“Yes, and just like those implosions, the cockroaches all made it out alive,” Jo said.
“For now,” Harriett said. “Look.” She pointed ahead of them, and both women immediately broke into a jog. Up ahead, Nessa had come to a stop.
“I think the girl’s down there,” Nessa said once they caught up with her. She was fixated on a nondescript section of scrubland. The voice had grown louder and more insistent, as though its owner knew they’d come for her at last.
Jo looked for a way into the thicket, where brambles and branches were woven together as tight as a net. “Anyone bring a machete?”
“Now, now. There’s no need for violence.” Harriett took the lead, slipping effortlessly into the foliage. Jo and Nessa followed, certain at first that she’d tamed nature with her magical powers. Instead, Harriett had spotted a slim trail that hadn’t been in regular use for some time. Inside the scrubland, the vegetation closed in all around them. Nessa glanced back and realized she could no longer see the road. The sound of waves slamming into the beach told her the ocean lay straight ahead. When she turned her eyes upward, she saw swatches of sky. Otherwise, there was nothing to guide them. They’d entered alien territory. It felt like the kind of secret world you might’ve stumbled upon when you were little. But this one was bad. At least one person had entered the thicket and never left.
Jo paused on the trail and wrinkled her nose with disgust. “Do you smell that?” she asked. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes,” Harriett confirmed without stopping. “It’s death.”
Nessa pulled the collar of her T-shirt up over her face, but the sickly sweet smell stayed in her nose. She’d been preparing herself for the sight of a body, but the stench took her by surprise. The girl down south hadn’t been dead long enough to reek. This poor thing had been waiting for quite some time. That morning, Nessa had woken up at the crack of dawn and prayed on her knees that the voice she’d heard was a hallucination—the product of a malfunctioning, middle-aged brain. The putrid odor of death had just stripped that last hope away.
While the other women forged ahead, something held Nessa back.
“Here.” It felt as if someone was whispering in her ear. Nessa turned her head and saw the girl standing just off the path, a few feet away.
Nessa let go of her T-shirt and the collar slipped down. The dead girl was a baby. Seventeen, maybe, eighteen at most. Her own daughters’ age. She was dressed for a party in a pale blue dress that clung to her thin body. A tiny quilted leather purse dangled from her shoulder. The girl’s black curls were styled in twists. Someone had spent nine long months making this beautiful creature. Whoever her parents were, she must have brought them great joy. And then some demon had killed her and dumped her here, wearing her prettiest dress, on the side of a desolate highway.
“Where are you, baby?” Nessa did her best not to cry. Her grandmother had warned her that her heart was too soft and she would have to work hard to stay strong. Nessa’s job was to find the girls so their families could mourn.
“Here,” the girl said without moving her lips. She pointed at a black plastic mass that lay slumped against a tree twenty feet off the trail. Nessa forged her way through the dense foliage. Poison ivy brushed her exposed ankles and branches snared her hair. The stench grew overpowering as Nessa got closer to the garbage bag.
The second most important part of the job was to bear witness to the wounds. You have to look at the truth, Nessa’s grandmother had told her, no matter how awful. The ghosts need someone to know what happened before they can move on. Nessa stared down at the black trash bag. She wasn’t supposed to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Some other mother’s baby was wrapped up in that plastic. It was only by the grace of God that it wasn’t one of Nessa’s own girls.
“Dear Lord, give me strength,” she whispered. She knew she’d have to open the bag, but there was nothing on earth she wanted to do less.
“You found her,” Harriett said. She and Jo had appeared at Nessa’s side.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” It hadn’t seemed real to Jo until that moment. “We have to call the police.”
“Not yet,” Nessa told them. “I need to see what was done to her.”
“Oh my God, why?” Jo cried. “So you can be completely fucked up for the rest of your life?” She had no idea what Nessa had seen during her years working at the hospital. She didn’t know yet what Nessa knew—that God needed some people to look at things the rest of the world couldn’t face.
“I need to see her so she can go and be at peace knowing there’s someone who will never forget.”
Nessa squatted down beside the trash bag. The red plastic cinch string had been tied in a fancy bow. She took several pictures before she used a twig to pull the bow loose and open the mouth of the bag. Nessa heard Jo vomiting behind her, but refused to turn away. Curled up inside was a rotting corpse. If not for the girl’s hair, Nessa wouldn’t have recognized her. Her smooth, lovely skin was now a mottled green, and there was no trace left of her pretty blue dress. Naked and broken, she’d been used up and thrown away.
Nessa rose and returned to the spot where she’d left the ghost standing on the side of the trail. She reached for the girl’s hand, and while she couldn’t quite grasp it, she could feel its presence. “You can go now,” she told the girl. “I promise you, I will find your family, and my friends and I will punish the person responsible.”
Back in South Carolina, the dead girl had vanished as soon as Nessa’s grandmother had spoken to her. This one remained. She wasn’t ready to leave.
“There,” she told Nessa. She lifted one of her long, bare arms and pointed down the trail toward the ocean.
“Baby, I told you, I found your body,” Nessa assured her. “You don’t need to be here anymore.”
“There,” the girl repeated, her arm still raised.
“Nessa? What’s going on?” Jo asked carefully. “Who are you speaking to?”
“I’m talking to the girl’s ghost,” Nessa told her.
“What?” Jo spun around. “Holy shit. You can see her? Where is she?”
Nessa gestured with her chin. It didn’t seem polite to point. “They’re supposed to leave when you find them, but this girl is hanging around. She wants us to go farther down the path. Should we?” She half hoped one of her friends would say no.
“Of course,” Harriett replied. “She brought us here. We have to find what she wants us to find.”
That was easy for Harriett to say, Nessa thought miserably as the three of them continued down the narrow path toward the ocean. When the branches drew back and daylight appeared, Nessa breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other girls in the thicket. Then she stepped out onto the beach and realized she, Harriett, and Jo were far from alone.
“Please tell me you see them,” Nessa begged her companions.