Her hands trembled.
“Baby, I don’t know what’s happening anymore,” she said, feeling as if her daughter was sitting right beside her.
The reply came soft.Toosoft to belong to the living.
“You do, Mom. You’ve always known.”
Mary’s breath hitched. Maybe she was losing her mind. Or maybe her mind was finally telling the truth she’d avoided for years.
“I know you aren’t here,” she whispered, “but I want it so badly . . . I don’t want to fight it anymore. I hear you.”
“Mom, you talk about death like it’s someone else’s story. But, we’re both a part of it.”
Tears slid down Mary’s face. “I can’t face it.”
“You taught me well, Mom. Stories have consequences,” her daughter whispered.
Mary’s stomach knotted. “Not like this,” she said. “Not this kind of consequence.”
“You think this is new?” the voice sighed. “You started paying the price a long time ago.”
Mary closed her eyes, pressing her palms to her ears. “You were my light. I’d give anything to hold you again.”
“Then quit denying that you hear me,” came the soft reply. “And don’t pretend you’re innocent in what’s happening now.”
Something cold settled in Mary’s gut.
As if shedidknow something.
As if she had been running from it for years.
The candle flared violently, the flame stretching thin before snapping back. For a heartbeat, Mary swore she saw her daughter’s silhouette in the window—hair, shoulders, the tilt of her chin. She could almost look into her eyes.
Almost.
Mary stood and paced. “Don’t do this, Baby, please, don’t make me remember.”
“You called me, Mom. I’ve always been here. But, I can only come when you call.”
Mary’s head was spinning so she wasn’t sure if the sound was real when a knock cracked against her door. Mary looked at the window again, and the image of her daughter was gone.
Her door opened.
Joey stood there, worry aging his young face. “Are you okay, Mom? I heard you talking.” His eyes swept the room—seeing nothing, missing everything.
She blinked fast, forcing a smile. “I’m okay. Just talking to myself.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? It’s clear you’ve been crying.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Just exhausted. A lot has been going on. Go relax with your friends. I promise I’ll pull out of this funk.”
Joey hesitated. “I know you talk to my sister,” he said after a moment.
Mary froze.
“I don’t see anything wrong with it. Where I’m worried is when it feels like you’re arguing.”
“The dead don’t like to be ignored. When we do, they let us know.”
