Page 100 of Zero Chance

Squinting in question, I watched it approach and checked out the cover.

It was Anne Frank’s diary.

Looking up, I shook my head.“Wha?—?”

The diary thumped onto the table, abandoned as if being discarded.A minute later, another book arrived.

“Follow Me,” I murmured, reading the title of this one aloud, only to scowl in confusion.

The book shifted to my hand and bumped my fingers as if prodding them to do something.“I don’t…” I grabbed hold of the hardback, shaking my head and still bewildered.But it jerked away and almost yanked me out of my chair.

Thinking my ghost mother wanted it back, I let go, and the volume promptly fell to the floor.

I glanced down at it, only to watch it lift off the carpet a second later and return to my hand, bumping against my fingers encouragingly.I took hold of the book once more, and it shifted away, only to pause as if waiting for me to follow.

“Oh!”I shot out of my chair.“You want me to follow where you lead.”

The book moved up and down as if nodding its head.

I grinned.“Okay.Cool.Lead the way, Mom.”

So the book took off, zooming ahead of me; I almost had to jog to keep up with it as Mom led me down the stairs.

“Hey, slower,” I hissed before smiling tightly as some dude at a nearby table who glanced up to give me a strange look because I was practically sprinting down the steps.

Thankfully, the book slowed its pace.“Good.Perfect,” I said under my breath.

At the base of the stairs, we turned left and approached the checkout station.

My brow furrowed.Only Waverly was working behind the desk, and when I realized we were headed toward her, I tried to resist, not sure what my mother wanted.Was she trying to get me to check the book out so we could leave the library with it?

Thinking that must be it, I stopped holding back and continued ahead.

Waverly glanced up when I approached, and her brow knitted in question.

A second later, the book jerked on my hold so hard I lost my grip on it, and it flew forward, ramming itself right into Waverly’s gut.

“Oww!”she muttered, grabbing her middle and glaring at me as the book dropped to the floor at her feet.“What the hell?”

“I—sorry,” I mumbled, wincing in apology.“It…slipped.”

Picking up the tome with an irritated glare, she said, “I assume you want to check this out.”

I bobbed my head.“I…think so.”

Her eyebrows lifted.“Youthinkso?You don’t know?”

Before I could answer, the book came free of her hand and zipped toward me.I caught it before it could poke me the way it had her.

Waverly’s mouth sagged open.“How did you do that?”

I shook my head.“Do what?You dropped it.So I caught it.”

“Dropped it?”She lifted her eyebrows as if the suggestion were insane.“I didn’t drop it.It pulled free of my hand.And it flewhorizontally.”

“Right…” I nodded slowly, giving her a look that clearly told her I thought she was losing her mind.“Thebookpulled free of your hand and flew.Sure.Sounds totally plausible.”Leaning toward her, I bounced my eyebrows and asked, “Been smoking the ganja before work again, Frankie?”

“Hey.”She scowled.“I know what I felt.”

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