She glances at me briefly, and then her large brown eyes zero in on Thatcher, apparently her target all along. Her face is like a porcelain doll’s—perfect rosebud lips and high cheekbones. The word lovely comes to mind. Those brown eyes look like they have glowing embers inside them—they flicker and burn. This girl, though obviously a ghost, looks alive—not like Ella or the others with their serene expressions.
“You two are not supposed to be here,” Thatcher insists.
“You’re not in charge of where we go,” says Leo.
“Don’t fight, boys,” says the girl, smiling now. She fastens her gaze on me. “Callie, welcome to the other side. How’s Thatcher treating you so far?”
“He’s been great,” I say, confused about who these two are and why animosity is thick in the air between Thatcher and Leo.
“Really?” she asks, flashing an even bigger grin. “He doesn’t like that many ghosts, doesn’t warm up to them, so take it as a compliment.”
I can’t tell if she’s taking a jab at Thatcher or trying to put me at ease.
“Reena, please,” says Thatcher, and I hear a twinge of hurt in his tone. A definite jab.
“Oh, Thatcher.” Her voice lilts affectionately. “It’s okay to make a new friend.”
Leo lets out a loud laugh, and it sounds kind of mean. I move forward, feeling unexpectedly defensive for Thatcher.
“So attached already?” asks the girl, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t worry, Callie—Leo and Thatcher are old friends.” She smiles then, sincerely, and I’m drawn in to the light around her.
I smile back before I can help myself.
“I’m Reena,” she says.
“Nice to meet you.” My manners kick in automatically.
“You grew up in Charleston, too?” she asks.
“Born and raised, for a few generations now.”
“Cool,” she says. “I’m a transplant. Army brat.”
“Oh, my dad’s in the Navy,” I say. “Well, he was. He teaches at the Citadel now.”
“Awesome,” says Reena. “My younger brother goes there.”
“You have a younger brother in college?” She doesn’t look older than me.
“Yeah,” she answers, smiling. “Weird, huh? If I were alive, I’d be, like . . . twenty-eight!”
She and Leo break up laughing. “So old!” he shouts.
I back up a step, realizing that I’m talking to people who have been dead for, like . . . ten years? Will I be here that long? Thatcher said it was best to move on quickly—so why haven’t Reena and Leo moved on? Why don’t they glow? Why don’t they look like Ella?
Reena locks her eyes onto my face and studies it so intently that I feel a little awkward.
“Have I got a zit on my nose or something?” I ask.
She grins, clearly not offended by my snarkiness. “You’re funny. No, I can’t figure out what it is, but you’re not like the others.”
“Her energy is off the charts,” Leo says.
“Yeah, I can feel it, but it’s more than that.”
“We’re leaving now,” Thatcher says. “You should do the same.”
“Has she been to her spot?” asks Reena, directing her question at Thatcher, stopping him in midstride.
“My what?” I ask.
“Let it go, Reena,” says Thatcher, and it’s more of an order than a suggestion.
I wonder what it refers to.
“Thatcher’s a little protective of his charges,” says Reena, still scrutinizing me as though I’m a sudoku puzzle that she can’t quite complete.
“Was he your Guide?” I’m eager to learn more about this girl—and in the process maybe find out more about Thatcher. He obviously carries some weight around here.
“Something like that,” she says.
“Are you a Guide?” For some reason, my question makes Reena and Leo break up in laughter.
“No, we both completed our haunting,” says Reena.
Leo grins. “We avoided Solus another way.”
And the way he says it, it sounds like Soulless.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Come on, Callie,” Thatcher says, indicating the doorway. “No good will come of staying here.”
“What’s the rush?” Leo asks. “Afraid she’ll learn the truth?”
“There are ways to extend your stay in the Prism, Callie,” Reena cuts in quickly before Thatcher can respond to Leo’s challenge. “Don’t let Thatcher convince you that you can’t have more time on Earth.”
More time on Earth.
“Yeah,” says Leo. “Not everyone wants to move on.”
“I thought Solus was like Heaven,” I say, looking to Thatcher.
“It is,” says Thatcher. “There’s an order to things, and there are rules that some people refuse to accept.”
He glares pointedly at Reena, and it strikes me that she and I might have some things in common.
“You used to be more exciting when you didn’t mind living outside the lines,” says Reena. Then she turns to me. “It’s no fun to follow the rules.” She grins. “When you get bored of his restrictions, come find me.”
Thatcher clenches his jaw as he stares hard at Reena.
“Time to go,” he says through tight lips.
“We were just leaving.” Leo smiles, and the flash of his big white teeth is almost blinding. He moves forward and fake-jabs at Thatcher, who flinches a little. Leo’s laugh echoes eerily up to the rafters.
He motions for Reena to follow him, and they turn to walk out of the barn. With his back to me, I see that Leo’s moon tattoo is dark and jagged, not like the smooth glowing green crescent I’ve seen on the other ghosts. I look quickly at Reena, but her hair is covering her neck. She gives us a small wave before they both exit through the large wooden double doors.
I expected them to create a portal, but they just walked into the night like normal living people.
When I’m sure they’re gone, I ask, “Who were they? How do they know who I am?”
“Forget them,” says Thatcher, avoiding my questions. “They just want to cause trouble.”
“Why did they look more like living people? They were in regular clothes, without this—”
“We’re all in regular clothes.” Thatcher’s voice is clipped, im-patient. His eyes look more gray than blue now. “The shimmering aura means you’re haunting, that you’re on the path to Solus.”
“If they finished their haunting, why are they still here?” I ask.
“They’ve broken the rules,” he says. “They can’t move on from the Prism because of their obsession with being on Earth.”
“We can stay in the Prism?”
“Not indefinitely,” he says, putting his hand on his forehead like his brain hurts. “The Prism is just a gateway to Solus, where we’re all meant to be.”
His skin is growing pale. It almost looks like he’s fading away.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“My energy is low,” he says. “Leo’s aggression drained me. We have to get . . .” His voice trails away like he no longer has the strength to push out the words.
I don’t want to leave Earth, not now, but he appears sick and exhausted. . . . I hesitate for a moment, but when he creates the portal, he is barely able to lift his arm in order to make it large enough, and his weakness scares me a little. I stop arguing. I don’t know how else to help him. I’m assuming everything I learned in the first-aid class I took is pretty useless here.
We step into the portal and are thrust through a speeding tunnel; I’ve already tuned out the sensation of movement that comes with this method of transportation. My mind is churning—I’m wondering how much time I can spend with my father, with Nick, with Carson, before I have to move on. Maybe I can stay with them on Earth. I’m thinking about Reena, hoping I’ll see her again. She said something that resonated with me: It’s no fun to follow the rules.