If Opal weren’t already dead, I would have killed her.

She could have said something—anything at all!—to convince my grandmother that I was in contact with the other side. Instead, she slammed an “Out to Lunch” sign on our communication channel. I begged and pleaded with her, yet nothing worked.

So I tried to summon a spirit.

I visualized a protective white light shielding me like armor against any dark spirits. Most spirits were cool and eager to find someone who could understand them, maybe pass on a message to a loved one. But you never knew when a stinker would butt in.

Nona stood by with a patient, sympathetic expression while I concentrated hard. “Is anyone there?” I mentally called out.

Nothing.

“Can you hear me? I just want to talk.”

But apparently no one wanted to talk with me. And I blamed Opal.

“You’re doing this to get back at me for telling you to go away,” I silently accused. “Go ahead. Play your games. I can do this on my own.”

Nona gave me a pitiful glance, and that fueled my determination to prove myself. I snapped my fingers and gestured to the phone. “Watch this. I’ll predict who’s calling. Ask anyone to call but don’t tell me who, and I’ll guess who it is before the phone is answered.”

“Aren’t you taking this a bit too far?” she asked, amused.

“Not until you believe me.”

“It’s not that important. You’re beautiful, healthy, and smart. You’re wonderful without any extra powers.”

“Call someone.” I pointed to the phone.

She sighed, but did as I asked. She went into another room to call someone, careful to shut the door so I wouldn’t overhear. And when the phone finally rang a few minutes later, I played the “Who’s Calling” game I’d enjoyed since I was a child.

“It’s a woman.” I forced an image into my head. “She’s blonde—in her thirties and she is … looking for romance.”

I grabbed the receiver on the third ring—and nearly died when I recognized the voice on the other end. Gerby Weatherby was a balding, eighty-something, poker-playing pal of Nona’s.

“The only romance he’s ever after is the cozy union of a pair of aces,” Nona said with a laugh as she thanked Gerby and hung up.

“But I was so sure … ” My shoulders sagged. “How could I be wrong?”

“It’s okay, honey.” Nona hugged me, her hands warm from being near the stove.

“No. It’s not.” I looked around the room, seeing, hearing, feeling nothing.

Despite the comfort of Nona’s arms, I’d never felt so alone.

* * *

How many times had I wished to be normal? No voices, ghosts, angels, or bossy spirit guides. Be careful what you wish for.

When the phone rang later, I didn’t even try to guess who was calling. But I probably could have.

“You sound down,” Josh said sympathetically.

“Just tired.” I curled up with the phone on the living room couch.

“So go to bed early and dream of me.”

“Always.” I smiled.

We didn’t really talk about anything in particular. Mostly, I enjoyed hearing his voice. He could read the phone book and make it sound interesting. We ended with plans to go out to the hospital on Saturday morning so I could watch Josh do magic for the kids.

When I hung up, I felt even more alone. I missed Josh already, but it went deeper than that. The down mood lingered throughout dinner. I didn’t say much while Nona told me her good news about matchmaking Mr. Picky with a smart, easy-going Gemini woman. I half listened, toying with my food. There was an ache inside, as if I’d lost my best friend. And I caught myself several times tuning Nona out and straining to hear beyond ordinary sounds—hoping for a familiar bossy voice.

Before I went to bed that night, I tried to cheer myself by plugging in the goofy green frog nightlight Dad had found for me in Mexico. It had a crooked froggy grin and buggy, crossed eyes fixed on a fly perched on its nose. In a cozy glow of green, I climbed underneath cool covers and fell asleep to sweet thoughts of Josh.

Only my dreams took a dark turn and fluttered into a swarm of dragonflies—giant evil-eyed creatures. Blood and wings and danger. A monstrous dragon had Danielle in its claws, flying high beyond sky and stars. Then the claws opened and Danielle fell. She screamed, over and over, and I tried to catch her. But my arms wouldn’t move, bound together, helpless.

I awoke to find the twisted covers binding my arms like ropes.

Struggling to untangle myself, I pushed the covers on the floor and waited for my heart to slow. I glanced around my room, then looked again because something had changed. My nightlight! I realized with a jolt. The cross-eyed frog had been replaced with an angel-winged nightlight.

“How did that—Opal! You did this!”

Closing my eyes, I looked for my spirit guide. I never actually saw all of her—just fuzzy bits and pieces; it was a sense of her presence that I wanted. Like a bat flying blindly at night by internal sonar.

“Opal, did you switch my nightlight?”

I never did like frogs, her voice came through strong and sassy. Slimy creatures, caused plagues back in my day.

“You’re here!” I rejoiced. “I couldn’t feel you. I thought you were gone.”

I never left.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

There wasn’t anything of importance to say.

“That never stopped you before. And now Nona doesn’t believe me.”

It’s not my place to interfere.

“You’ve been interfering my whole life. Why stop now?”

You have an odd way of showing gratitude. Let me remind you that I am here as your guide, not as your servant.

“What about being my friend? I needed you earlier and you let me down. I started to doubt myself—thought maybe I had lost my gift, lost you.”

You’ve lost nothing; in fact, you will gain a new gift soon—if you are wise enough to recognize good fortune.

“Nothing’s been good lately. Thanks to you, Nona thinks I’m delusional, and my attempt at helping someone could end up getting me in big trouble.”

True blessings appear in many forms and wisdom is in the journey. My dear child, you vex me to no end. You have much to learn.

A sigh and then she was gone.

Walking over to my wall, I plugged the green frog nightlight back into the socket. Then I took the angel nightlight to bed with me, hugging it against my chest.

My best friend hadn’t deserted me.

Opal was back.