I cowered in the dark of the Emorys' yard for a few minutes in the snow, listening carefully to make sure there weren't any more lights switching on inside or footsteps moving down the hallway toward Trey's room. It was an awful sensation, being the only one out in the snow at night. It had never before crossed my mind that I might not be able to get my window open from the outside, and I remained stationary behind the Emorys' for a moment, imagining how horrible it would be if, for some reason, I had to let myself back into my house through the front door using my keys. Maude would surely wake up and bark her head off, and my mother would definitely cry if she knew I had sneaked out. It didn't feel good at all, sneaking around behind my mom's back. While Candace always used to roll her eyes about her mom and tell her lies to spend time with Isaac when she was still alive, I had a good relationship with my mom and I felt a responsibility to protect her from pain. She'd already suffered enough, losing Jennie. She really didn't need the complication of a juvenile delinquent for a daughter.
Finally working up the courage to walk across the stretch of snow connecting the Emorys' front yard to my own, I returned to my window and found that it opened noiselessly with ease. Back in my room, I brushed the snow from my shoulders out the window before lowering the screen, and hung my winter coat on a hanger in the back of my closet. After the strange encounter with the ghost claiming to be Olivia and then Jennie, I was a bit worried that I was in store for some significant haunting that night. I didn't even bother changing into pajamas for fear I'd be throwing back the covers and running out into the living room at some point for safety. Instead, I climbed beneath my blankets in my black skinny jeans and sweatshirt, trying my best to savor my second night at home. My bed smelled like heaven, just as it had every night I'd slept in it since I was a little girl, like fragrant dryer sheets and puppy fur. Mom had told me on the phone while I was away at Dearborn that Maude liked to sleep on my bed just like Moxie used to, and the night she told me that, I cried myself to sleep.
There was so much to think about, but exhaustion made my temples throb with pain. Eight years had passed since Jennie's death and before that fall it had never, ever occurred to me that I'd have a chance to communicate with her again. In a roundabout, regrettable way, I had Violet to thank for the few words I'd been able to exchange with my sister earlier that night. She'd unknowingly given me the most joyful, generous gift anyone could possibly give me: a chance to resolve my feelings about how Jennie had died in the fire and I had, somehow, made it out to the lawn. Trey had told me that my survival was entirely because of our old dog, Moxie, who had stirred me away and nudged me outside. I had no memory of why I had gotten out of bed the night of the fire and followed the dog outside. I remembered stifling smoke, choking on soot, unbearable heat so intense that I may have screamed nonstop until I was released out onto the cool lawn. But the smoke detector in our house had failed, the fire department later informed us after inspecting the ashes where our house once stood. Something else had awakened me that night, and hadn't awakened my sister.
But I couldn't dwell on Jennie. Even though my brain longed for sleep, I was tormented by the confusing things Trey had just told me outside. How could the identity of his biological father have had anything to do with his unexplained drive to Green Bay the day Olivia died? She had died on the day of the Homecoming game against Kenosha High School, an away game chosen only to meet the schedule of the hotel willing to host our school dance. I had run into Trey in the parking lot at our own high school after classes, when I had been waiting for Pete and Candace to pick me up for the long drive. I'd thought about that afternoon a million times since Olivia's funeral, and had always thought Trey had been acting a little strangely that day when I'd seen him. It was shortly before he and I had rekindled our childhood friendship and fallen in love, and he had seemed put off that I was driving to Kenosha with the popular kids to sit in the stands and cheer. Violet had been curiously absent from our group of friends that afternoon, even though she had been invited to drive to Kenosha with us. Up until game day, we had all assumed she'd ride the bus to Kenosha with Mischa and the cheerleading team, but then at the last second she told us she'd be going to Ortonville instead to watch a guy she had met from her church play football with his own school team.
YOU ARE READING
Light as a Feather, Cold as Marble
ParanormalThis is the sequel to Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, the first book in the Weeping Willow High School series.