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Cassie was shaken from her reverie by Magdalena’s voice, but she was so deep in thought she couldn’t comprehend the words. The world came back into focus and she remembered she was supposed to be looking for shipping papers at the museum’s front desk. Tonya ran to the break room to get some coffee. She yelled something about her kid keeping her up half the night.
“Huh?” Cassie asked, as she didn’t hear what Magdalena had said.
Magdalena placed a newspaper on the counter between them and leaned closer. “Today’s going to be the day. Jason’s going to ask you out.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “You say that every day.”
“Yeah, but I have a good feeling about today.”
“You say that every day, too.”
Still, Cassie couldn’t help but glance at him. He was standing in the middle of the atrium with an elderly gentleman, explaining the best way to navigate the Savannah College of Art and Design’s Museum of Art’s many halls. His broad shoulders and six-foot tall frame made him look imposing, as did his security uniform. But his chocolate eyes and warm smile had a calming effect on everyone. Maybe that was what made him so good at his job.
“I see you staring,” Magdalena said.
Cassie waved her off. “How’s the hubby?”
Magdalena tossed a handful of braids over her shoulder and leveled Cassie with an intense stare; Magdalena knew Cassie was trying to change the subject. Luckily for Cassie, Magdalena didn’t press her. “He’s okay. The chemo is taking its toll, but I think we’re getting through the worst of it.” Her eyes glazed over but brightened again a second later. “He loved those lemon bars you made him. You keep baking like that, and he’s going to divorce me.”
“And risk never having your macaroni pie again? I doubt it.”
Magdalena was another bright spot at the museum. She was a few decades older than Cassie, but always had at least ten times the energy. Cassie swore Magdalena never wore the same outfit twice, and there wasn’t a drab article of clothing in that woman’s wardrobe. No one could ever guess what she would wear on any given day. Today, it was a patchwork skirt of orange, purple, and white, topped with a yellow blazer and a simple white blouse underneath. She wore a chunky necklace, huge hoop earrings, and rings on almost every finger. And yet, she didn’t look outlandish or gaudy. She could pull off anything.
If Jason had a calming effect on everyone, Magdalena was al
ways ready to get them pumped up for the day. That was why she was the coordinator of museum visitation. She knew how to handle people.
She had a way of looking into someone’s soul, just as she was doing to Cassie. “And how are you doing?” Magdalena asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You know that doesn’t cut it with me.” Magdalena snapped her fingers. “Spill.”
Cassie took a deep breath. It had been four months to the day since Novak had been put to death. Magdalena was one of the only people in Cassie’s life who knew the entire story. Or almost the whole story, at least. She knew Cassie had almost died—twice—and that her attempted killer had finally paid the ultimate price for his crimes.
Magdalena didn’t know about the ghosts, or that they all vanished the moment Novak took his last breath. But Magdalena was intuitive—maybe not like Cassie, but she did have a knack for reading people. Which was why she was always bugging Cassie about Jason.
“I’m good,” Cassie said. She formed the words slowly to make it seem like she thought about the answer. It was close to the truth. “Things are getting easier. I’m starting to trust that it’s over. My life today is a lot easier than it was a month ago.”
“That’s all we can hope for.”
Magdalena reached out to rub Cassie’s shoulder, but she let her arm fall. She knew Cassie still had trouble with people touching her, specifically her scars. Cassie offered an apologetic smile, but Magdalena waved it away.
“We’re all works in progress,” Magdalena said, “right up until the day we die. You’ve been through more than most. You deserve to be happy. Don’t ever forget that.”
Cassie nodded but couldn’t speak. A sudden well of emotion caught in her throat and she had to swallow it back down. It was not sadness or happiness, but a strange combination of the two. So much of her life had been taken from her because of her encounters with Novak, but it had also allowed her to help many people. She couldn’t erase her nightmares without erasing her dreams, too.
But that was in her past. Novak would never hurt her again. She could start rebuilding the life he had destroyed. And that had all started with this job. She hadn’t been working at the SCAD Museum of Art for long, but it already felt like home. With her art history degree from the Savannah College of Art and Design giving her an “in” at the museum, she landed a position as an art preparator. Working with artifacts and displays was more than she ever could’ve hoped for at this time last year.
Maybe someday she would become a curator, but she still had trouble looking that far in the future. She had spent so long staring death in the face it was sometimes difficult for her to remember she was allowed to live.
Magdalena clicked her tongue, and Cassie saw she was staring at the front page of the newspaper.
“What is it?”
“Have you heard about those women who keep turning up dead?”
“Yeah.” Cassie felt another lump rise in her throat, but it was nothing like the last one. “Did they find another one?”
