panting and sweating, even though it was unusually cold this evening. Dean and I went out to dinner to celebrate my very first collaboration for my channel.

Speaking of my first collaboration, I had the absolute best time talking with Lex from one of my favorite podcasts. When I reached out to her, I never imagined I would hear back, but she was the very first person to respond to me. I had a true fangirl moment before we started recording, and I probably embarrassed myself talking about her books. It was an amazing next step to my career, and having one of my favorite people on it for the very first video collaboration was so much fun.

I even told her if she’s ever in Pennsylvania to let me know. There are a few serial killer spots I’d like to investigate with her.

I try and fail to catch my breath, but I don’t want to wake Dean up because of the storm batting against the windows. I turn to him, and he’s so calm as I watch him sleep, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

I can’t calm my racing heart, so I slide out of bed as quietly as I can, heading to make myself a cup of tea. I’m filling up the water in my warmer when I notice something in my peripheral vision. At first, I think I’m going crazy, but as soon as I set my warmer down and walk into my office, it gets brighter.

There’s a REM pod going off on my desk. I haven't turned that thing on since I moved into Dean’s place. Hell, it hasn’t even been used since our last investigation at my old house. There’s no logical reason why this thing should even be lighting up as much as it is.

“Adrian?” I say to the room, and it stops. “Is that you?”

I take a step forward, trying to see if it’s on, or if there’s some wire out of place on it, but there’s nothing I can see that would make it go off.

Just as I’m about to close the door to my office, it lights up again.

“Aubs?” I hear from in front of me. “What are you doing up?”