Luc craned his head around as we crossed the street. "How much farther?"

"One more block," I replied, not looking up from my phone. I squinted at the screen, trying to see around the massive crack that split it in two. My eyes were focussed on the little dot that represented our current location, watching it inch closer and closer to our destination as we walked. "I think."

"Are you sure?" he said. He leaned in, peering over my shoulder for a glimpse at the screen.

"Of course I'm sure," I said, dipping away from him. "I've been watching the map since we left."

"But..." he began, then paused, tapping at his full lips with one finger. "Something... Something feels off. What street was the coffee shop on again?"

"Alexander Street," I answered immediately. I actually had the whole address memorized, just in case.

He turned, looking back the way we came. "Did we not just pass Alexander Street?"

"No, the phone says—"

"May I see it, please?" He turned back to me and held his hand out.

I hesitated for a moment, then handed the phone over. I watched as his eyes traced the screen, squinting as well as they maneuvered over the crack. He glanced over his shoulder again, and then back, peering into the distance ahead before returning to the screen.

"Yep," he said. "Wilde is ahead, Alexander is behind us. The map is wrong."

"What?" I snatched my so-called "smart" phone back. The dot was exactly where it had been, still one block away from the destination pin. I prodded at the location button, trying to get it to refresh, but it didn't move. With an exasperated sigh, I tossed it back into my bag. Useless!

Luc wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we turned to double-back.

"This is exactly why I gave myself the full hour to get here," I leaned into him, glancing around the street. "In case I got lost." Even though I had lived in this city for three years, this neighbourhood was entirely unfamiliar to me... though that could be because all of the buildings were now in various states of renovation. Maybe I had been here before, but I no longer recognized the place.

"You know," he said, his gentle voice pulling me out of my thoughts. "If you're still shaken up, you don't have to go to this interview."

I bristled. "Yes, I do."

"You really don't," Luc insisted. "It's already been a tough day for you. You deserve a rest. And it's just a coffee shop. There will always be more coffee shops."

Straightening up, I shrugged off his arm and narrowed my eyes at him. "Have you spent the last four months throwing resumé after resumé at any business with an open sign? No. But I have, and I can tell you it's not that simple."

Luc said nothing, just gave me a understanding smile that instantly made me regret snapping at him.

"Sorry," I said, dropping my eyes. "I'm just... It's nerves."

"I know," Luc said, reaching for my hand and intertwining my fingers with his. "I know."

As we reached the corner of Alexander, I paused to look for the signature green of the coffee shop. This street, like the one behind us, had undergone a recent makeover. New glass-and-metal towers had been squeezed in-between the narrow, stone-built refurbished heritage buildings. Despite the fact that most of the buildings were empty still empty—with large signs of lease offers or coming soon! dominating their windows—the sidewalks were bustling with people.

Spotting a green awning at the end of the street, I took Luc's hand and tried to pull him into the crowd with me. But he didn't follow; he stayed anchored where he was, and I staggered as I was forced to stop.

"Luc?" I called, glancing back over my shoulder at him.

He didn't move, or even look at me. He stayed where he was, standing in middle of the sidewalk, staring up at the building beside us.

I tugged on his arm. "Come on, Luc, the café is this way."

His gaze didn't waver from its place. "This place is for rent..."

I glanced at the building that had captured his attention. It was a small storefront, just a large window and single door set into a narrow brick building. Two thin windows were stacked above, their faded blue curtains drawn.

"And?" I turned back to him.

He turned back to me, his bright-green eyes already big and pleading. "I know I said no more work today, but this place..."

I felt my heart drop. "Can't it wait? It's only, like, half an hour until my interview and—"

He winced, like he already knew I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Its just... I think that I should call them. "

I took another look at the empty suite. The big window was grimy with dust, and the dollar-store 'FOR RENT' sign taped to it was so faded it was orange rather than red. Hardly a place that seemed like it was in high demand.

My gaze fell to my feet. "But you said..."

"I know," he said softly. "But I have a feeling that I should call about the place now, or I might lose the chance."

Another feeling...

Luc hooked his finger under my chin and pulled my eyes up to his. "If you need me, I'll stay. But this could be really good for the business. And, you know," his thumb brushed against my bottom lip, "If I had a storefront again, I wouldn't need to be out as much. I'd have more time to spend with you."

The promise of more time with Luc was tempting, but it sounded just like his other promises: easily made and easily broken. I flicked my eyes back to his. The green was nearly glowing with eagerness. He really wanted this. How could I tell him no?

"Go, then."

A huge smile broke across his beautiful face."You are amazing, Rachel," he said, planting a quick kiss on my forehead. "I'll be back by the time you're done, I promise. And I'll be waiting for you outside the café."

"All right," I agreed, but I wasn't sure if he had even heard me. He had already darted away, his phone out and on again.

With another sigh, I turned back to the street, all alone despite the people brushing past. But the green awning was waiting, so I steeled myself and headed forward.

The coffee shop, like the sidewalk, was crowded with people. Every table was occupied, and the line was several people deep. But I wasn't here to get coffee; I looked around for someone official-looking, who might know where I needed to go for my interview.

At a table tucked in the far corner, I noticed a middle-aged woman dressed all in black, sitting across from a nervous looking girl who was much younger than me. There was an impressive pile of paper stacked between them. Could that be—

"Excuse me, are you here for the interview?"

I turned towards the chipper voice, coming face to face with a pretty girl whose bright purple hair and silver piercings stood out against her dark skin. She was also wearing all black, except for the iconic green barista apron, with a clipboard clutched to her chest.

"Uhm, yes." My fingers trembled as I tried to tuck my hair behind my ear, but it was too short to stay put.

"Excellent!" the girl said, turning to the clipboard in her arms. "May I have your name?"

"V-Vaughn?" I muttered.

The girl gave me a curious look.

It took me a moment to realize. "I mean, Vaughn is my last name. I'm Rachel."

"Ah," she said, and scanned the list. Her eyes trailed down the whole sheet before stopping, then made a little check. "Alrighty. Phyllis will call you when she's ready for you," she nodded at the woman with the stacks of paper I had noticed when I came in, "and feel free to help yourself to some complimentary coffee while you wait." With her pen, she pointed at the far end of the counter where several carafes where arranged next to a stack of small paper cups. She gave me a smile and then turned away to greet someone else who looked just as nervous as I felt.

My heart began to thrum. Geez, how many people were they interviewing?

I made my way towards the free coffee, more for something to do rather than any real desire for it. My nerves made me too wired already; I didn't need more energy. Thankfully there was one carafe of decaf, so I poured myself half a cup.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?" I chimed, expecting that the purple-haired barista. Is it my turn already?

It wasn't the barista. It was Harriet, a catty old co-worker from when I was still working with Polly. My stomach dropped as I watched her striding over, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her once lanky mousey-brown hair was pulled into a slick bun, with two limp strands framing her face, and she had shed her cardigans and shapeless slacks for a matching power suit.

Before I could react, Harriet leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. "I thought I heard your voice!" she chirped in my ear as she held me in a vice grip. My whole body went rigid, and my arms frozen at my sides like I couldn't remember how to use them.

After a brief, awkward moment, she pulled back, bracing her hands on my shoulders.

"Wow, it's been so long! I haven't seen you since..." Her eyes dulled as her mind worked "Geez, not since Polly disappeared."

"Yeah, it sure has been a while..." My words came out stiff and stilted. I took several steps back, out of reach, in case she tried to come in for another hug.

"What happened to you? How have you been?" Harriet said, completely oblivious to my discomfort. "I heard some crazy rumours your apartment burned down."

Instinctively I moved my scarred arm behind my back. "Yeah, that actually happened. But I'm fine." Yeah, fine except for the lasting trauma and maybe hallucinations...

"Holy shit! Is that why you didn't come back?" Harriet continued, her eyes wide. "I mean, not that there was much to come back to after Polly went on her 'personal leave'..." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Have you seen her at all? She never responded to any of my emails or texts."

"Seen her? Not really," I said. It was half true; I was living in her house, wearing her clothes, but she I hadn't actually seen her since she had left on her search for the truth of what happened to her sister.

Harriet clucked her tongue. "I'm surprised she didn't get fired, honestly. But I heard they couldn't because she had—" she leaned in to whisper, her eyes bright with the scandal of it all, "—a nervous breakdown."

My brows knotted together. Harriet may have new clothes and new hair, but she hadn't changed at all: she was still the same snarky gossip-hound. "It wasn't a nervous breakdown. She just needed to take some time to deal with a... family matter." Like finding out what drove her sister to become possessed by an evil spirit.

"Right... How do you know all that?" As she spoke, her eyes focussing in on me like she was actually seeing me for the first time. She took in my awkward haircut and ill-fitting clothes. Her stare was so intense I could barely hold it.

I swallowed. "Uh, well, she took care of me for a bit when I got sick, right before she left. She told me."

"Oh, really?" Harriet leaned in again. "What exactly did she tell you?"

What, so you can take it back to the office and feed her to the sharks? "She didn't go into detail..."

"But she must've, at least—"

"Rachel?"

We both turned.

This time it was the purple-haired barista, clipboard still in-hand. "Sorry for the wait. Phyllis is ready for you now."

"Thank you," I said to the barista, the relief a little too obvious in my voice. I gulped back the now-cold decaf and wound around Harriet. "Harriet, it was so nice seeing you again!" Not.

Harriet called something after me, but I ignored her. I was trying my best to restrain my nerves as I approached the little table where Phyllis and her papers sat.

She was busy scribbling notes on one of the sheets, but looked up when I approached. Standing up from her seat, she offered me her hand. "Hi, Rachel. I'm Phyllis. I'm the manager here and— Well, welcome, and thank you for taking the time to come in and chat."

"O-Of course," I replied, my voice trembling. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for having me."

Phyllis motioned to the now-empty chair across from her and I quickly slid into it. The seat faced the window, in full view of the street. My nervous eye couldn't help but being drawn to the busy motion of the people rushing past.

"So, Rachel," Phyllis began.

My gaze snapped to her.

"As you can see this place is packed, so the company is going to be opening another location, just one block over. We're looking to staff it as soon as possible. When would you be available to start?"

"Immediately," I answered quickly. The one benefit of being currently unemployed.

"Good to know. And what's your schedule looking like? Is this a summer job? Are you going back to school in the fall?"

I wish. "I don't have any immediate plans to, no."

Phyllis smiled and nodded, and then made a note on the paper in front of her. I realized it was my resumé. A nervous tingle ran through my hands as my heart doubled its pace. But then the tingle in my right hand spread up my arm, along the scar. A strange warmth followed, spreading through it.

No. My left hand snapped around my right wrist, squeezing it tight. This better not be another attack. Not now.

The tingle lingered, but thankfully that was all. It's just your nerves, I told myself and just hoped.

Phyllis was talking again, telling me about the training plan for the new store. I tried my best to focus on her words. "Everyone will have to take part time shifts at this location while the other is under construction. Then once the new store is done—"

A loud thump resonated through the small café as something hit the glass. Everyone inside the cafe turned to look, even Phyllis. It was a couple, embracing passionately against the glass. Several chuckles rippled through the onlookers, until the people seated next to window—their gaze unfortunately level with the Romeo's ass—knocked loudly against the glass, shocking the lovers out of her lusty daze.

Phyllis chuckled as she turned back to me. "Sorry, having interviews in here can be a little distracting."

"I-It's fine," I said, forcing myself to focus on her again. The prickle, more of a low throb now, continued. I wrung my wrist. "And, I'm okay with working part-time for now. But I'm totally available, as well. If you need it."

"Good to know," Phyllis said again, making another note. "Now, we may need to you come in for a couple of evenings for training, as we can't—"

There was another thump at the window, and my eye was drawn back. But this time it was no lovesick puppies. A sickly, pale girl stood there, her hands splayed wide against the glass, her face pressed close as she peered in.

My heart lurched at the sight of her. It was the girl, the ghost—or whatever she was—from before.

How was she here?

Had she followed me?

No one else seemed to notice her as her empty eyes locked on mine. Again they widened, that same look of horror pulling at her sunken features. And like before she reached for me, her long, bony arm stretching forward... forward through the glass.

The throb in my arm sharpened. It felt like a lightning strike, white hot and just as sudden. I couldn't fight it—it roared through me, a monster ready to consume. Agony ripped through me, making my vision blur. My whole body went weak, and I couldn't find the strength to hold myself up. I slid off my chair and into darkness.

+ + +

Doth thine eyes deceive thee? Nay! I actually updated! 'Tis a miracle! 

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please vote if you did!

Who do you think this ghost girl is?
Is she just in Rachel's head, or an actual ghost?