Abruptly Chiara’s head swung around.
“No,” she whispered. “No. Please.” She walked away from me, toward the kitchen.
I followed, rapidly sorting through my options here.
She was clearly sleep walking.
I had watched enough documentaries in the past year to know that abruptly waking her was probably not the best idea.
The TV continued to blare.
Mr. Knight-Snow and his team located and excavated the Sassari horde in record time. The speculation has been rife as to how they managed it. We spoke with authorities from the University of Rome—
“No!” she shouted this time. “Don’t leave me!”
Suddenly, she jerked to the left, her body going rigid. Her shoulders straightened, her head snapping upright.
She stalked through the kitchen, long purposeful strides. Ripping open a drawer, she pulled out paper and a fat marker. Bending her head, she wrote in broad strokes.
Carefully, I sidled up next to her, peering around her shoulder, reading the words:
Lightning is the only answer.
A flash of gold flitted in my peripheral vision. Startled, I whipped my head around, trying to follow the flickering.
Had she summoned lightning herself?
Nothing. Just sleek cabinetry and the hum of the refrigerator.
I turned back to Chiara and stumbled backwards with a loud yelp.
She was staring straight at me. Black pupils chasing all color from her irises.
Chiara’s eyes but . . . not.
“Lightning . . . is the only answer.” Her voice was pitched low and gravelly.
Again, Chiara but . . . not.
I blinked. That same something flickered again out of the corner of my eye. I spun but saw nothing.
“Understand.”
I whirled back to Chiara. She continued to drill me with her psychotic eyes.
For a ghost, you think I would have kept myself together better. But even by my standards, this was freakish.
I stumbled back.
“What should I understand?” I asked.
“Lightning,” she repeated.
She swayed, eyes closing, shoulders slumping.
Instinctively, I reached for her, only to have her walk through my transparent hands. Flesh. Blood. Bones.
I stood in the kitchen for a second, processing everything before following her into the drawing room.
