Haunting Melody St. Claire

Chapter Six

Melody's eyes glazed over the dates. She jerked away from his touch. "Is this a sick joke?"

She dragged her gaze from the words to Travis' face. Pain twisted his features, and agony burned between them. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" She shoved her fists against his chest. "I'm not dead."

"What happened the night of the fire, Melody?"

She gripped her grandmother's necklace. "I didn't make it there in time. The fire was already going by the time I—"

"No." The word cut her off. Anger tightened his expression. "You were there when it started. Woke on the couch, remember?"

She sliced her hand in the air. He was lying. "Those are nightmares, not reality." Panic sent her pulse racing.

"What's reality, Melody?" He stepped forward and she moved away. Pain echoed from him. "Which makes more sense? You're suddenly a medium to the spirit world, or that you are one yourself?"

"But Kassa—"

"Kassa is special." His expression softened. "She's talked with the dead since her first words."

Her world tilted and her knees buckled. "I'm not dead."

Travis gripped her biceps, jerking her attention from the ground to his face. "When was the last time you ate anything?"

She tried to shrug him off. "I don't know. I mean, I'm just not hungry."

He gripped her tighter, shaking her a bit. "When was the last time you went to work?"

Why was he doing this to her? "I'm a teacher. Summer vacation—"

"Summer ended months ago. You know I'm telling you the truth."

She looked around as though seeing the world for the first time. Leaves had long since fallen from the branches. She'd noticed the birds' songs missing. The dried leaves on the way to the cemetery. Why hadn't she... "This is impossible. I would know if I was dead."

"What year is it, Melody?"

"It's 2011." She glared at him.

"It's 2013." He crossed his arms.

Something ripped open in her heart. "No way in hell." She shoved his chest. "You're lying."

"I've watched you, talked to you. Been with you for two years."

"I would remember."

"Would you? Think. You were a tortured spirit, raging through the burned ruins of your home. I found you there."

"You're lying to me." Her voice was raw with pain. She gripped her hair at the temples.

"How did you die?"

"Stop it. Please?"

He shook her again and grabbed her hands, lifting them up between them. "Where are the scars from the fire? Think, Melody. Remember."

She looked down at her arms and saw smooth skin free of burns.

Her memories cracked open and pain sliced through her. The fire. Their screams. Sobs racked her body.

"I was on the couch." She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to piece it together. "Smoke everywhere. My mother screamed. Everything burned." She pressed a palm against her throat. "My lungs hurt, and..." She choked on another sob. "I remember."

"After the fire. After you died." His voice was softer, easier. "What do you remember?"

She clenched a fist to her stomach. Pain ravaged her mind and heart. "I just remember the fire."