I reach for my phone. There’s no reception in here, but I’ve been able to talk to Mom a few times by pacing the campus, holding the phone out in front of me until the bars in the upper right-hand corner go from zero to something, anything higher. I make my way out of the bedroom and to the stairs, almost tumbling down them altogether. I tighten my grip, suddenly terrified I might drop my phone, that it might shatter into a thousand pieces and my only link to the outside world would be broken.
Not that it’s much of a link because there’s no signal on the first floor either. I open the door and head outside. Dawn can’t be too far away; the tiniest pricks of sunlight are edging their way up into the sky. I pace back and forth, desperate for cell service.
I don’t want to take a single step toward the building where I know Aidan is tormenting spirits, so I head around to the back of the house.
Still no signal. I keep walking, into the jungle beyond the garden. I must be about fifty yards from the house, halfway up the hill with the playground on top by the time I’m finally able to make a call.
Ring. Ring. Ring. There’s no answer. Maybe he’s still sleeping. I glance at the clock on my phone. Of course he’s still sleeping. It’s four in the morning back home. Maybe my call woke him up. But maybe once he saw who the call was coming from, he hit ignore. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to the girl who gets sick when she touches him.
But I need to talk to him! I need him to whip out his protector super-sleuth skills so we can find some answers. But then . . . am I just using him? What is he getting out of this friendship? Being a protector suddenly seems ridiculously unfair.
After the fifth ring, his voicemail picks up. How can I ask him for help when I’ve hurt him? I still haven’t found an answer when the telltale beep lets me know that it’s too late to hang up—his voicemail has already started recording.
“Um, hi,” I say. “It’s me. I mean, it’s Sunshine. I was just calling because—” Because why? Because I’m confused and alone and homesick? “Because there’s some really weird stuff going on down here. In Mexico. That’s where I am now. And I thought you might be able to . . . help. If you want to. You don’t have to, you know, just because you’re my protector. It’s just that”—I take a deep breath, surprised to feel a lump rising in my throat—“Aidan thinks that luiseach are going extinct. He’s doing these . . . experiments. I don’t understand any of it. And I’m not getting any better at handling multiple spirits. It’s all just a big”—I bite my lip, searching for the right word to describe just how bad it is—“a big clustercuss, you know? I mean, I know you don’t know, because we haven’t talked in a while.” The words I’ve been thinking for so long tumble out of my mouth before I can stop myself: “I wish you were here because—”
Beep. Nolan’s voicemail cuts me off. Not that I knew exactly what I was going to say after because anyhow. A bird coos in the trees above me, and I slap at the mosquitoes that are threatening to eat me alive. Still, I don’t want to leave the forest yet. I want to take advantage of my link to the outside world while I’m standing in the one place in Llevar la Luz with a decent cell phone signal.
So I call my mom. Just hearing her say Hello makes me feel better. When Nolan didn’t pick up, it felt like my life back home was even farther out of my reach than it already was.
I can hear the beep of machines in the background, and I know she’s at the hospital, working the overnight shift. I close my eyes and imagine her walking down the brightly lit halls of the neonatal unit, her pink pastel-colored scrubs bringing out the red in her hair.
“Sunshine!” Mom exclaims when she hears my voice. “I haven’t talked to you in days.”
“Sorry,” I answer. “The service here sucks. And”—I pause, biting my lip—“I’ve been busy.”
“I guess that means you’re learning a lot.” She’s trying to sound casual and nonchalant, but I can detect the edge in her voice. She doesn’t want to hear that I still can’t manage even just two spirits on my own, let alone that I was face to face with a terrifying demon only hours ago. And no matter how much I want to tell her, no matter how much I want to sink to the ground and cry until she swears to rescue me from this terrible place, I can’t do that to her. I can’t make her even more worried than she already is.
“I have learned a lot,” I answer, hoping Mom can’t recognize the false brightness in my voice the way I did in hers. “Aidan is really nice.” That’s sort of true. I mean, he may be imprisoning spirits, but he also carried me across the hall from his dastardly lab and held me until I felt better.
“I’m so glad to hear it.” Mom sounds so relieved that it even makes me feel calmer.
“I miss you, though.” The lump that appeared when I called Nolan rises even higher in my throat.
“I miss you too, baby,” Mom answers. “So much.”
“Up to the moon and back?” I ask, an old game of ours.
“No,” Mom says. “Moon’s too close. I miss you to Mars and back.”
“I miss you to the sun and back.”
I hear her name being called from somewhere on the other end of the line.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’ve got to go.”