80

“I said, what did you do?”

Tommie stood in the corner, arms folded across her chest. Her face looked sorta squished.

“Are you talking to me?” she said. Who knew a ghost could look smirky? I’m here to tell ya, they can.

“I told you to tell him something. You didn’t. So I went to visit the baby.”

I was to her in a moment. Across the wooden floor to the corner where the pink bled through the aqua-colored wall.

“You,” I said. I raised a finger like I might poke her in the chest. But she was a ghost. And sure, I could feel her breath and talk to her and all that, but would my finger go through her or not? I didn’t want to find out. “You stay away from my sister.”

“She’s my sister too,” Tommie said. Her eyebrows went up and she tilted her head at me. “And what will you do if I don’t stay away? Tell on me?” She suddenly looked like a ghost all right. Scary. Her eyebrows lowered into a scowl. Her eyes grew dark. “Kill me?” Her skin turned more pale, wispy, gray.

Okay, maybe she didn’t look much different from a girl who had died and now stood in my bedroom, but jeez! Isn’t that ghosty enough?

I swallowed. Clenched my hands into fists. Heard the blood in my ears. “You have no idea who you are dealing with.”

“Oh? And who is that?”

We stood toe to toe.

“I am a Messenger,” I said. “And I have powers.”

Outside lightning cracked, lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled and the house shook.

“Seeing the dead is a power?” She said it like what I said was a joke.

It was a joke. What did I know about seeing the dead? Still, I tried. “You talking to anyone else?”

Lightning flashed again. Then rain pounded the roof like coins from heaven.

“Lots of people can see them, Evie. The Messengers don’t have a corner on the market.”

Others? Who cared about others? I cared about us. About my family.

“If you hurt my sister . . .”

There was another crash of thunder. Then, like it started, the rain stopped.

“Relax,” Tommie said. It seemed the air slipped from her body and she deflated. “I’m no demon. Babies can see me and . . . and . . . and they love me. When I was at the mall waiting for you to get back from wherever you and Justin went, I went around entertaining the masses. You took awhile, you know?”

Embarrassment tried to color my cheeks, but I refused to let it.

“Sorry,” I said. “And the baby thing?”

I thought of my sister, all rosy and soft and sweet-­smelling, having to sleep alone in her room. With a ghost about, no less.

Tommie slid over to where I was. “And nothing. Babies adore ghosts. Did she stare in the air and coo when she was younger?”

I nodded.

“Ghosts.” Tommie looked off across the room. In the direction of Buddy’s house. Her voice came out low. “I wanted babies of my own,” she said. “With Justin.” Then she looked at me.

I swallowed again.

A guilty swallow.

“Your sister cried because I left the room. Not because of anything else. I’m not evil. I don’t even run with anyone evil. If I were to run at all.”

“Oh,” I said. Because what else do you say to a ghost who has a broken heart and is still in love with the guy you like?