Page 26 of Mourner for Hire
I cock my head to the side. “Are you sure you aren’t a twin of the deceased?”
She lets out a loud cackle, and I look around. Surely, someone else hears her, but it would seem she’s drawn zero attention from anyone else.
“You know my son.”
I practically jump out of my skin. “I didn’t know I knew your son.”
She smiles. “This will either make it a million times easier… or harder. You pick.”
“Ipick?” I ask, pointing at my chest. “That is the biggest load of shit I’ve heard. I can’t do this, Annabelle.”
“Why not?” She crosses her arms.
“Because I have a connection to the deceased.”
“Like what?”
I inhale sharply, ready with my reply then panic. “I would rather not concern you with it. But he’s so mad, Annabelle. He wants nothing to do with me. I’m in the will, and he is ready to bury me with you.”
She glares at me.
“It feels inappropriate.”
“I’m still paying you,” she accuses, stepping closer. “I may be dead, but you have to hold up your end of the bargain, or you won’t see a dime.”
“I don’t need your money.”
“Like hell you don’t.” Her eyes snap from my shoes to my face.
My jaw drops, aghast. “That’s rude.’
“Vada, you are going to do this,” she says, then softens. “Come on! It will be good for you!”
“No!” I slice my hand through the air, then immediately slap my hands on my forehead.
I am talking to a hallucination.
And it took me an entire conversation to realize it. “I’m leaving. I’m going back to Portland.”
I storm away, and she grabs my arm but doesn’t take hold of it. A coldness drifts through my arm like ice in my veins. It gives me pause, and I stare at the contact… or lack of.
“Oh. I guess I can’t grab you.”
My brow twists. This is unreal. I start walking again, letting her haunt me from behind.
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!” she hollers.
But the way the sound waves vibrate around me, I can’t tell if she’s in front of me, next to me, or behind. She is everywhere, all around me at once, and I immediately start swatting at the air. “Go away!”
“I’m not sure I can,” she says as I practically sprint to my car, hearing faint whispers of the ghost of Annabelle saying, “I’m coming with!”
SEVEN
DOMINIC
I hada feeling she was fucking crazy.
The way she’s talking to herself in the middle of a cemetery, slicing her hands through the air, and arguing with a tree confirms just that.
