“I still think about the day you wore that black dress to my school, just to meet with my teacher, because you wanted me to be proud of you rather than embarrassed. I was proud, I so was. And I’d swear the entire world slowed down and God played a little background music for your entrance. Even blew the wind just right, so your hair would dance around your shoulders. Mouths dropped that day, and every girl who saw you wanted to be you.”
There at the end, my words jumbled up and clogged my throat. A warm tear slid down my cheek. I inhaled deeply—held it…held—then slowly exhaled. Gradually I turned to the left, where the last grave rested.
Emmaline Lily Bell. Beloved daughter and sister.
My chin trembled uncontrollably, and the tears began to rain in earnest. Her headstone wasn’t as big as my parents’, but it, too, was made of that silver stone. They’d even etched her likeness into the center.
“Since your death, I’ve seen you on two separate occasions,” I whispered. “Outside Nana and Pop’s, and then again outside my new friend Reeve’s. The first time, you warned me to go inside. The second, you flickered in and out and said the same. Was that…really you?”
Why not? There was a whole world out there I’d known nothing about.
In the distance, a cricket chirped. Next a locust sang. Leaves rattled from shaking limbs. A beautiful chorus, but no sign of Emma. Disappointment became a clanging bell in my ears.
I bowed my head, crying silently. I’d hoped… Oh, well. “I am so sorry I failed to protect you, Em. I love you so much, and you will always be my favorite person in the entire world. I didn’t tell you that enough. You made everyone around you happier, and you deserved to have slumber parties every night of your life. And when you were older, I would have taught you how to drive. Hopefully I’d be skilled by then,” I added with a soft, watery laugh. “You would have gone on dates and I would have tailed you, making sure the boy behaved.”
“Aww. That’s so sweet.”
My head snapped up. A smiling Emma sat on top of her own headstone, her legs crossed and swinging, ballet slippers dangling from her feet. Her hair was in pigtails, those golden eyes sparkling with mischief I remembered so fondly.
“Sorry I kept quiet before,” she said, “but I really wanted to hear your speech.”
“I—I—”
“Let me help you out. You…you…are so glad I’m here and are wondering if this is really happening. Well, it is! Your prayers have been answered.”
“I—”
“Am so lucky, I know.”
Hope flooded me, the only light in a terrible darkness. “You’re a…ghost?”
She fluffed her hair. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. Besides, angel is probably a better description, though that’s not right, either. But it fits, don’t you think?”
That was such an Emma answer, and one I couldn’t have fabricated. She was here. She was real. “Why haven’t you shown yourself more often? Are Mom and Dad like you?”
She lost the smile, the mischief. “I’m a witness and I don’t have much time. Alice, you need to listen to me, okay?”
Witness? “Always.” I reached for her hand to comfort her, but my fingers misted through her, the cold stone suddenly pressed against my skin. “I wish I could touch you.”
“And one day you will. Now listen. There’s good and there’s evil, and there’s no middle ground, no matter what anyone thinks. What you’re doing is dangerous and will not end well—which sucks, because the end is near!”
“How do you—”
“Shh. Emma’s talking. I’ve tried to warn you to stay inside. I remembered the rabbit cloud you showed me that night and I’ve shaped him every time I’ve known the monsters were coming for you, but lately you have been ignoring him and going out.”
“That was you?”
“Yes. A nice little skill I picked up,” she said, again fluffing her hair. “Anyway, I want you safe, Alice. I love you.”
“As much as I love you,” I whispered.
“I don’t want you to fight the zombies. I want you to stay away from them.”
“Em—”
“No. Listen to me.” She stilled, sunlight hitting her, making her flicker. “If you do, you’ll get hurt. More than you realize.”
“If I die fighting the zombies, I die.” I’d already decided this was a cause worth anything and everything, and I wouldn’t change my mind.
She shook her head, her pigtails slapping against her cheeks. “I’m not talking about death. I’m talking about hurting.”
“I can deal with pain.” As I’d already proved.
“You don’t understand,” she cried. She hopped from the stone, her pink tutu so close I had only to lift my hand to trace my fingers along the edge. So I did it. I lifted my hand. Once again my fingers slipped through the air, leaving me with a spark of sadness.
Her image did that flickering thing, as if she were mist thinning in the breeze. “The zombies…they want you and they’ll do anything to have you.”
“Why?” I asked. “And how do you know that?”
Her features contorted with the strength of her upset. “Alice, please. It’s almost too late. You’re running out of time. Please. They’re hunting you, and I don’t want them to have you.”
“You’re talking about them as if they’re smart, organized. Focused.” As if you know them.