“Valdemar is going to try and bring Ed into a dream. I know it won’t be real, but it’ll be something. Anything is better than the numbness.”
Her hand moves across the table, and I reach for it even though I know I won’t feel her.
“Why do I have everyone taken away from me?” Sniffing, I wipe my cheek. “Am I just destined to be on my own for the rest of my life? Because it certainly feels that way.”
I can only imagine her words of reassurance as she tells me not to lose hope and that my life won’t always be this way.
We remain at the table, and I’m unsure as to whether my mother’s eyes are doused in tears or whether it’s my own tears that obscure my vision.
At exactly ten o’clock,I climb into bed, a crackling of nerves skimming my skin. I’ve tried not to get my hopes up. Valdemar said the dead don’t sleep, so how he’s going to get Ed into the dream, I’ve no idea. But I pray it’ll work, to see Ed again without the bullet hole through his forehead and his bloodstained clothing, to hear his voice again after all this time.
I can only dream, so I do just that.
The hallways are dim, lit only by candles burning in wall-mounted holders and the small flickering flame I hold in my hand. An urgency pushes me down the corridor, my bare feet slapping against the cold wooden boards.
The house is familiar, but not this part of it. This is new, a place I haven’t visited before. There’s a door to my left that I push open, looking for something.
The room is square, with large plum curtains drawn across what must be an enormous window. Sunlight streams through the small gaps where the two curtains meet, casting the rest of the room in a regal purple hue. Two children sit on the floor, a boy and a girl. I know them both, their silver hair unmistakable.
“It’s my turn.” The girl bats the boy’s hand away from the board, the ludo figures wobbling as she lunges for the die. “I got a six, which means I get another turn.”
“Sorry, I forgot,” the boy replies, moving back so she can throw the die again. “There’s no point in you rolling, though, as I’m going to win the game.”
The girl looks at him sharply, her violet dress bringing out the blue of her eyes. “You don’t know that. You can’t possibly know that. You’re just trying to put me off my game.” Sheshakes the die close to her ear and silently whispers a good luck spell before letting it drop onto the board, knocking down the stationary pieces.
“Sabotage will get you nowhere.” The boy darts for the fallen piecesas the girl picks up her red figures and places them on the board.
“No, but cheating will.”
“Hey, you only had two men out, not all four.” The boy moves two of her pieces back to her base as he laughs. “If you’re going to cheat, Evangeline, at least be subtle about it.”
My heart flares. A memory. One of many.
I close the door and continue down the hall until I reach another door.
Opening it, I expect to see a different room, but instead, I’m met with a graveyard, the rows of headstones blanketed with green moss, fresh grass growing up the sides as if they need tucking in.
Older this time, but only just, the boy and the girl stand hand in hand, a bouquet clutched to the girl’s chest, her emerald coat buttoned against the sharp breeze.
“How can you miss someone you’ve never even met?” the boy asks as the girl shivers.
The girl doesn’t look up from the gravestone. “I see her.”
“You’ll be imagining it. People see what they want to see,” the boy says.
“No, it’s not my imagination. I see her. Not all the time, just some of the time.”
The boy looks at her, his interest piqued. “How do you know it’s her?”
“I just know. You would know her, too, if you saw her.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Yes. Why would I joke about something like that?”
“I don’t know. Does it frighten you?” he says.
“No. She looks strange, like there’s light behind her or she’s not fully formed. I can tell she’s a ghost. She doesn’t speak, which is annoying. I’ve tried to get her to talk, but she doesn’t.” The girl glances at the boy. “You don’t believe me, do you? I knew you wouldn’t.”
