Page 190 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
My stomach twisted anxiously as Liv smirked from behind her mother’s chair. Dove’s hand moved to rest over mine, her touch warm and steady, silently urging me on.
“Well,” I stammered. “Um. This is where things get a little… weird. Like, really weird. Honestly, I don’t even know how to—” I broke off, my face burning as Rachel watched me with earnest eyes. “Okay, so maybe three weeks ago, or two and a half? Whatever. I walked into Dove’s shop, and she gave me a reading, and…” My words crumbled, my voice faltering into the silence.
I looked to Dove helplessly.
She gave me a reassuring smile before facing Rachel. “I gave Ellis a reading,” she said simply. “And Liv appeared.”
The words hung in the air, impossible and yet somehow freeing, suspended between us.
Rachel blinked at us both and then set down her mug as her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
I ran a hand through my hair, my shoulders cracking as I moved, struck once again by the absurdity of telling someone we had a ghost hanging out with us, and just how unbelievable it sounded, even to my own ears.
“We were in the room, Dove was reading my cards, and then… Liv just appeared—and not before she completely scared the shit out of us.” I shot Liv a pointed look, and she stuck her tongue out at me. “She told us who she was. That her heart was in my chest. That she had unfinished business. She said—she said she had to find you and make things right, so she could pass over.”
Rachel’s hands shook as she slowly raised them, her eyes wide, her face pale. “My Liv is still bound to earth?” she whispered. “Well, that makes sense why Doris couldn’t feel her.Doris—she’s a medium I sometimes see. Couldn’t get anything from Liv at all!”
“Told you this would be easy for her to believe,” Liv said with a shrug, twirling her pink hair. “This shit is Mom’s bread and butter.”
“You believe us?” Dove asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Rachel blinked, her eyes glistening as she nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I mean, listen, I’m no fool—you’ll need to answer some questions, so I know this is real and you’re not playing me.”
“Yes,” Liv said with a sardonic sigh. “Do your due diligence. Verify the ghost in the room is, in fact, your child.”
“So,” Rachel said with a smile as she crossed her arms, as if this were a game, “answer me this. What happened the first time Liv dyed her hair pink?”
Both Dove and I looked at Liv, who was still standing behind her mother, and Rachel twisted, following our gaze as if she could see her.
“You promised you would never bring this up again!” Liv groaned at her.
“I bet she’s embarrassed, huh?” Rachel said with a snort, clapping her hands together, flecks of dry clay flying off them
“I spilled the dye,” Liv admitted with a sigh. “I was actually staying at my grandmother’s fancy-ass house when it happened. The bathroom was all white. The towels were white—you get the idea, okay? Anyway, I spilled the dye all over a bunch of expensive towels and stained them really badly. It looked like a crime scene, and my grandmother freaked the fuck out. She thought I had hurt myself and called 911.”
Dove snorted. “She said it looked like a crime scene, that it happened in her grandmother’s bathroom, and her grandmother ended up calling 911.”
Rachel’s lips trembled as a small, hysterical laugh bubbled up. “Well, that’strue. It did happen. Gosh, my mother was furious when she realized. Hilarious.” Rachel’s fingers twitched as she settled her hands in her lap. “Okay, where is the red wine stain?”
Liv smirked and folded her arms. “Under the couch, on the carpet. She never found it until we moved it to clean for Christmas dinner and had to rearrange the house.”
“Under the couch,” I repeated. “On the carpet. You didn’t find it until you moved it to rearrange the house for Christmas dinner.”
Rachel’s body stiffened, as if this were no longer a game but an honest reality—that we weren’t lying and her daughter truly was standing behind her now.
“And…” She cleared her throat. “And how old was Liv when she finally gave up her dummy?”
Liv wrinkled her nose and stared at the floor. “Four. And I used to hide it down the side of my bed so no one would steal it from me.”
Dove relayed the words, and the air seemed to leave the room as Rachel covered her face, her shoulders folding inward as a raw, keening sound escaped her throat, making me jump. Dove’s hand curled tighter over mine as Rachel rocked gently in her chair. Liv stared down at her mother, clutching the back of the chair as if she depended on it.
“It’s her then,” Rachel whispered. “My Liv.”
“She’s standing behind your chair,” Dove murmured, her voice calm and assured.
For a few seconds, all that could be heard was the wind chimes clanging outside and the tiny ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. A shaft of light cut through the living room window, dust particles dancing in the air, and I wasstruck by how such an ordinary setting could host something so extraordinary.
“It’s been a journey to get here,” Dove said, breaking the silence. “We drove from Chicago, and we did Route 66. For Liv.”
