I’m confused by the question, and embarrassingly it takes me a little too long to figure out what he’s asking.
Crap. He can’t see the ghost. Yep, I’m definitely racking up some great first impressions with this guy.
“Sorry, she took me by surprise. I’m talking to a ghost, not you. Don’t worry, we’ve met before, which is why I’m a little stunned to be seeing her again so soon,” I announce, shooting Diem a look that saysyou better not be haunting me.
Cohen spins, like he expects to find something behind his back, but there’s nothing there, because he can’t see her.
“She’s actually next to you now,” I point out awkwardly.
He side-eyes the space next to him, inching away from it a little before he warily stammers, “Uhh...oh...okay. H-how can you see ghosts? I thought you were an Osteomancer, right?”
Oh yeah, he definitely thinks I’m crazy. He’s going to tell Rogan to run just as soon as he sees him. Jokes on him though; Rogan already knows.
“I am an Osteomancer. I don’t usually see ghosts, so far I’ve seen this one...twice, but I think that had more to do with the reading I did for her friend than my strange abilities to see souls,” I reassure him, but I can see he’s not at all reassured.
I cringe and look back at Diem. “Is Colby okay?” I ask her, and she smiles at me before turning her attention back to Cohen. She looks him up and down like the snack he is, and I’m not really sure what to do about that. I’m tempted to tell him that he’s currently being checked out by a specter, but judging by the wide eyes and the baby steps he keeps taking from where he thinks the ghost is, I think he may have already hit his limit for weird shit today.
I turn back to Diem.
Okay. Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in an episode of Lassie, only instead of a dog, I’m talking to a ghost? Did Colby fall down the well, girl?
“Are you here about Colby at all, Diem?” I ask, trying to narrow down the reason for her sudden visit.
“What did you just say?” Cohen asks me, his voice suddenly flat and menacing as he takes a step closer.
I blanch at his tone. “I asked the ghost, Diem, if she’s here about her best friend. That’s who she was with the first time I saw her,” I tell him, unease skittering through me at the intense look that’s suddenly in his eyes.
“Diem, is that you?” he asks, but he’s facing the wrong side. He looks at me, desperation in his countenance now, and it makes me want to step back from him. “What does your ghost look like?”
“Uh...she’s tall, blue eyes, long blonde hair...beautiful,” I describe.
Cohen closes his eyes, and the quiet anger that was just etched into his features gives way to pain.
“Diem Wembly?” he asks, and Diem smiles next to him.
Well, shit. Diem isn’t here about Colby, she’s here about Cohen.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Cohen, I didn’t realize that you knew her,” I explain, my heart aching for him. I don’t know if that strange tingle that happened when we met was because Diem was here or if it somehow called her here. Either way, I’m relieved that I’m not being haunted, while also feeling bad because it’s clear this whole encounter is digging up some painful shit for Cohen.
“How do you know her...Diem, I mean,” I ask, trying to piece together the purpose in all of this. Am I supposed to give Cohen a reading? I don’t feel the draw to do that, but Diem’s most certainly here for a reason.
“We grew up together. Diem wasn’t blood, but she was like a sister,” he tells me, and I nod. “Is she really here? Can she hear me?” he looks around frantically, and I place my hand where Diem’s face is. His eyes study the space, like he’s looking for any sign of her. “I miss you,” he tells her, his voice suddenly strangled with emotion. “I’m so sorry about what happened.” His eyes grow wide, and his head snaps back in my direction. “Do you know what happened to her? Can she tell me who killed her?” he demands, stepping closer to me, like he’s ready to wring it out of me if he has to.
“It doesn’t work that way. I don’t hear her like I hear you; she spoke to me through the bones when I was reading Colby. But I learned then that she doesn’t know who killed her. It was fast and painless though. Her best friend worried about that and asked me to ask her.”
“Her best friend?” Cohen asks, like that term being applied to someone else hurts him.
“Uh...yeah...Colby. She’s looking into what happened to Diem.”
As the words leave my mouth, a knowing suddenly hits me. I haven’t read Cohen, and I don’t think I’m supposed to either, but I feel strangely certain that he’ll play an important role in solving what happened to Diem.
“What’s her name again?” Cohen asks, walking back to the kitchen table where he has a laptop that looks similar to Elon’s and an open notebook. He picks up the notebook, flips it to a clean page and looks up at me expectantly.
I look over to Diem, seeking her approval. She nods once, and then the white light that comprises her visage and allows me to see her promptly disappears.
“What the hell, she just left,” I tell him as I spin just to be sure she’s not flashed herself somewhere else in the room.
“What? No. I had questions,” Cohen barks out, as though I just opened the door and let the ghost escape on purpose.
