Dottie, however, was less subtle.
“Lord have mercy!” she exclaimed when I walked into the bookstore. “You look like something the cat dragged in.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly. “I’m not one for gossip in general, but I might make an exception if a certain eligible bachelor I know is why you look exhausted.”
My cheeks burned at Dottie’s insinuation. But I shook my head with a little laugh that sounded devoid of mirth. “Nothing so tantalizing, Dottie.”
Her expression softened into concern. “Oh, darlin’,” she murmured, taking my hand and leading me to one of the comfy couches in a nearby reading nook. “Come tell me all about it. We’ve got time before the store opens.”
I intended to tell her I was fine, but the words started spilling out before I could stop them. And I told her about all if it—the hauntings, the premonitions, the dreams, the fear of leaving, the fear of staying, the fear of losing the fragile sense of safety and security Henry and I had finally found.
“And what about Whit?” Dottie asked gently.
“What about him?” I replied, trying to sound casual.
She smiled knowingly. “I see the look in your eyes when you say his name. You’re proper smitten.”
“It’s that obvious?” I groaned. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Dottie. I really didn’t!”
“Of course, you didn’t,” she said, giving my knee a comforting pat. “It’s just the way of things. No accounting for what the heart wants, Zellie. But it’smostimportant to listen to yoursoul—it knows the way. What does your soul whisper to you when he’s nearby, accidentally brushes your hand, kisses you until you can’t breathe, like you’re the only woman in the world who matters?”
Shocked by Dottie’s directness, heat crept up my neck. “It tells me I love him,” I whispered. “I feel like I have forever, like I was just waiting to find him.”
She smiled. “There now.That’sthe truth. So, what are you going to do about it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. My head’s telling me to be careful, that I’m just bound for heartbreak.”
She sighed wistfully. “Oh, my girl. The heart can be fooled as easily as the mind. But don’t you think it’s time you had a little happiness? It’s not living if you shutyourself off from what you feel—the good and the bad. Open yourself up to the possibilities of what couldbeinstead of dwelling on what hasbeen.”
“What about the hauntings?” I asked. “These women? What do they want from me?”
She exhaled, the sound heavy with sorrow, perhaps reliving old wounds of her own. “There are those who die without ever being heard, Zellie. These women were silenced then, and scream in silence now. They need a voice. Or they will never know peace. You know what it feels like to be denied a voice in your fate, darlin’. Don’t deny these poor souls theirs.”
Chapter seventeen
Ididn’t expect her to call again. But there was no mistaking Vivian’s raspy voice cutting through the static on the line.
“What do you want, Vivian?” I asked, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I tried to shift ground beef from the skillet to the pot of sauce that was bubbling over, leaving splatters across the stovetop.
“Darkness,” she said, fear threading her voice. “There’s only darkness.”
Here we go…
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, not bothering to hold back the sarcasm. “How are you? So good to hear from you, as always.”
Whatever she said next broke apart into garbled noise. Thinking of what had happened the last time she called, I shuddered and glanced over my shoulder toward the kitchen doorway, half expecting something monstrous to come charging through, ready to rip me apart and consume my soul.
“Where are you?” I asked, frustrated with the horrible connection. If she was going to call, I might as well hear what imaginary sins she thought I’d committed.
“Listen!”
That one word came through, urgent and clear.
I heaved a sigh. “Iamlistening,” I told her. “I’vealwayslistened to everything you ever said, even when I shouldn’t have. Do you have any idea what your constant hatefulness did to me, Vivian? What your inability to get your shit together cost me?”
A crackle of static was the only response. Of course, she had nothing to say. And why would she? She’d never cared about what harm she inflicted. Why start now?
I listened for a few more seconds, but nothing came. “Okay, great. Good talk. Thanks for calling.” I hung up and tossed the phone aside just as the pot of boiling spaghetti foamed over, the water hissing angrily as it hit the burner.
“Shit!”
