Sitting through my classes the next day at school, time passed unbearably slow. I'd even been distant with Rhys. He'd said I seemed uptight. I'd dismissed his comment, saying I was just in a bad mood and wanted the day to be over with, but that was a partial lie. Disinterested with anything school-related, my mind had been otherwise preoccupied. The previous night I'd had an epiphany, of sorts. I'd dreamt I was ghost hunting in a remote, unfamiliar place and could hear the voice of a little girl calling out to me from a secret place to come and play with her. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find her. When I'd awakened, as frustrating a dream as it'd been, I was more certain than ever that my dream was justification that I'd been right in attempting to communicate with the dead. It might even open a door to speaking with others, like Mr. Kennerly, who wanted my help, or to pass on a message to loved ones. And then there were those like the one I'd encountered at Cortland Bridge; harmful because they could be.

Finally, the last bell rang of the day rang. I got up and started for the door.

"Ashe, wait," Rhys said. "I have to go over some math with Jenson. I won't be long."

"That's fine. I'll walk."

"Are you sure I didn't somehow make you mad? Because if I did, you haven't bitten off my head yet ... or, did you and I didn't realize it was gone?" Pretending to be desperately worried, he reached up to his head to feel for it.

"This is why you don't have a girlfriend."

He dropped his hands. "Hey, there are plenty of girls who'd love to go out with me."

"I'll see you later." I left the classroom and hurried down the corridor.

I stepped outside. It was overcast – the perfect setting for what I planned to do. So no one would see and suddenly become curious enough to follow and see what I was doing, I quickly went to the small hill at the back of Cemetery Raven and scaled it. At the top, I looked behind me. No one had followed, or even seemed to have noticed where I'd gone. Leaving all thoughts of school and classmates behind, I headed over to the large mausoleum I'd admired, and went to its front to read the nameplate. "Sorry, Ange Lucien Lazare, I'm crashing your space for a few minutes." I moved behind it and stayed peering around its corner. After what seemed like forever had passed, Rhys' car finally came into view. He slowed, turned onto our street, and then continued on to his house.

With no chance of him seeing me, I focused my attention on the graveyard. Feeling optimistic I'd hear a disembodied voice because of my dream, I took out my recorder from my backpack and turned it on. "I'm back ... like I said I'd be. I had a dream ... about a little girl who wants to play. Are you here? What's ... your name?"

In my head, I counted slowly to twenty to give any nearby spirit time to respond, and then held the recorder to my ear to listen as I played it back. "Please, let me hear something," I whispered.

Nothing.

I called out, "The funeral home and Cortland Bridge ... have ghosts. I've seen them. I believe Cemetery Raven ... has them, too. I can sense your presence at night ... and your loneliness. I don't care if you don't believe me ... I believe in you and I'm not fooled into believing you don't exist! Please come out. I'd love to hear your voice!"

I held out the recorder and counted to twelve. I put it back to my ear ... there was only my voice. I wanted to scream that it was unfair and I'd never hurt them! But didn't. They weren't to blame – I was. The ghosts, if there were any inside the cemetery, weren't obligated to make me feel better, even though I wanted them to. It was too closely, and painfully, similar to when I'd stood at parents' grave and silently begged for a sign from them ... and when they hadn't, I'd walked away feeling empty. Again – my fault.

I left the big tomb to wander the expansive cemetery. Trying not to allow hurt feelings to lead me into thinking my efforts were in vain, I eventually gave in to my frustration. "My parents are dead! I wish you knew what it would mean to me to speak to them one last time. Please, talk to me!"

There was no response to prove my dream, and my belief in them, had any significance.

I shut off the recorder and put it into the backpack. The afternoon sky was turning darker and I'd promised my aunt to be home for a special dinner she'd planned; her way of making it up to me for leaving on another business trip. Taking a prolonged look around the graveyard, I said, "I'd rather stay and keep trying to reach you." I turned and left for home.

Walking down the sidewalk of my street, I saw Rhys' car parked curbside of his house. Because I'd ditched him for my own plans without explanation, I hurried past so he wouldn't see me and come out, demanding to know why I'd left the way I had.

I climbed the steps of Aunt Karen's porch and went inside. She was at the kitchen stove. "I'm home."

She turned. "I thought you'd gotten lost and that I'd have to send a search team out for you."

"I had something to do."

"Oh? Did you make a new friend?"

As a subtle change of topic, I replied, "I went to Cemetery Raven."

Instant regret. Her smile faded into a look I hated – pity, and then I was caught in a bear-hug. "Of course you did. Who could blame you?"

Tolerating it for only a moment longer, I gently pushed away. "I'm fine. I just wanted to look around. It's so old – lots of broken headstones, but it has some neat tombs."

Her brow creased and her lips pulled together tightly. "A young lady like you shouldn't admire those. It's not age appropriate. But since your parents just died, I'll pretend to understand ... as long as you don't make it into a habit."

Too late for that.

Switching to a more neutral subject of conversation, I asked, "What's for dinner?"

Her mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. "Well, since you seemed so fond of my meatloaf the last time, I decided to make this one fun."

She pointed to the counter – two pizza boxes! I sat at the table while she went to get them and carried them over. She placed them in center ... veggie for her, and for me, my favorite –mushroom and pineapple. Though I was still bummed out over not finding at least one ghost to communicate with, having my favorite pizza to eat dulled the pain a little. Aunt Karen sat across from me and pulled out a pizza slice while I concentrated on pulling mine free of the sticky cheese connecting it to the next piece. "So, as you know, I'll be gone again for work, but plans have changed slightly."

Partially listening, I ate as she started to tell me about her upcoming trip to California ... and that she'd be there ... for over a month!

She had my undivided attention.

"I told Rhys' parents and asked them to look in on you." She paused and then continued slowly, "I also told them to give you your space. In another year, you'll be eighteen and you need to learn how to get by on your own, especially since I'll be away so often." She smiled wryly. "You don't know how hard that was for me to say."

Outwardly, I was speechless. Inside, I was doing somersaults.

Quickly she added, "Let's talk about something else before I choose to forget I said that and have you moved in with them." She looked at me wistfully. "I love you, honey."

Sensing the conversation was about to turn sticky, I was relieved when the doorbell rang. She sighed. "That must be the cab. Tell the driver I'll be a minute." She went upstairs while I went to the front door. I opened it ...

No person was there, but something was – another white rose petal. I reached down and picked it up. "Déjà vu – like at Rhys' house – dusk, doorbell ... and ..." I murmured. I walked out onto the porch and looked out from the top step. "Of course ... no one's here."

I was put-off that someone would bother to leave a flower petal, ring a doorbell, and then run away. Especially because it had already happened before. "If I catch you, I'll rip you a new one for being so creepy."

A sudden light to my right caught my attention. A car had just turned onto Craven Lane. Slowly it neared the house. It was the taxi. The driver pulled into the driveway behind my aunt's car and parked. An older man, short and wiry, got out and jogged up the porch steps. Grinning, he said, "I'm here to take you to the airport."

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting." My aunt was at the door, suitcases in hand. The cabbie redirected his attention to her and took her luggage to his taxi, put them into the trunk, and then went to stand at the back, driver-side door to wait.

My aunt hugged me. "In the top drawer of my bedroom dresser, I have an envelope where I keep emergency money. If you need it, it's there."

"Um, thanks ... but I don't feel comfortable going through your things."

She released me. "It's not going through my things if you have my permission. Use it. Save the money your parents left you. You may want to buy something pretty." She gave me a sappy smile. "You're the only girl I've ever known who doesn't like to shop."

Starting down the steps, she called over her shoulder, "I'll call when I can, and you call me if you need to." She turned, and with mock seriousness, she added, "Need to."

I smiled and gave her a small wave. She walked to the cab and got in. The driver closed the door, got in, slammed his door shut, backed out into the street, and ... I was finally alone.

With the rose petal still in my hand, I went back inside to finish my dinner and wait for nightfall.