Page 85 of Living with Death

I lift a brow. “And?”

“And he died.” She puts her hands up, wiggling her fingers. “Now he roams aisle five, forever stuck. Because to him, the windows are still nailed, and the doors are still bolted on the outside.”

I smirk. “And when did you find this out?”

Her eyes lowered. “In the two days we weren’t talking. I’ve been dying to tell you,” she admits.

I give her a smile that saysI’m sorry.

Sam nods. “His name was Richard. Hey, I have a Ouija board at home. Let’s return to the store, sit on aisle five, and see if he’ll talk to us.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not? Maybe we can finally get some answers.” She waggles her brow.

“You want to break into the store?”

“Robbie gave me a key. He needed someone to open the store because his wife has had a lot of doctor’s appointments lately. And we both know the alarm code.”

I bite my inner cheek, looking at her skeptically. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but why isn’t it? I’m living my life now, doing things I wouldn’t normally do, even though my life wasn’t in danger of ending. I spent two days in a fog, roaming my own house, thinking over what Azrael said, what my mother said, and mourning Cook—wanting so badly to speak to him about the problems in my life. What would he say about my mother? Did he know what she did?

I almost feel like I can hear him.

“Was what she did right? No, but your mom is human, just like the rest of us, and human instinct is to survive no matter what we’re trying to survive. She did what she felt she had to at the time. We can’t fault someone for their wrongs. Not when we’ve all done things that might not have been the right choice for some. All you can do is love her, even when that’s hard. Because at the end of the day, she’s still your mom. Ain’t nothing changing that.”

I frown into the darkness of the car, my eyes going to the radio. Even from the other side, he’s right. I need to speak to her. Tomorrow I will, but tonight I’m going to have a little more fun with my only friend.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Sam’s trailer is fabulous. She’s done an incredible job with it. I stand in the living room, my eyes roaming the small space. A dark velvet yellow couch with cream throw pillows. A low coffee table, the wood light, and magazines scattered over the top neatly. A velvet navy high-back chair with a throw blanket mirroring the couch. She hung her curtains higher than her windows to make them appear more prominent. The fabric is thick and beautiful. Beads hang at the start of the hallway, and her kitchen has all blue appliances.

“Your place is adorable.”

“Thanks,” she calls from down the hall. “I might live in a tin can, but I’m not going to have tin can furniture.”

I laugh as she walks from the back with the board. “You ready?”

“Yep.”

The drive back to Grab & Go is quick. We stand at the store's door, the fluorescent lights painting us in its blue-toned glow. Sam smiles at me. “Robbie might get a little mad at this.”

“Too late to worry about Robbie now.”

She laughs. “You’re right.” She opens the door. The alarm begins beeping, and I walk to the office and put in the code. Sam comes from the alcohol aisle holding a bottle of wine. The Walking Dead, Blood Red.

“Suitable since we’re talking to the dead, don’t ya think?”

I laugh, remembering Leigh asked me if I’d tried that kind. “I’ll leave some money at my register to pay for it tomorrow.” I wink. I snatch some candles from the shelf and a lighter.

Sam corks the wine with a giggle, downing a mouth full. We walk to aisle five, and both sit, crossing our legs. Sam removes the board from the box as I light the candles before taking a sip from the bottle.

Sam straightens her back after she places the planchette on the board. Chills race down the backs of my arms, and I swallow, knowing who’s here. I feel him watching me from the shadows.

I look at Sam. “You ready?” she asks, mischief in her eyes.

I nod, placing my hand on the planchette with her.

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