Haunting the Night

A Past Midnight Novella

Mara Purnhagen

Charlotte Silver has been through hell.

Her mom’s in a coma. She may have caused the
death of a young man. And now her friend Avery
wants her to tackle going to Prom? Not going to
happen, even if she is dying to spend some alone
time with her boyfriend, Noah. Instead, Charlotte
needs to find some answers to a few nagging
questions—why was her family attacked? Will her
mother survive? And is there a creature from the
Other Side coming for her? Soon enough, Charlotte’s
search for the truth becomes a race against time. But
she may just find the sign she’s been looking for all
along….

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About the Author

Chapter One

I refused to wear a bloodstained dress to Prom. “No
way,” I told Avery. “I’m not going.”

“Please, Charlotte,” my best friend

implored. “It’s your last chance.”

But I had made up my mind. The event I

had spent months looking forward to no longer held
any luster. I wasn’t going to my senior prom, and
nothing Avery said was going to change my mind. But
that didn’t keep her from trying.

“It’s my one and only time as head of the

prom committee,” she said. “I’ve put so much work
into it. And you’ve helped me a ton. I need you there.”

The only things I had helped with included

tossing glitter onto neon posters and agreeing with
Avery’s choice of table decorations. “Sorry.” I shook
my head. “It’s not gonna happen.”

She sighed and set down the magazine

she had been flipping through, startling Dante, her
little dog. It was Friday afternoon, and we were
hanging out in her room before dinner. It had become
part of my new routine to go to her house after school.

Dad didn’t return home from the hospital until seven
every night, and I didn’t like to stay in my house alone.

“We can get you a new dress, you know.”
I rolled my eyes at the suggestion. Did she

really think that was it? That if I bought a new, blood-
free dress, everything would be okay? I knew Avery.
She was a problem solver and a good friend. She
couldn’t possibly believe that a sparkling new gown
would fix everything that had happened over the past
four weeks.

“I won’t be in town that weekend, anyway,”

I said. “I’ve already made plans to visit Annalise in
Charleston. I leave on Wednesday.”

Missing three days of school would have

been a big deal to my parents at one point. But Dad
agreed that I needed a little time away and he’d
worked something out with the principal.

“You can go to Charleston anytime! There

won’t be another senior Prom.”

She was persistent, but I was stubborn.

We had reached an impasse, so I tried to change the
subject.

“Thanks for those history notes. I think I did

okay on the quiz today.”

Avery snorted. “I don’t understand why

they can’t give you a pass on those things. You have

enough to think about without having to study for
pointless tests.”

But I liked studying. It gave me something

to focus on other than my mom. And my teachers

had

given me a free pass for a few weeks. At first, I
couldn’t even hold a pen because of the stitches sewn
into my palm. It hurt too much. So I was allowed to
take oral exams and given extra credit work. After my
hand finally healed, it was back to my regular class
work.

I examined my hand now. The jagged pink

scars would be unnoticeable to anyone not looking for
them. But I noticed them. Every day I saw them, and
was reminded of how they got there.

“Hey.” Avery’s voice was soft. “You okay?”
I closed my hand. “I’m fine.”
It was my standard lie, and Avery wasn’t

buying it. “It wasn’t your fault. You know that.”

But I didn’t know that, despite my friends

and family assuring me of my innocence on a daily
basis. My careless mistakes had landed both my
parents in the hospital. I had endangered my friends.

And I was the reason why a young man

now lay in a coffin.

Avery’s phone rang. She shot me an

apologetic glance. “Prom stuff. I have to take this.”

I walked over to her bookshelf while Avery

discussed tiaras with her caller. “We settled this. I
don’t want anything tacky, and that one is definitely
tacky.” There was a pause. “No, I said tasteful. A two-
foot crown is not tasteful, and I doubt it’ll sit right on
the queen’s head. Go back to our first choice, okay?”

She sighed and hung up. “Sometimes I

think we should switch from Prom Committee to Prom
Dictatorship.”

I laughed. “All hail Avery, Queen of the

Prom.”

She waved her hand. “Please. I withdrew

my name from the ballot. I’m not in the running for
Prom Queen.”

“Really?” I was surprised. Avery could

easily win the votes needed to earn the coveted
crown.

“I was Homecoming Queen last year. It

wasn’t quite the life-altering thrill I thought it would be,
and I doubt Prom will be any different. Someone else
should win this title, someone who actually wants it.”

“That’s noble of you.”
“Not really.” She frowned. “Based on the

initial votes, Harris Abbott is a shoo-in for Prom King,
and there’s no way I’m going to stand next to him on a
platform and smile after what he did to you.”

What Harris Abbott had done to me was

something I wanted to completely forget. And for the
most part, I had. We had dated briefly after New
Year’s, until I discovered he already had a girlfriend
and was simply using me to help her. Or rather, he
was using me to get to my semi-famous ghost-hunting
parents. Mom and Dad worked to debunk some of
the world’s most famous ghost stories. Their books
and TV deals meant that we spent little time living in
one place—until last year, when we arrived in South
Carolina and I accidentally got a glimpse of the other
side.

“Harris doesn’t matter to me anymore,” I

told Avery now.

“Good. He shouldn’t.” She shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean I want to be anywhere near him,
though.”

A glance out the window told me that it

was later than I thought. Even though I lived just a short
walk up the street, I didn’t want to be outside when it
got dark.

“I should go,” I said, standing up. “My dad

will be home soon.”

Avery started to say something, but

stopped. “Okay. I’ll call you later.”

The sun was setting fast as I hurried up

the hill, and even though it was warm outside, I
shivered a little. It wasn’t the approaching dark that
frightened me. It was the things that could hide within
it.

When I first saw the strange shadow, it

was crouched across the street. From my view at the
living room window, it appeared at first to be a small
dog, about the size of Dante but black in color. My
heart pounded with the recent memory of Marcus,
who had crawled down the street in his possessed
state only two weeks earlier. But this was a smaller
creature, too little to be a full-grown man. Still,
something about it reminded me of Marcus.

I began seeing the shadow every day. My

phantom stalker moved with the speed of a wild cat
and appeared larger each time I saw it. Sometimes I
caught only a glimpse of the thing as it streaked down
the street. Other times, it simply sat on the sidewalk. I
knew it was there for me, that it was watching me,
waiting. But waiting for what? I had no idea, but it
terrified me. And that was the main reason I needed
to go to Charleston. I had to get away from it. Maybe if
I was gone for a few days, the shadow would give up
its vigil and leave me alone.

I kept my head down and I approached my

house, unwilling to sneak a peek across the street. If

the shadow thing was there, I did not want to see it.
Focused on unlocking the front door, I didn’t even
notice that Noah was sitting on the front porch until he
spoke.

“Hey.”
I gasped and dropped the keys. He came

over to me, taking my shaky hands in his. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” I smiled, but I knew he

could see through it.

“Did you see it again?”
Only Noah knew about the shadow

creature. And even though he had never spotted it, he
believed that I was truly seeing something. It was nice
to have someone trust my words even if they didn’t
make sense.

“No, but it’s getting dark,” I said. “It usually

makes an appearance right around now.”

Noah picked up my keys and unlocked the

front door. “Well, I’m here now. You’re not going to be
alone.”

Relief filled me as we went inside. Noah

began turning on lights while I dropped my backpack
to the floor and took off my shoes. “How long had you
been out on the porch?” I asked him.

He turned on a lamp in the dining room

and joined me on the sofa. “About a half hour. I stayed
after school today and got a ride over. I figured you
were at Avery’s.”

“You should have come over.”
He shook his head. “And interrupt girl

time? No chance.”

“I could have used you.” I snuggled closer

to him and he draped an arm around me. “She’s really
pushing the Prom thing.”

“Yeah, she’s been after me, too. She

thinks I can convince you to go.”

I looked at him, my eyes immediately

finding the small bruise on his neck. I was waiting for it
to fade and disappear, but the reminder of the attack
we endured four weeks earlier was still there.

“If it matters to you, I’ll go.”
He kissed my forehead. “What matters to

me is that you’re okay.”

I reached for the remote and turned on the

TV. As I settled back into Noah, I heard his stomach
growl. “I forgot about dinner,” I said. “You want to order
something?”

“Sure. Anything but pizza.”
I was sick of pizza, as well. Neither my

dad nor I were very good in the kitchen, and we ended
up eating pizza three times a week. Noah and I

decided on Chinese food. He placed the order while I
called to check in on Dad.

“I think I’m going to stay here tonight.” His

voice was laced with exhaustion. “We’re trying out
some new medication and I want to be here.”

“Okay.”
“Shane will be over soon to stay with you.

Have you had dinner yet?”

I looked over to the kitchen, where Noah

was on the phone. “We’re ordering it now. What about
you? Have you eaten?”

I worried about my dad, who seemed to

exist solely on coffee and stale sandwiches from the
hospital cafeteria. He’d lost weight over the past
month. His face was leaner and he always wore a belt
now.

“I’ll get something from the vending

machine,” Dad said.

“You can’t live on candy bars. I’m going to

start packing you a lunch.”

“Sounds good. I have to go, Charlotte. The

doctor’s here.”

I hung up, wondering if he’d really heard

me. When Noah came back into the room, I told him
about my concerns. He agreed that my dad needed to
eat better and offered to recruit his mom to help. “She

loves cooking for you guys.”

“She’s already done so much for us,” I

protested. “I can’t ask her for any more. Besides, I
need to take care of my dad. It’s not your mom’s
responsibility.”

“And it’s not yours, either.” Noah pulled

me into a hug. “You have enough going on as it is. Let
people help you. They want to.”

I reluctantly agreed. We watched TV as

we waited for our food to arrive, flipping between the
news and a comedy special. The doorbell rang while
Noah was in the bathroom. I grabbed some money
from my purse and opened the door, where I was
greeted with a man holding two brown paper bags of
food. The scent of garlic chicken made my mouth
water. I paid the delivery guy and took the bags, then
set them on the hallway table so I could shut the door.
When I turned around, the delivery guy was gone.

But the shadow creature was there, sitting

across the street.

It was now the size of a German

shepherd. My hand felt frozen to the doorknob as I
stared at the thing. I could make out two distinctive
legs. The shape resembled a man crouching, and
although I could not see a clear face, I knew in my
terrified gut that it was looking directly at me.

Noah came out of the bathroom. “Smells

great,” he said as he approached me. “Charlotte? Are
you okay?”

I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t do anything

but gaze across the street. The shadow creature was
slowly becoming lighter, melting into the night. By the
time Noah stood beside me to also look across the
street, it was gone.

I let go of the doorknob and stepped back.

“It was there,” I whispered. “It was just there.”

Noah stepped onto the porch and

scanned up and down the street. Then he came back
inside and shut the door. “Come on, let’s eat.”

I nodded, grateful that he didn’t state the

obvious: there was nothing there. But it had been
there, and at the rate it seemed to be growing, I
wondered how much time I had left before it was the
size of an elephant. Or maybe it would stop once it
took the form of a full-grown man. I didn’t know—and I
didn’t want to find out.

I had to get away and leave it behind me.

Charleston would be my escape. Next Wednesday
could not come soon enough.

Chapter Two

“King me.”

Mills frowned as he tried to make sense of

my latest move. “Was that legal?”

I was already collecting my red pieces

and preparing for the next game. Mills had tried to
teach me chess, but he was very good at the game
and had no patience as I struggled to remember
which way the knight could move. Also, it bugged him
that I called it a horse. He gave up and we stuck to
checkers as a way to occupy ourselves as we passed
the hours in Mom’s hospital room.

I enjoyed spending time with Mills. He and

Annalise had been dating for almost a year, the
longest my sister had ever dated anyone. And the
more I got to know him, the more I liked him. Annalise
usually visited at the same time, but there were times
like today when she had school responsibilities that
kept her in Charleston. When that happened, Mills
came by himself and met me at the hospital. He never
complained or acted like he was doing me some
huge favor. He was there every Saturday, with or

without my sister, and we played games or talked for
hours while Mom lay comatose in her bed. It was nice
to have something to focus on other than the
persistent beeping of Mom’s monitors and the

whoosh

of her breathing machine.

Checkers was also a way for me to keep

my thoughts from wandering to the shadow creature.
The sight of it the night before had rattled me
throughout dinner with Noah and appeared once in
my dreams, where it did nothing more than watch me
from my closet. Still, it was enough to frighten me into
consciousness. So far, I had only witnessed it outside.
Was it about to begin visiting me in my room?

Mills set up his pieces. “I’m keeping an

eye on you this time.”

“I don’t cheat! You just can’t stand it that

I’m better than you at this.”

He smiled. “I’ve been holding back.

Prepare to lose, Charlotte.”

“Bring it.”
He won the next game, but I won the round

after that. We were setting up the board for a decisive
fourth match when one of Mom’s monitors began
beeping too fast. Mills and I immediately turned
around. The high-pitched noise was getting worse
and a red light flashed on one of the machines.

Mills got up and strode to the call button.

Before he could push it, three nurses and a doctor
swarmed through the doors.

“You need to wait outside,” said one of the

nurses to Mills. He nodded. I couldn’t move, though.
Fear kept me frozen to the little table with its waiting
checkerboard. Mills put one arm around my shoulders
and guided me out of the room, away from the tightly
controlled chaos of the medical team working on
Mom.

Once we were outside the room, Mills

ushered me to the end of the hallway. “Let’s sit down
over here, okay?” I slumped into a hard vinyl chair.
“I’m going to call your dad and let him know that
something’s going on.”

I nodded and wondered what Mills would

say. Something was going on, but what? None of the
words the nurses had recited to one another made
sense to me. I wasn’t even sure they were speaking a
real language.

The clock bolted to the wall ticked too

loudly. I watched the red minute hand as it clunked its
way in a perfect circle. In the corner, Mills was talking
on his cell phone.

I hated waiting like this, without knowing

what was happening, but it had become a kind of job.

As a family, we had decided that Mom shouldn’t be
alone all day. We took shifts, with Dad visiting Sunday
through Thursday. Shane and Trisha came on
Fridays. I came on Saturdays and any day I didn’t
have school. We talked to her, reading aloud from
magazines and newspapers. But after a while, we did
other things, too. Sometimes I worked on schoolwork.
Dad often brought books. The point was to be there in
case something like this occurred. It was an unspoken
agreement between all of us: if the very worst
happened, Mom would not be alone.

Mills shut his phone and sat down next to

me. “Your dad and Shane are on their way. They
should be here in twenty minutes.”

“Good. Thanks.”
“Do you need anything? Are you hungry?”
“No.” I leaned to the side so I could look

down the hall. “I want to be here when the doctor
comes out.”

“Sure.”
Four minutes passed. “I really hate that

clock,” I muttered.

Mills chuckled. “I was thinking the exact

same thing. I wish it had a mute button.”

This made me smile. I leaned into him,

and he put his arm around me. He knew enough not to

say that it was all going to be okay or that he was sure
everything was fine. He knew that the only thing I
needed was a hug.

After three more minutes, a nurse

emerged from Mom’s room. Mills and I stood up.

“The doctor will be with you shortly,” she

told us. “Your mother is stable right now.”

Right now

. Did that mean she wouldn’t be

stable later?

“Thank you,” Mills said. “We’ll wait here.”
The nurse left. I didn’t want to sit down

again. Instead, I paced the tiny waiting room.

“We’ll know something soon,” Mills

reassured me. “She pulled out of it. That’s positive.”

“Yeah.”
I stared out the row of windows lining the

wall, even though the only view it offered was of
another wing of the hospital.

“I wish we had a sign,” I said, letting my

forehead rest against the glass. “I wish I knew how all
of this ended.”

I wasn’t sure that Mills had heard me.

Another minute passed before he spoke. “Did I ever
tell you about my mom?”

I turned around. “No.” He had told me a

few stories about his dad, who had taught him chess,

and I knew he had five cousins, all girls. But he had
never mentioned his mother.

“She was killed in a car accident when I

was ten.”

I moved away from the windows. “I’m so

sorry. I had no idea.”

He shrugged. “It’s not something I really

talk about. But I’m bringing it up now for a reason.”

Mills waited until I returned to my chair

before he began speaking again. “It was hard. We all
struggled after she died. It didn’t even seem real to
me until right before my eleventh birthday. It hit me that
she wouldn’t be there to bake the cake or sing to me
or decorate my doorway.” He smiled. “It was this thing
she did every year. She always strung streamers
around my bedroom door and taped balloons to the
wall. It was something I loved, especially the balloons.”

Mills awoke on his birthday, sad but

hopeful. He opened his bedroom door, wanting more
than anything to see the familiar streamers curled with
care, and the bunches of balloons taped to the frame.
There was nothing.

His dad tried, he said. There was a

chocolate cake served after his favorite dinner and a
new bike wrapped in newspaper waiting for him on
the back porch. But without his mom, Mill’s birthday

was an unhappy one. He went to bed early,
desperately wanting the day to be over. It was
summer, and the sun hadn’t set yet. Mills sat on his
bed, thinking about his mom and wishing that she
could be there.

“I wanted a sign,” he said. “Just one thing

to help me know that she was okay, that she still loved
me and remembered my birthday.” He shook his
head. “I know it sounds stupid, but I was eleven, and it
meant so much.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all,” I said, and I

meant it. How can it be stupid to miss someone, to
want more than anything to know that they are still
around in some way?

“I wanted a sign,” Mills repeated. “I asked

for a sign. And I got it.”

He pulled out his wallet. It was made of

soft brown leather, worn at the corners where he
folded it in half. He opened it as if he was going to
retrieve a dollar bill, but instead of pulling out money,
he showed me a piece of what looked like a slip of
silver foil.

“What is it?” I asked.
“I was staring out my window.” Mills

looked at the thing in his hand. “There was a tree
outside, so close that its branches used to scrape

against the glass.”

It was still light out, he said, but beginning

to get dark. His window was open to let in the summer
air. He got up and went down the hall to brush his
teeth. And when he returned, it was there. Stuck in the
branches of the tree was a single balloon.

It was a big, silver Mylar balloon

emblazoned with the words Happy Birthday in a
rainbow of colors.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Mills said. “It was

right there, so close that I could touch it.”

He punched out the window screen and

pulled the balloon inside. “I asked for a sign, and I
received it. And this—” here he held out the piece of
shiny silver “—this is what I keep with me every day,
no matter what.”

He let me hold the shard of balloon that he

had saved. One side was silver, but the other was
printed with a red “B.”

“I keep that with me. The B is to remind

me to believe.” He smiled. “I haven’t had even half the
experiences with the paranormal that you have,
Charlotte. This was my only encounter with something
unusual before I met your sister. But I know this is real.
I know that my request was answered. And if it can
happen for me, it can happen for you, too.”

“But my mother isn’t dead,” I murmured,

feeling the slippery surface of the balloon between my
fingers.

Mills put his hand over mine. I looked up at

him, at his kind eyes sheltered behind thick glasses.
“Doesn’t matter. If you need a sign that she’s okay,
then you should ask for it.”

I gave him back the piece of balloon and

watched as he placed it carefully within the folds of his
wallet.

I wanted a sign so badly, an assurance

that in the end, everything would be fine. But I didn’t
know how to ask for it. Would I even recognize a sign
if it was right outside my window? I winced,
remembering that the only thing sitting outside my
window at night was a dark shadow creature. And it
wasn’t giving off positive vibes. Maybe it was a
warning that things would not be okay. Maybe it was
waiting for me to accept that.

Fast footsteps came down the hallway

and we stood, ready for the doctor’s prognosis. I
reached for Mill’s hand, glad that he was with me.
Perhaps I didn’t need a sign when I had the support of
a good friend.

But it would be nice.

Chapter Three

It was the medication. The doctor told me and Mills
that they had tried—with Dad’s approval—a new kind
of medication and that Mom had experienced “an
adverse reaction” to the concoction. She was fine, the
doctor assured us, and they would return her to the
original drugs. I was relieved and anxious to see her.
Minutes later, when Shane and Dad arrived, the
diagnosis was repeated. Shane got angry, but Dad
was surprisingly calm. “It’s my fault,” he told Shane,
and I hung my head because I knew that, in the end, it
was really my fault Mom was lying in the hard hospital
bed. That guilt hung around my neck like an albatross,
weighing me down with every step I took.

It wasn’t the only thing I felt guilty about.

More and more, my thoughts returned to Marcus. I
hated that I knew so little about him. He had died in
front of me when an evil spirit had crossed over to our
world—and into Marcus’s body, which was used like
a puppet to punish me. Shouldn’t I at least know his
last name? I wondered if the shadow creature was
directly related to that guilt. Maybe it was urging me to

discover more about Marcus. Maybe it was preparing
to hurt me for my part in his death. The two were
connected, but I didn’t know how.

I spent that night curled in a chair by

Mom’s bedside. Dad was there, too. Shane had tried
to convince me to come back home with him, but after
my third firm “no,” he let it go. I needed to be near my
mom, but I also had a selfish reason for wanting to
stay: it meant I would not have to see the shadow
creature for at least one evening. Surrounded by
family and nurses and avoiding the window, I was
able to evade any glimpse outside.

Mills returned to Charleston and Annalise,

but not before reassuring me that he was there if I
needed him. “Annalise needs you more right now,” I
said.

“Yeah, you’re way too strong to need

someone like me.” He smiled. “But I can still kick your
butt at chess.”

“And I can kick your butt at checkers.”
“I’m going to get you next time, Charlotte.”

He hugged me. “That’s a promise.”

After he left, I realized that I had been

hugged more in the past month than I had during my
entire life leading up to Mom’s assault.

It was difficult to concentrate at school on

Monday. Mom was fine—or as fine as someone could
be when they were lying in a coma—but her medical
scare had rattled me. Avery and Noah could sense
my change in demeanor, but it was subtle enough that
no one else seemed to notice. I went to class, ate
lunch and generally walked through my daily routine
like a zombie.

The only change in my schedule was that I

now spent study hall in the library. I was committed to
finding more about the person Marcus had been, as
well as researching the history of shadow creatures.
Both were difficult tasks, especially since the school
computers blocked so many sites that would have
been helpful to me. But the work wasn’t something I
wanted to do at home, where Dad or even Shane
might wonder what I was up to.

Sitting behind a computer in the quiet

library, I was able to search the local newspaper
database for articles about the attack. I had purposely
avoided reading the official account of what had
happened in our house that night, mainly because so
much of the information was flat-out wrong. We had
lied, and the proof was clear in the very first headline I
saw: Obsessed Fan Attacks Local Celebrity.

Marcus had not been an obsessed fan.

He had been a possessed man, but that wasn’t the

kind of story we could give to the authorities. We told
as much of the truth as we could. The rest was our
secret to carry.

The article was helpful. It stated Marcus’s

full name in the first paragraph as Marcus A. Archer.
But a search through the newspaper’s obituaries over
the past month turned up nothing. It made sense, in a
way. Marcus had not been from our town. But I had no
idea where he

was

from. At least I had one piece of

solid information. It was a starting point, but I had a lot
more work to do, especially when it came to
researching the shadow creature.

My knowledge of shadow beings was

limited to the handful of cases my family had
investigated over the years. We looked into reports of
shadow people and even shadow animals, but never
caught anything on camera. Dad theorized that
people had witnessed random shadows caused by
nature, and their startled minds filled in the blanks and
made the assumption that the shadows were actually
human in form. It made sense: alone in a dark room,
one might see a shape caused by light hitting a mirror
at a strange angle. It might be the person’s own
shadow that scared them.

But what I was seeing was definitely not

my imagination. Nor did it fall under the category of

strange-yet-natural phenomenon. It was something I
needed to research and define on my own. I started
by typing “shadow creatures” into the search engine.
There were thousands of hits, and I scrolled down,
trying to find a site that looked at least a little
respectable, with articles rather than simply personal
anecdotes. I found a few that provided historical
examples of shadow people, and the descriptions
matched what I had seen: a dark figure with a
humanlike outline. But nothing I read mentioned a
creature that grew with each visit. Most agreed that
the creatures were manifestations of evil or negative
energy, and most articles mentioned people seeing
them in doorways, for some reason.

The bell was about to ring and my eyes

hurt from staring at the computer screen. I needed to
get ready for my next class. But first, I wanted to check
out one more link that looked promising. A
psychiatrist had written an essay about the meaning
of dreams. Shadow people were mentioned as a
recurring theme. The psychiatrist theorized that the
shadow people were often a representation of guilt.

I sat back in my chair and rubbed my

weary eyes. If the shadow thing was actually a form of
my guilt, the best way to get rid of it would be to not
feel guilty. Simple solution—impossible task.

I was still thinking about it that night when

Annalise called to confirm our plans for the following
week. “It will be so much fun! We can stay up late and
watch bad movies,” she said. “It’s just going to be us.”

It was exactly what I wanted: a long

weekend away from all the stress. We could spend
time at the beach or walking around downtown. There
would be no schedules, no homework, no doctor
updates. And hopefully, no visits from my shadow
stalker.

As I chatted with my sister, I kept my eyes

focused on the mute TV in front of me. I didn’t want to
glance toward the window. Even with the curtains
closed, I knew it was out there, and I did not want to
see how it had grown or changed. But I was afraid to
not look at it, as well. What would happen if I refused
to acknowledge it? Would it try to get my attention in
another way? Would it cross the invisible boundary
between us, leave its spot across the street and
appear at my window? I couldn’t take that chance.

After I hung up with Annalise, I went to the

window and slowly drew back the curtain.
Immediately, my eyes went to the streetlight. And
there it was, slightly bigger and a shade darker than it
had been the day before. My heartbeat quickened. I
counted to three, but before I could release the

curtain, something happened. The creature moved.

It was just one step forward, but the

motion scared me so much that I gasped and let go of
the curtain. It had never moved toward me before. I
took a deep breath and waited, knowing I needed to
make sure the thing was gone but terrified that the
moment I pulled back the curtain again I would see it
on my porch. My hands shaking, I gripped the side of
the curtain and pushed it back quickly, as if I was
ripping off a bandage.

There was nothing there. Nothing that I

could see, anyway. My heart began to slow down, but
my resolve to get rid of this thing strengthened. Its
behavior had altered, even if it was only a subtle
difference. I had to figure out why before anything else
changed.

School helped keep me sane. The next

day I fell into my usual habits. I smiled and nodded at
people in the hallways, took notes as best as I could
during class and sat at the same lunch table,
surrounded by my friends and Noah. It was bearable,
and knowing that I would get a chance to do more
research helped me to keep going.

The only thing that bothered me at school

was the growing excitement over Prom. Posters
advertising the upcoming event bombarded me in

every hallway, but I was sticking with my decision: the
dance was not for me.

Prom wasn’t for Noah, either. “It’s totally

up to you,” he reassured me for the tenth time. “But it’s
fine if you don’t want to go, as long as you don’t feel
like you’ll be missing something.”

It was just before study hall. I kissed him

lightly on the lips. “The only thing I’ll be missing is a
chance to see you in a tux.”

He returned my kiss. “Say the word and I’ll

go out and get one right now.”

The image of Noah wearing a tux thrilled

me. He looked good in jeans and a basic T-shirt. He
would look amazing in a solid black suit. I could
almost picture myself on his arm, walking into the
Prom together. We would dance under the moving
lights, eat the bland chicken dinner and then pose
beside the fake palm tree for pictures.

Maybe it would be a good time, a nice

memory. But I knew myself. I knew that the moment I
began to lose myself in the moment, everything that
had happened to my family would come rushing back,
and a good moment would sour into a terrible one. I
couldn’t do that—to myself, my friends, or Noah. What
if I melted into a panic attack on the dance floor?
Prom would be remembered as the night they needed

to haul Charlotte Silver away in an ambulance. I
couldn’t take that chance.

I went to the library and sat at my usual

computer desk, ready to uncover more information
about shadow beings. I read through articles about
sightings and experiences, but none of them really
matched mine. After a while, I turned my attention to a
new search. I leaned forward and typed in the name
that I couldn’t get out of my head. The screen filled
with hits, but none matched the person I was trying to
find. Finally, after wading through five pages of sports
scores and genealogy links, I found it: a national
obituary archive. Again, I typed in the name. This time,
I found what I was looking for.

Marcus Albert Archer, 23, passed away

on April 13. He was born in Portage, Michigan, and
attended college in New Mexico, followed by
graduate work in South Carolina. He is preceded in
death by his mother, Rachel Lynn Bennett, and is
survived by his father and brother. A private memorial
service was held at the Hilton Head estate of Dr.
Leonard Zelden on April 18.

Strange, I thought. The brief obit

mentioned states but not the actual schools. And only
his mother was given a name. His mother and Dr.
Zelden, I mentally corrected. I wondered if it was

Zelden who had paid for the obituary. The mention of
Hilton Head was interesting to me, too. The island
was located only two hours from Charleston. Not that I
had any intention of paying a visit to Dr. Zelden. But it
seemed likely that he would know where Marcus was
buried.

My cell phone sat tucked inside my

backpack. Zelden had called me several times, so his
number was logged in my history. I slipped the phone
in my pocket and asked the librarian for a bathroom
pass.

Once outside the library, I headed for the

AV hallway. I knew it was basically deserted at this
time of day and got good reception. After making
sure that Mr. Morley was nowhere around, I ducked
inside his classroom.

I hesitated before dialing Zelden’s

number. He was someone I wanted to forget,
someone I wanted nothing to do with. We had not
spoken since his final phone call to me a month
earlier, in which he had tried to communicate a secret
message to me, words that were meant to warn my
mother that something bad was headed our way. I
didn’t pass on the message, and because of that,
Mom had been injured. So had Zelden, but unlike my
mother, he had recovered completely.

Don’t over think it, I told myself. Call him,

ask if he knows where Marcus is buried and then
delete his number from the phone. I pressed the
button, listened to the sound of electronic numbers
going through and held my breath. I wasn’t even sure
if the number still worked, but after a second I heard it
ringing.

Zelden’s voice delivered a standard

instruction to leave a message after the beep. I was
relieved—a big part of me was not ready to speak to
him. But when the beep arrived, I didn’t know what to
say. I hung up, deciding to try again another time.
Then I thought of the shadow creature. I dialed the
number again, but this time, I left a message.

Chapter Four

When I didn’t hear back from Zelden by the end of the
day, I figured he was on vacation and wasn’t checking
his messages. Then another day passed without
word. And another. I tried not to think about it too
much. Still, I was constantly checking my phone. And
every time I looked at the blank screen I felt a strange
twinge of disappointment.

Zelden mattered. He knew where Marcus

was buried, and that information was vital to
banishing the shadow creature. I was sure of it. My
relentless research had led me to one conclusion: the
creature haunting my nights needed me to do
something, to complete a task. And that task was to
find Marcus, acknowledge his death and beg his
forgiveness. If I could do that, I would be free. Free of
moments like the one I’d had the evening before.

I was in my bedroom. Shane was

downstairs, assuming his role as my guardian since
Dad was spending another night at the hospital. After
brushing my teeth and slipping into my favorite
pajama pants and one of Noah’s old T-shirts, I got into

bed. But I couldn’t sleep. Something felt unfinished to
me, and despite trying to deny it, I knew exactly what it
was. My day would not be done until I saw it, until I
knew how much it had grown.

It was a horrible routine. I waited as long

as I could before creeping downstairs in the dark and
pulling back the living room curtain. Each time, my
heart galloped and I held my breath. Each time I
hoped it would not be there, crouched across the
street. And each time, I knew it would be there.

But this time, I stayed in bed longer than

normal. I stared at the dark ceiling. I concentrated on
my breathing, tried to slow it down and relax. It was a
technique I’d heard on a talk show, and I was
surprised by how well it worked. Every once in a
while, I would stop and take a deep breath. It didn’t fix
everything, but it gave me a moment of calm. And one
moment of calm could propel me through the rest of
the day.

Hours passed. I struggled to find a

comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing worked. I
was fighting the simple truth that I needed to leave my
warm bed and walk downstairs to look outside the
living room window.

I could hear Shane snoring from his usual

position in the living room. Dad had offered him the

guest room, but Shane had declined, saying that it
was really Annalise’s room and he couldn’t take it
over. So he kept a sleeping bag tucked in our hall
closet and brought it out when he spent the night—
which was becoming more and more frequent. I felt
badly that he was sleeping on the floor, but Shane
insisted that he liked it. His contented (and loud)
snoring seemed to confirm it.

Giving up my attempts to sleep, I flung the

covers to the side. Barefoot, I tiptoed through the
hallway and down the stairs. Shane’s snoring was
steady, which told me that he was sound asleep. A
quick peek to my right confirmed that he was curled
up on the floor. The soft beam coming from the
streetlight showed me that the sleeping bag was
tucked beneath his chin and his mouth was wide-
open. It made me feel better knowing that Shane was
there. It meant that a protective force was just a few
feet away from me, and a single scream would rouse
him from his sleep.

I stepped toward the living room window.

The blinds were open, but the sheer white curtains
had been pulled shut, allowing shards of dim light to
illuminate the room. The sofa sat in front of the
window, so I had to kneel on it and lean forward
toward the window. I could almost see through the

flimsy curtains, but not enough to get a clear view
across the street, where I knew the shadow would be
waiting.

I wanted to be able to speak to it without

having to actually stand in front of it. I wanted to tell it
that I was working toward forgiveness, that I was trying
to discover where Marcus was buried. But there was
no way I was going to venture outside. The situation
was only slightly bearable with a street and a wall of
house between us. Maybe it could read my thoughts.
Maybe it would understand that I was trying to
complete the task it needed me to do.

Stepping closer so that I was in arm’s

length of the window, I reached out and touched the
curtain. Then, before I could change my mind or back
away, I pushed it back and looked out into the night.

At first, all I could see was darkness. The

streetlight had turned off, which was strange. Then I
realized what I was looking at.

And what was looking back at me.
My eyes were not gazing out into a black

night. Instead, the creature had made its way to the
front porch and was now hunched directly in front of
the window. My breath froze inside my chest.
Screaming was not possible. Moving away from my
spot so close to the window was not possible. The

shadow creature had me locked in a terrified
paralysis. All I could do was stare at the hulking shape
in front of me.

It had no face. Or maybe it did—it

certainly had developed more of a human form—but I
could not identify any facial features. No eyes or nose
or mouth. And something about this fact made the
thing even worse.

“What are you?” My voice was a hoarse

whisper. That I had managed to force any words from
my mouth surprised me. And maybe it surprised the
thing, too, because it moved slightly to the side, as if
getting more comfortable. I knew it had heard me, and
I waited for an answer.

But the answer didn’t come. The creature

backed away from the window, drifting down the
porch steps and back into the street. It stopped at the
streetlight, then seemed to melt inside of it.

I remained at the window, despite my

pounding heart and shaking hands. I stayed because I
wanted to be sure it was gone for the night. And a tiny
part of my mind worried that as soon as I turned my
back, it would come running back up the porch.
Finally, I backed away, as well. I took small steps and I
didn’t stop until I bumped into Shane.

“Charlotte?” He sat up in his sleeping bag

on the floor.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “Didn’t mean to wake

you.”

“You okay?”
“Um, yeah. I’m fine. I came downstairs for

some water. Go back to sleep.”

But he was up now and turning on the

overhead light. “Let’s go in the kitchen.”

I followed him, grateful that I did not have

to return to my room and fight sleep that I knew
wouldn’t come. I was too rattled, too scared.

Shane poured me a glass of water and

sat down across from me at the kitchen table. “Bad
dream?” he asked.

I sipped my water. “Something like that.”
He didn’t ask me any more questions.

Instead, he let me sit quietly for a few more minutes,
then went upstairs. He came back down with pillows
and blankets and began spreading them across the
sofa. Then he moved his sleeping bag closer.

“I’m right here if you need anything,” he

said. I spent the night on the sofa with Shane a few
feet away, and despite his persistent snoring, I
actually got a little rest.

The next day I followed my routine, which

now included checking my phone as often as possible

to see if Zelden had returned my call. I resolved to
leave another message if I didn’t hear anything within
twenty-four hours.

My

long

weekend

getaway

was

approaching. I would miss Noah, but I was also
looking forward to spending time with my sister. In my
mind, I was halfway there.

In reality, I still had to endure two more

days of school—and Avery’s relentless badgering.
“There’s still time!” she pleaded. It was Monday, and I
was shoving books into my locker. A bright orange
poster advertising the Prom theme of “Caribbean
Nights” hung nearby. I tried not to look at it.

“Avery, I understand that this is a big deal

to you,” I said, shutting my locker. “But I can’t go. I just
can’t. Can you please respect that?”

She immediately softened. “You’re right.

I’m sorry, Charlotte.” She bit her lower lip. “But I
wanted us to have a great send-off. I wanted to make
a great memory, something good for you to
remember the end of our senior year.”

I smiled. “Thank you for that. But Prom

isn’t the end of the year. We’ll still have plenty of time
to make great memories.”

We began walking to class. “I need this,” I

said. “I need to get away for a few days. It’s important

to me.”

“Understood.” Avery reached over and

gave me a sideways hug. “And you’re right. We have
plenty of time to do something memorable before we
leave for college.”

College. It was a huge decision I had

been putting off. Deadlines inched by, and still, the
forms and acceptance letters sat on my desk,
untouched. I had applied to five schools and been
accepted to three. My top choice was out of state. But
now that Mom was hurt, was it really my top choice?
Priorities had changed, and location mattered more
than ever. I did not want to be studying in a dorm room
hours away if something happened. I needed to be
close by. School in Charleston was an option, which
was one reason my visit to Annalise was so important
to me. Was it a good fit? Could I belong there?

I met up with Noah at lunch. He knew

about my struggle to make a decision about college
and that I had only a few weeks left.

“How are you?” he asked as we sat down

at our table. Around us, the cafeteria buzzed with
voices and motion and the instantly recognizable
scent of French fries.

“Stressed.” I lifted the bun on my chicken

sandwich and removed the pickles. “There doesn’t

seem to be enough time to get everything done, and
I’m so far behind. Everyone else knows exactly where
they’re going to be in September. I’m clueless.”

Noah nodded. “There’s still time. Not

much, but enough to make a good decision.”

Across from us, our friends were chatting

about Prom. I tried to drown out the conversations
about silk clutches and perfectly-dyed pumps so I
could focus on Noah.

“What are you planning on doing in

Charleston?” he asked after taking a sip of milk.

“Tour the campus and spend time with my

sister, mainly. Maybe a little sunbathing.”

Noah swallowed his milk. “Um, do you

have a bikini for that?”

“Yes.” His voice sounded funny to me.
“What color is it?” His eyes were focused

on his carton of milk.

“It’s red. Why?”
“Red,” he murmured. “You in a red bikini.

Wow.”

I swatted his arm. “Mind out of the gutter,

please.”

“It’s not in the gutter,” he said. “It’s on the

beach, looking at you in a red bikini.”

I squeezed his knee under the table.

“You’ll have plenty of chances to see me in my bikini.”

He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

“Promise?”

Noah and I had been reserved in our new

relationship. With everything that was going on, it was
difficult for us to find time alone. I wanted to be close
to him, but the rare moments we had together were
often interrupted by an insistent cell phone or
concerns about my mom. It wasn’t fair to him—to us—
but he was patient and understanding with me. He
knew that I needed to keep my cell phone on, even
when we were locked in an embrace on the sofa.

A week earlier we had watched a cheesy

romantic comedy at my house. Dad was at the
hospital and our regular chaperones—Shane and
Trisha—were on a date themselves, so Noah and I
had a rare few hours to ourselves. The movie
provided an excuse to curl up on the sofa next to one
another. Every time the two confused main characters
kissed on screen, Noah would turn to me. “We can do
better than them,” he said. It became a joke with us. A
great joke.

But in the middle of one of our kisses, my

phone buzzed. I practically shoved Noah off me in a
rush to answer it, convinced that it was an update on
my mom. When it turned out to be Avery checking in, I

was disappointed. So was Noah, even though he
tried not to show it.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was worried.”
“I understand.” He ran a hand through his

hair and tried to smile. I wanted to put the interruption
behind us and resume kissing, but the movie was
over, and so was our opportunity.

“Great.” I slumped back on the sofa. “Our

one chance to be alone and I ruined it.”

He wrapped his arm around me. “We’ll

have other chances.” He kissed my neck lightly, and I
wondered if he was trying to tell me that our next
chance was right now.

Then the front door opened and Shane

and Trisha entered, holding hands and beaming.
Strike two, I thought. I can’t win at this game.

The lunch bell rang, pulling me out of my

memory. Noah took my tray from me and threw away
my trash while I waited for him. Then he walked me to
class. “We’ll get to see each other before you leave
on Wednesday, right?”

We were at my locker. “Of course. What’d

you have in mind?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed my shoulders.

“I’d like to plan something, though.”

I closed my eyes and sank into his touch.

“If it involves an hour-long shoulder rub, count me in.”

He kissed the back of my neck. “Done.”
A teacher passing by cleared his throat

and Noah stepped back from me. “Sorry,” he
muttered.

“Watch the PDA,” the teacher growled

before leaving.

“How about this?” Noah asked. “We could

go out to dinner on Tuesday. A nice dinner. I’ll wear a
tie, you wear a dress and it’ll be like Prom without the
dance.”

“Sounds nice.” I kissed his cheek. “You

pick the place, and I’ll be there.”

It was a great plan.
Which is exactly why it was doomed to fall

apart.

Chapter Five

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” I said to Avery. “Green
really is my color.”

She sighed in mock exasperation. “One

day you will realize that I am never wrong.” She
brushed invisible lint off the side of my dress as I
examined myself in the full-length mirror hanging from
my closet.

It was Tuesday. I was one hour away from

my date with Noah, and one night away from my
escape to Charleston. It would be perfect: Noah and I
would have hours of uninterrupted time together. Dad
was home so we could drive to the hospital in the
morning, where Annalise would meet us. We would
visit Mom, have lunch and then Annalise would take
me to Charleston for my long weekend away from the
shadow creature, school and all the other stress that
had been building walls around my life.

Avery had helped me select the green

strapless dress for the evening. It was a cotton
summer dress, but she assured me she could make it
look more formal.

“But not too formal,” I told her. “I have no

idea where Noah is taking me tonight.”

“But I do.” Avery smiled. “He asked for my

advice, and I made sure he picked the perfect place
for you two.”

I grabbed her hands. “Tell me.”
“No chance.” She shook me off and held

up a necklace. “Now come on, we need to finish your
look.”

I held up my hair while she fastened the

necklace, which consisted of six strands of tiny,
multicolored

beads.

Instantly,

the

ensemble

transformed from summer casual to evening elegant.

“You could wear this to prom,” Avery said

as she handed me a pair of silver strappy sandals. I
raised an eyebrow in response and she held up both
hands. “I know, I know. You’re not going. You can’t
blame me for trying.”

“No, but I can blame you for being a pest.”
She smiled. “A pest who knows how to

make you look amazing.”

As always, she was right. The simple

green dress looked great against my black hair, and
the jewelry elevated it from simple to stunning. I loved
it—and I knew Noah would, too.

“How much time do I have?” I adjusted the

necklace so that the layers were arranged just right.

“Twenty minutes.”
I turned around to look at Avery. “That

gives me enough time to convince you to tell me
where I’m headed tonight.”

She shook her head. “Nope. Consider it

payback for not letting me convince you to go to
Prom.”

Downstairs, the phone rang. For a

second, I worried that it might be Noah, calling to
cancel or postpone our date. But when I heard Dad
running up the stairs, I knew it was something much
worse.

Dad was frantic. Still holding the phone,

he rushed into my room to tell me that there was a
problem with Mom. “We need to get to the hospital,”
he said. “Now.”

I shot Avery a panicked look. She simply

nodded. “Go. I’ll stay here and explain to Noah. Call
when you can.”

“Okay.” I grabbed the duffel bag I had

packed for my trip to Charleston. It contained
everything I would need for an overnight visit, and
since it was already after seven, I knew I wouldn’t be
coming back before morning.

I ended up not coming back at all.

The car ride to the care center was a

slightly surreal experience. Usually, Dad played music
or one of his books on CD. This time, he was
absolutely silent. So was I, and it was because there
was nothing I could say to make things better. It was
out of our control. What if we got there too late?
Worse, what if we arrived seconds too late? Would
Dad blame me? He stayed home to make sure that
he could drive me to meet Annalise the next morning.
What if that decision cost him the chance to be with
Mom during her final moments alive?

Heading toward the center and not

knowing what waited for us once we got there was
absolute agony. The doctor who had called Dad said
only that Mom had “suffered a setback” and that we
needed to get there as soon as possible. Did doctors
take classes in how to be vague? Or did they know
that revealing bad news would be too traumatic for the
loved ones? I stared out the passenger side window,
knowing nothing could be more torturous than this
soundless trip.

Finally Dad pulled into the parking lot. He

shut off the engine but didn’t get out. I waited for him
to make the first move. I needed him to make the
decisions so I could follow.

“We’re here.” He stared out the

windshield. The sun had set. I knew there was a
galaxy of stars beyond the window, but the glare of the
hospital lights prevented me from seeing them.

I reached for Dad’s hand and squeezed.

“Let’s go.”

He squeezed back then opened his door.

It was time to face whatever lay inside the care center.
I held his hand as we walked across the parking lot. I
even scanned the sky at one point. Maybe I would see
a balloon, I thought. Maybe I would spot a sign telling
me that everything was okay. But there was nothing
but a dull dark canopy hanging over me.

A doctor was waiting for us on the second

floor. He told us that Mom had another scare but was
now stable, They would need to reevaluate her
medication again. I was relieved, but Dad was racked
with guilt that he hadn’t been there. He refused to
leave her side. We spent the night in her room, curled
up on the slippery vinyl chairs.

The next morning, Annalise picked me up.

After a quick breakfast with Dad in the hospital
cafeteria, we left for Charleston. I was still wearing the
green dress, which was now wrinkled. While Annalise
drove, I called Noah to let him know what was going
on and to apologize.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” he

said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I really wanted us to have a perfect

night.”

“So did I. We’ll just have to wait a little

longer, that’s all.”

He sounded positive, but I was sure I

heard a note of defeat in his voice. How many times
would we make plans to be together, only to have
those plans interrupted? It was like we were destined
to never be alone.

After I hung up with Noah, I checked my

message history and was surprised to find that I had
one voice mail waiting for me. It was from Zelden.
Sort of.

“This is Casey, Dr. Zelden’s personal

assistant,” a woman’s voice said. “He has received
your message but would like further clarification about
what you need from him. You may reach me at this
number within the next twenty-four hours.”

Angry and annoyed, I snapped my phone

shut. Zelden had his assistant call me back? After
everything that had happened, I wasn’t worth his time?
Annalise picked up on my quiet fury.

“You okay? Who was that on the phone?”
I sighed and let my head rest against the

window. “Wrong number.”

Maybe I didn’t need Zelden. Maybe

locating Marcus’s grave wasn’t as vital to banishing
the shadow creature as I thought. What was I going to
do if I located the grave? My plan had been to lay
some flowers on the ground and apologize, but that
didn’t seem like enough. What was the appropriate
apology to give a man whose life you had helped
end?

“I know you’ve had a really long night,”

Annalise said. We were approaching the long bridge
that would take us into Charleston. “How about we
grab some lunch and then you can rest?”

“Sounds good,” I mumbled.
After a nice lunch at one of my favorite

seafood restaurants, we went to Annalise’s
apartment. I really was tired, so I curled up on her bed
and took a nap. When I awoke, it was almost dark. My
head felt groggy as I shuffled into the kitchen.
Annalise had left a note on the counter.

Running errands. Back by seven.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost seven.

I returned to the bedroom and pulled out my phone,
then dialed Zelden’s number. Again, I was directed to
his voice mail.

“This is Charlotte,” I said, trying to keep

my voice calm. “I need you to call me back

immediately.” A thought occurred to me. “This is in
regard to Marcus. Call me back, or my family’s next
DVD will contain some bonus features you might not
be happy about.”

I had never threatened anyone before. I

felt badly, but it was an idle threat—I doubted my
family would ever release another DVD, much less
one that featured Zelden in any way. Still, I hoped it
was enough to finally force him to call me back.

While I waited for Zelden to call and my

sister to return home, I unpacked my duffel bag. The
sun had set, and I debated slipping on my pajamas,
even though I was no longer tired. As I turned to lower
the blinds, I glimpsed movement in the dark street.

Even before I saw it, I knew the shadow

creature had found me. It was taller now, more human.
I could almost make out the outline of a hat on its
head. And although it was standing stooped over, it
gaze directed toward the ground, I felt like it could see
me, like it knew I was watching.

The headlights from an approaching car

briefly illuminated the shape. When the car passed,
the creature was no longer hunched over; instead, it
was standing. Despite the fact that I could not see its
eyes, I knew it was looking at me,. My rapid breath
fogged the window, but still I watched. And then it

raised its long, dark arm and pointed.

I turned my head slightly, in the direction

that the creature was pointing. If I followed the street, it
would lead to Charleston Harbor. But there were so
many places in between the apartment and the
harbor, including several old cemeteries.

Where was I supposed to go? I looked

toward the creature again, but it was gone, again
leaving behind more questions than answers.

Chapter Six

My first day in Charleston did not provide the warm
and bright escape I had been looking forward to. For
one thing, it was raining. Hard. And my plan to spend
time with Annalise fell apart when she realized that the
major paper she thought was due in two weeks was
actually due in a few days. So I ended up spending
the morning after my arrival holed up in Annalise’s
apartment, flipping through the channels on her tiny
TV, listening to the rain pelt her windows and trying
not to think about the one thing that occupied my
brain.

The shadow creature had followed me to

Charleston.

I didn’t want to think about how, but I had

an image in my head of it running alongside the car
as Annalise and I drove down the rain-soaked
highway, an image that caused me to shudder. Of
course, that reaction was nothing compared to the
moment I saw it outside Annalise’s bedroom window,
pointing one dark, foggy finger into the distance.

Seeing the creature only a few hours after

my arrival affirmed my worst fear: I could not escape
the thing. Running from it would not work, and there
was no place to hide. It wanted something from me,
and I needed to figure out what that something was
before it became too big to avoid.

I glanced at the clock. Back at school, it

was already second period. I wanted to hear Noah’s
voice, though, so I called his cell. It went straight to
voice mail, but it was nice to hear a friendly hello. I left
a brief message telling him I missed him. It was funny
how when I was in class, all I could think about
sometimes was what I would be doing after the final
bell rang. But when I wasn’t in school, I thought about
what I would be doing if I was there, what classes I
would be sitting in or who I’d see at lunch. In a strange
way, I missed the familiar routine.

I called Avery. Surprisingly, she picked up.
“Aren’t you in class?”
“Hello to you, too, Charlotte. And no, I’m

not in class. I’m working on a Prom-related project, so
I got out of study hall. Speaking of which, have you
changed your mind about coming?”

I laughed. “Why? Are ticket sales slow?”
She scoffed. “Hardly. In fact, we sold out.

But I reserved two tickets just in case you change your
mind.”

“Thanks, but that wasn’t necessary.” Even

if I wanted to go, it was too late. Annalise was so busy
with school that she wouldn’t be able to drive me back
home and return in time for her deadline. And Noah
wouldn’t have time to rent a tux. I wasn’t going to
Prom, and that was final. A cheesy dance featuring
bad lighting and mediocre music was not the venue to
make lasting memories. I wasn’t missing anything. I
was simply avoiding a long, sentimental evening.

So why did I keep thinking about it?
Avery filled me in on the daily gossip,

which basically involved who was going to Prom and
the melodramatic meltdowns taking place in the girls’
bathroom.

“The entire sophomore class should be

committed,” she said. “They’re desperate for a date,
and every day they wear less and less. I swear, it’s
like a bathing suit competition over here.”

“Their desperation means that you’ve put

together an event people are dying to go to,” I said.
“That’s a good thing, right?”

“I guess.” She sighed. “When I decided to

serve as chairperson I didn’t think it would come with
all the drama. I thought it would be about selecting
main courses and table decorations.”

“You sound really stressed.” I wanted to be

there for my best friend the same way she had been
there for me. But I was over a hundred miles away.
There was nothing I could do except listen to her
justified complaints.

“It’s a dance,” Avery said. “I keep telling

myself that: it’s just a dance. But people have such
high expectations. They don’t see it as a dance. They
see it as a defining moment in their lives.”

I almost smiled. Did people really believe

that a defining moment was one that was meticulously
planned? Weren’t the truly important moments of our
lives the ones that happened almost accidentally,
without any preparation? I wasn’t ready for my mom to
get hurt. I wasn’t ready for my first kiss with Noah.
Those were defining moments, and I had stumbled
into them without planning my outfit or bringing a
camera.

“In the end, it will be a great evening,” I

reassured Avery. “People will remember it. They’ll talk
about it for years.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she admitted.

“If it’s great, I’m happy. If it’s a train wreck, I’ll have to
endure a legacy of organizing the worst prom ever.”

“Is it bad if I tell you that no one will really

remember ten years from now?”

“But they will!” I could almost see Avery

shake her head. “They’ll remember how they felt that
night.”

“You can’t control that. Whether or not they

have a good time is up to them. All you can do is
make sure the decorations are perfect and the food is
hot.”

“Yeah.” Avery was quiet. “You’re right. I

know you’re right. I can’t fix everything.”

“Focus on the things you can fix,” I said.

“Make it beautiful. That’s all you can do. And trust me,
you’re good at making things beautiful.”

She laughed, and the sound was a relief

to me. “Deal. Thanks, Charlotte. I’m glad you called.”

“Bye, Avery. Have a great day.”
“See you on Monday, Charlotte.”

Frustrated with my television options, I turned off the
TV. Outside, the rain showed no sign of letting up, and
although the weather was a good excuse to stay
inside, I had work to do. If Zelden wanted to ignore my
calls, I would have to track him down some other way.
And I knew the one person in town who could help me.

I searched the closets for an umbrella then

figured that if my sister had one, she had taken it with
her to class. I settled for a ball cap and a wrinkled

yellow poncho I found stuffed behind her winter gear.
No one would accuse me of good fashion sense in
the getup, although there was a chance I would be
mistaken for a crossing guard.

Luckily, I didn’t have to walk far. Annalise

had pointed out the library to me when we drove
through campus the night before. Three blocks and
one soaked poncho later, I arrived at the building. My
wet shoes squeaked across the shiny floor, causing
students to look up from their tables and glare at me. I
ignored their disapproving looks and hurried to the
main desk. “I’m looking for the genealogy room,” I
whispered to the student reading behind the counter.
He barely looked up.

“Upstairs, end of the hall.”
Relieved that he didn’t ask me for a

student ID and not wanting to attract more attention to
myself, I took the elevator. The quick ride gave me a
chance to wring the water out of my baseball cap. It
left a dark puddle, and I hoped the serious-looking
students who got on when I stepped out didn’t think I’d
peed the floor.

The genealogy room occupied a small

corner at the end of the hall. It was decorated with old
photographs showing the construction of the library in
its different stages. I was the only one in the room, so I

spent time examining each of the framed black-and-
white pictures until a woman walked into the room.

“May I help you?” Her question was

marked with both surprise and suspicion. I guessed
not many students visited the place.

“I’m looking for Mills Davidson,” I said.

“He’s kind of helping me with a project.”

“He’s in the basement right now. Perhaps

I could assist you with this project?”

I wasn’t planning on this. Mills was the only

one I trusted to help me. Anyone else might think I was
a stalker.

“Um, do you know when he might be

available?”

The woman frowned. “I could call him for

you, I suppose, Miss?”

“Charlotte Silver.”
A smiled replaced her frown. “Are you

Annalise’s sister?”

I nodded.
“She’s been talking about your visit! We

adore Annalise here. She brings us bagels every
Monday.” The woman went to her desk, hit a button on
the phone and asked Mills to come upstairs. “I’m so
sorry to hear about your mother, dear. My prayers are
with your family.”

“Thank you.” Her words were kind, but

they also made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how
to respond. Thankfully, Mills arrived a moment later.

“Charlotte!” He gave me a quick hug.

“Tired of being cooped up in the apartment, huh?”

“Yeah.” The woman was still at her desk

and I needed to speak with Mills alone. I lowered my
voice. “Actually, I need your help with something.”

“Sure.” He looked over at the woman.

“Sue, I noticed a problem downstairs. Someone is
stacking the census reports instead of shelving them.”

“What?” Sue got up from her desk. “How

many times I have I told them not to do that?”

She rushed out of the room, muttering

something about careless student workers.

I smiled. “You certainly know how to clear

a room.”

Mills shrugged. “One of my many gifts.

Let’s sit down and you can tell me what’s going on.”

We sat across from each other at the

wide wooden table in the center of the room. “So, I
know you’re an expert at research and finding people
online,” I began. “And I need information about
someone. The thing is, I really don’t want anyone to
know about this. Not even Annalise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t keep

secrets from your sister.”

“I know.” I looked down at my hands. “But

it’s not exactly a secret. I just don’t want you to tell her
yet.”

“Why don’t you explain what you need,

and I’ll let you know if I can keep it quiet for a little
while.”

“Okay.” What I wanted was simple. Asking

for it was not. “I need to know where Marcus is
buried.”

“Marcus?”
“Marcus Archer, the guy I—the guy who

died.”

“I see.” Mills took off his black glasses,

inspected them then put them back on. “Charlotte, I’m
not sure that’s a good idea.”

His reaction was a possibility I had

considered, so I had my rationale ready.

“I can’t stop thinking about him, about who

he was. And I don’t think I can move on until I know
more.”

“How would that help?” Mills asked. “What

if it makes you feel even worse?”

I looked at him. “I can’t feel worse. Please

believe me, Mills. I cannot. Feel. Worse.”

My words had an effect. He frowned, but I

could tell he was thinking about it. “I’m guessing
you’ve already done a basic search online?”

“I found his obituary, but it doesn’t say

where he’s buried. But it did say that Zelden held a
memorial service at his house. So I was thinking you
could track down Zelden for me.”

I explained that I had tried calling

numerous times but hadn’t been able to get through. If
Mills could find out where Zelden was—I thought he
might be holding one of his seminars somewhere—
then I could call his hotel and let him know that I wasn’t
giving up.

Sue returned from the basement and sat

down at her desk. Mills glanced at her then turned
back to me. “Charlotte, I don’t like this.” His voice was
soft. “Before I agree to help you, I want you to answer
me this: what do you want to accomplish?”

I wanted to make the shadow creature go

away. But that wasn’t the answer I gave Mills.

“I’m hoping to find closure.”
I thought it was the right answer, the one

Mills would respond to. But he didn’t say anything for
a while.

“So,” I prodded. “Will you help me find

Zelden?”

“No.” Before I could say anything else,

Mills stood up. “But I’ll take you to Marcus.”

Chapter Seven

The Courtyard Café looked like I remembered it. The
small yellow building was surrounded by a wide porch
and leafy bushes of blue hydrangea. For some
reason, this surprised me. I had changed since my
last visit here—shouldn’t the place have changed,
too?

I followed Mills onto the porch. He had

insisted we have lunch together so we could talk
some more. I was still trying to figure out how he knew
where Marcus was buried, but Mills wasn’t saying
anything yet.

Once inside the Café, I was pleased to

discover that it was quiet, with only a few tables
occupied. A perky waitress with a thick southern
accent showed us to a small table. It was next to a
window, which I liked. I removed my cap and ran a
hand through my still-wet hair, scattering rain droplets
on the menu.

“Get anything you’d like,” Mills said. “My

treat.”

I already knew what I wanted. There was

only one thing I craved when I visited Charleston:
shrimp and grits. Mills ordered the same.

While we waited for our food, I watched

the people on the street. Black umbrellas seemed to
sail down the street as anxious tourists rushed to their
destinations. People tried to snap pictures without
getting their cameras wet, which was awkwardly
funny.

“Do you remember your first visit here?”

Mills asked.

I turned my gaze away from the window.

“Yes.”

It was the previous summer. My family

was working on a new DVD, and my sister and I were
helping. But our experience at the Courtyard Café
was an unsettling one. Nothing had been the same
since.

“Does it feel different?”
It didn’t. There was no echo of the chilling

cold I had once experienced, no remnants at all of my
encounters in this place. It was a strange relief.

Our food arrived. Mills and I ate in silence,

and I liked to think it was because we were both
enjoying the food so much. But I knew he was getting
ready to tell me what he knew—and why he knew it.
After all, Mills had never met Marcus—or Dr. Zelden,

for that matter—so how was he connected to either of
them?

“I attended the memorial service,” Mills

said. I looked up, surprised. “For Marcus,” he
clarified. “I was there, at Zelden’s estate.”

His statement was so unexpected that I

could do nothing but stare at him, my brow wrinkled in
confusion.

“After everything that happened, Zelden

began calling your house. Sometimes three, four
times a day,” Mills went on. “He was really worried.”

“Only about himself,” I muttered. He sure

wasn’t in any rush to answer my calls.

“Trisha answered most of the calls, but

sometimes I did, too.” He shrugged. “And you’re right.
He was concerned about what we would tell the police
and if we were going to include anything about him on
the next DVD.

“But he was also dealing with Marcus’s

death and his own injuries.” Mills poked his fork into
his half-empty dish of grits. I had thoroughly devoured
mine.

“When he told me there would be a

memorial service, I offered to go so I could represent
your family.”

“I had no idea.”

“Good.” Mills nodded. “You were all going

through so much. I wanted to handle something, you
know?”

He talked briefly about the service itself.

Zelden was there, of course, along with his new
assistant. A few friends from the area had shown up.
Marcus’s older brother was also there, but not his
father. There were some prayers and a few readings
from the Bible. It lasted less than an hour.

I leaned forward. “So where is he buried?”
Mills smiled sadly. “He’s not.”
“I don’t—”
“Charlotte, he was cremated. His ashes

were scattered.”

Why hadn’t I considered that possibility?

All this time I had been looking for a gravestone. What
could I do now that there was no final resting place?
How could I get the shadow creature to leave me in
peace if I couldn’t pay my respects?

“You told me you could take me to

Marcus,” I reminded him.

“I know where some of his ashes were

scattered.” Mills said that while his brother had taken
an urn home to be buried in Michigan, Zelden had
kept some of the ashes. The small group attending
the memorial service had traveled to the Charleston

Harbor, near the aquarium, to scatter those ashes on
the water.

“If you’re ready, we can go right now,” Mills

offered. “It’s not a long walk.”

But I wasn’t ready. I wanted to arrive

prepared, with a bouquet of flowers and a few nice
words to say. I wanted to do this right, so the shadow
creature would have no excuse to keep tormenting
me.

“Tomorrow,” I decided. “Can we do it

tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.” As he opened his wallet to

pay our bill, I caught a glimpse of the shiny silver
fragment of balloon he kept there. Maybe that was my
sign that I was doing the right thing, the necessary
thing. I hoped so.

“I miss you.”

I smiled into the phone. “I miss you, too,

Noah.”

It was just before dinner. I had stepped out

of a hot shower and into a fluffy robe when my cell
phone rang. I rubbed a towel to my wet hair as Noah
talked about his day. I loved the little details: the pop
quiz in history, the chicken tenders served at lunch. I

loved his voice. He could recite the phone book and I
would like it.

“What about you?” he asked. “How’s

Charleston?”

“Wet.” A quick glance toward the window

showed me that the storm showed no signs of letting
up. The sky had deepened from a pale gray to a deep
granite. Black clouds moved fast across the sky, as if
they were being chased by something even darker.

“Tell me more about school.” I wanted to

simply listen, without having to talk too much in return.
Everything I needed to say to Noah felt like it had to
be done in person.

“Prom mania has gotten worse,” Noah

said. “It’s like a disease around here. The freshmen
girls are basically wearing bathing suits trying to get a
junior to ask them to go.”

I laughed. “I hope they’re not coming after

you.”

“I think they know that the only girl I want to

see in a bathing suit is you.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt I’ll get a chance to

wear mine. This rain isn’t supposed to let up until
Saturday night.”

“Prom night.” He said it quietly, almost like

he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

“You didn’t want to go, did you?” I felt a

twinge of guilt. Was Prom more important to him than
it was to me?

“No, not at all.” He gave a short laugh. “I

really didn’t want to rent a tux.”

“Okay.” But something in his voice struck

me as being off.

I didn’t have a chance to ask him anything

more. Annalise came home, dripping wet and
cradling a soggy bag of groceries. “Sorry I’m late. It’s
awful out there.”

“Noah? I have to go. Talk with you

tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. Say hi to Annalise for me.”
I said goodbye, dressed quickly and

joined my sister in her little kitchen. “Special dinner for
us tonight,” she said as she unloaded the grocery
bag. “You like rainbow trout?”

“I think so.” Truthfully, I couldn’t tell most

fish apart. As long as it was served with sauce and
lacked tiny bones, it was fine with me. I grabbed a pot
for the rice while Annalise arranged ingredients on the
counter.

“What did you do today?”
I measured three cups of water and turned

on the stove. “Besides trying to avoid drowning? I

went to the library and had lunch with Mills.”

She smiled. “That’s nice. He’s stopping by

later with dessert.”

The water was boiling, so I dumped in the

box of rice pilaf and placed a lid on the pot. Annalise
hummed as she sautéed butter and chopped some
parsley.

“This

is

a special dinner,” I said. “When

did you become so fancy?”

She shook her head. “Using fresh herbs

does not make me fancy. Tell me more about your
day while you cut this into wedges.” She handed me a
ripe lemon.

“We had lunch at the Courtyard Café.”
“You did?”
I cut the lemon in half and pried some of

the seeds out with my knife. “Yeah. It was nice,
actually.”

“I know. I’ve been back there, too.”
This surprised me. It was less than a year

ago that Annalise had declared she would never, ever
return to the place where she had once felt overcome
with sadness. In fact, her experience at the Café
resulted in a serious threat to leave my family’s
paranormal investigations behind forever. At the time,
I didn’t understand her fierce fear. But now, I knew

exactly what it was like to want to turn away from our
family’s work. With Mom absent, I had no desire to
return to the occupation that had made up so much of
my life. That part of me was also absent.

Satisfied with my lemon wedges, I leaned

against the counter to watch Annalise finish preparing
dinner. “Why did you go back?” I asked.

She flipped the fish filets with a spatula. “I

wanted to know that it was over. I wanted to walk
through those doors and not feel anything.”

“And?”
“And it was fine. A nonevent. I walked in,

ate a meal and left without ever once feeling anything
strange. Case closed.” She turned to me. “Grab some
plates. Dinner’s almost done.”

As I set the table, I mulled over Annalise’s

words and my brief visit to the Café. I hadn’t felt
anything, either. And if the occurrences we had
experienced there could fade completely, so could my
encounters with the shadow. Still, I wondered what the
shadow was, exactly.

My family believed that people could leave

behind an imprint of intense feelings after they died.
Fear or terror was sometimes strong enough to echo
for years, and so was simple repetition. We had
investigated places where a rocking chair would

move nearly every day at the same time, or a window
would open and shut almost on a schedule. It fit with
our theories that someone experiencing profound
regret or guilt could also leave a trace of that emotion
behind. Was the entity that was haunting the night
simply the residual energy of my own remorse? Or
was it more connected to Marcus’s energy?

The shadow creature’s presence in my life

was tied to Marcus. It had to be. But if my search for
answers led nowhere, what would I do? Was I
destined to be followed by the eerie, unpredictable
being for the rest of my life? Maybe pursuing Marcus
was a bad idea. What if it was better to leave his
ghost alone?

Annalise brought dinner to the table.

“Smells great,” I said.

“I feel bad that our plans have been

derailed.” She scooped rice onto her plate. “I had our
entire weekend mapped out, but between this
weather and my class paper, it’s fallen apart.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t mind having

the apartment to myself. It was kind of nice to be
alone. I missed Noah and Avery, but I couldn’t
remember the last time I’d had hours of quiet time,
away from my house and the memories it held.

Mills arrived as we were finishing dinner.

He carried a bouquet of white lilies in one hand and a
key lime pie in the other. Annalise beamed as she
took the flowers from him and kissed his cheek.

Mills took off his wet jacket and began

slicing the pie. Annalise went to find a vase for her
flowers. “I haven’t said anything to Annalise about our
plans for tomorrow,” he said to me. “But I don’t like
keeping secrets, so I’m going to tell her after you’re
back home.”

“Okay.” I appreciated his discretion. I

didn’t want my sister to worry.

Annalise returned with the vase. “I have to

meet my study group at noon tomorrow. Do you have
plans?”

“I’m off tomorrow.” Mills slid slices of the

dark yellow pie onto plates. “I thought Charlotte and I
could go to the aquarium.”

Annalise kissed his cheek again. “Have I

told you lately that I think you’re the world’s most
amazing boyfriend?”

Mills blushed and adjusted his glasses.

“Um, no.”

“Well, you are.”
I looked away as Annalise nuzzled his

neck. Their intimacy made me long for Noah. After
dessert, I left Annalise and Mills in the living room so

they could have their privacy.

I flipped open my phone. Still no call from

Zelden. Not that it mattered now, but it would have
been nice if he could have acknowledged me. I hated
being brushed off. I looked out the rain-streaked
window in Annalise’s bedroom. Night had fallen while
we had been having dinner, and a soft amber glow
from the lamp posts outside filled the room. I stood up
and went to the window so I could gaze out onto the
empty street.

The glass was foggy with condensation. I

wiped my hand against it, smearing the cold water in
an arc. The fuzzy orange light of the lamppost
illuminated the wet street but nothing more. I focused
on the slender black steel, an elegant reminder of
Charleston’s history.

And then I saw the shadow.
Like a swift animal, the black shape

sailed past the light. I should have been expecting a
visit, should have known it would still be there. Again,
it looked up at me and pointed toward the harbor.

“I know,” I whispered.
My ragged breath fogged the window, and

when I wiped at the glass, the shadow was gone,
vanished into the curtain of night. I hoped it would be
the final time I would ever see the thing.

Chapter Eight

Friday morning arrived wrapped in a blanket of fog. I
liked it. There was something strangely graceful in the
way the white mist curled itself around the streetlights.

Annalise had prepared pancakes for

breakfast. She was slicing strawberries onto the
warm golden discs when I entered the kitchen.

“You seriously didn’t need to go to all this

trouble.” I sat down at the table. “I’m fine with cereal.”

“Well, I’m not.” My sister set a plate in front

of me. “This is my way of trying to apologize for
abandoning you again today.”

“No apologies necessary. Besides, I’m

hanging out with Mills today.” And hopefully saying
goodbye to the shadow creature. I had spent half the
night going over the words I would say when we
reached the harbor, a final goodbye to Marcus that
combined my sincere apology with hope for an end to
things.

After breakfast Annalise hurried off to her

first class while I got ready for the day. Mills had
offered to pick me up, but I told him that as long as it

wasn’t raining, I preferred to walk to the harbor.

It was a good decision. The air was fresh

from days of rain, and I loved walking through the thick
fog. Even though the harbor was located over a mile
away, I was early.

Mills had said he would meet me outside

the aquarium. He hadn’t arrived yet, so I looked out
over the pale brown water of Charleston Harbor and
enjoyed my moment alone. It was still early enough
that the city hadn’t been invaded yet by eager tourists,
and I was content to stare at the gently moving waves
and bobbing boats. Was I also looking at some of
Marcus’s ashes? Realistically, I knew it wasn’t
possible, but it was interesting to think about. Or
maybe simply sad—I wasn’t sure.

“Am I late?” Mills pulled me out of my quiet

thoughts and I turned to greet him with a quick hug. He
handed me a bouquet of white tulips. “I thought these
would be appropriate,” he said. “We can toss them
onto the water.”

I was glad he had thought of that detail. It

would make everything more formal, more official, in a
way. “Is this the spot?”

He gestured down the harbor, at the other

end of the aquarium. “It was this way.”

We walked side by side, with me cradling

the tulips. It was our own little funeral procession, in a
way, and I tried to focus on what we were here to do. I
had found a few poems online that I could read,
somber and respectful. I hoped it would be enough.

We reached the other side of the harbor.

Away from the aquarium, there were fewer cars and
people. Even though it was still early, I could see
bright yellow school buses pulling into the aquarium’s
parking lot. Soon there would be crowds of tourists
and eager children. I wanted to be done with our task
by then, done with everything.

“We scattered most of his ashes right

here,” Mills said. I looked out at the calm water. White
gulls drifted above us. I breathed in the seaweed-
scented air and tried to focus. I wasn’t sure where to
begin. Mills seemed to sense my uncertainty.

“Why don’t I give you a few moments by

yourself?” He smiled. “That way you can say whatever
you need to say. I’ll wait over there.” He nodded
toward the aquarium parking lot.

“Sure.” Mills had gotten me this far. I

needed to do the rest on my own.

After waiting a few moments until I was

sure there was no one near me, I pulled out the slip of
notebook paper tucked inside my jacket. On it I had
copied a poem I liked, but as I began reading softly,

the words felt wrong in my mouth. Was I really here to
read poetry into the breeze? No. I was here to ask for
forgiveness, to beg for it. I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry you died because of me,” I

whispered. “I’m sorry you had to die like that,
surrounded by violence. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.
I’m sorry—” I looked down at the tulips. They were so
flawless, so perfectly white. I stretched out my arm
and dropped them into the water below. “I’m sorry.”

A few minutes later, Mills came up behind

me. “How do you feel?”

I stared at the tulips as they were carried

by the water. More than anything I wanted to be able
to tell Mills that I felt better. I wanted to have
experienced some sense of closure and relief. But I
didn’t. I felt absolutely nothing except for my guilt,
which was still as strong and present as ever.

Mills gave me a ride back to the

apartment. Once inside, I tried calling both Noah and
Avery, but my calls went straight to voice mail. As I
debated what to do with my open afternoon, my
phone buzzed. I answered it, expecting Noah or
Avery, but it was Zelden’s assistant again. I cut her off
before she could speak. “Tell him to forget it,” I said. “I
don’t need him.” Funny how I thought Zelden would be
the one with the answers, when it was Mills who had

really helped me.

I plopped in front of the TV. It began to rain

again, so hard I had to turn up the volume on the TV to
block out the insistent banging of raindrops against
the window. Annalise called.

“My study group will be over by four and

then I promise it’s just you and me for the rest of the
night.”

“Great. See you then.”
“Okay.” She paused. “I’m really sorry—”
“Stop. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
It wasn’t, but that wasn’t my sister’s fault. It

was mine. I knew somehow, in my core, that I had
failed. My weak attempt at apologizing to the spirit of
Marcus had not worked, and the shadow would be
making another visit soon. Since I was going home in
twenty-four hours, I would need to spend my last day
in Charleston tucked inside the library, searching for
better ways to solve my problem. Maybe Mills would
help me again. And Noah—I knew Noah would help in
any way he could.

Or maybe I should just leave. My brief

vacation had gone badly. If Annalise wasn’t going to
be away for most of the day, I would have asked her
to take me home now. Then I could crash the Prom
with Noah. Avery would be thrilled, and maybe I would

end up with an evening of decent memories instead
of a long weekend full of depressing ones.

When Annalise got home we ordered a

pizza and settled on the sofa to watch a movie. She
fell asleep halfway through, though, so I cleaned up
our mess and then woke her so she could go to bed. I
knew I couldn’t go to sleep yet—not until I confirmed
whether or not the shadow would be outside the
window.

I was betting it would.
I forced myself to look out the window

every half hour, convinced that I needed to simply get
the encounter out of the way. It was my new abnormal
routine, one that I was stuck with for the foreseeable
future.

By ten, I was checking outside the living

room window every fifteen minutes. By eleven, I was
pacing the room. Why was it taking so long? I felt a
glimmer of optimism. Had my little ceremony actually
worked?

Another hour passed, and another.

Outside, the rain had reduced to a soft drizzle. The
streets were empty of people and cars and
mysterious shadow beings. My eyes grew heavy and I
wanted to go to bed, to slip under the blankets next to
my sister and sleep until late morning or early

afternoon. I would wait one more hour, I decided. If the
shadow did not appear, I would know that I had been
successful and I would rest better than I had in
months.

I crept into Annalise’s room. Judging from

her heavy, rhythmic breathing was sound asleep. I
quickly brushed my teeth, slipped into a T-shirt and
got ready for bed. But it hadn’t been exactly an hour,
so I returned to the living room to take one final peek
out of the window.

Nothing. There was nothing there. The

streetlight glowed, illuminating a sprinkle of raindrops,
not even enough to be called a drizzle. I breathed in,
relieved. I had not felt anything during my goodbye to
Marcus, but my actions had been enough to appease
the shadow creature. I was free.

I reached over and turned off the lamp.

Then I turned around.

And sucked in my breath so I wouldn’t

scream.

The shadow creature was standing in the

tiny kitchen, only a few feet from me. I moved back,
trying to put distance between us. It was huge, a dark
giant whose head grazed the ceiling of the apartment.
And as I moved back, it moved forward.

“No,” I whispered. “No.”

It was supposed to be outside. There was

supposed to be a window and a wall of bricks
separating us. Now there was nothing. It glided
forward. I wanted to look away, but I felt completely
transfixed by this thing that had no face and no real
body. It possessed only a humanlike shape but no
features that I could discern.

My fear gave way to incredulous anger. It

had crossed a boundary. I thought we had some sort
of deal: it stayed outside and I remained inside and
every night made sure to acknowledge its growing
presence. And now it was here, in my sister’s cozy
apartment while she slept in the next room. It wasn’t
right. It wasn’t fair.

“I tried.” My voice was hoarse, a heated

whisper. “I apologized to Marcus. I did my best. I don’t
know what else I can do.”

Had it grown bigger as I spoke? It

seemed like it, but I couldn’t be sure. It took another
gliding step forward. Again, the action triggered
intense anger in me.

“It wasn’t my fault!” I wasn’t yelling, but my

voice was definitely louder. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t.”

The shadow stopped. I blinked, and it

seemed that it had actually shrunk a little. Its head no
longer touched the ceiling.

“His death was not my fault,” I repeated.

The shadow stopped moving. I stared hard,
convinced that it had decreased in size yet again. Not
a lot, as it was still tall and imposing, but now the top
of the shadow was level with the fridge.

“I did not kill Marcus. I am not

responsible.”

Now the shadow was lighter, not as thick. I

could almost see through it as it stood still, centered
in the kitchen. My words were having a strangely
positive effect, and the shadow didn’t seem to mind. It
was as if he wanted to diminish, wanted to disappear
completely.

I continued to speak, to say the same few

sentences over and over. My voice gained a calm
strength each time I said the words aloud. I wasn’t
simply repeating the words, though. I was trying to
believe them. I could almost hear the voices of my
friends and family, who had tried so hard to
encourage me to let go of my guilt. There was still so
much of it burrowed inside me, but maybe I could let
go of this one piece. It was a huge piece, and too
much for me to carry around forever. I had looked
outside of myself for a way to let go, reaching out to
Mills and even Zelden. But in the end, no one could
give me what I had to give myself.

Forgiveness.
“I did not kill him.”
The shadow became dimmer and smaller

until it was merely a dark ball hovering near the stove.

Cautiously, I approached it and reached

out my arm. My hand went through it. I felt a coldness,
as if I was plunging my fingers into snow.

“I am not guilty,” I murmured.
The small shadow curled up until it fit into

the palm of my hand. I gazed down at it, amazed and
confused.

But not afraid.
I blew on it lightly, as if I was blowing a

kiss, and it was gone.

Chapter Nine

“Where are we going again?”

My sister frowned. “No talking until I’ve

finished your makeup.”

I was perfectly capable of applying my

own makeup, but Annalise had insisted. I guessed it
was another way for her to relieve her guilt over not
being around during my visit. We were going to a
special dinner, she said. Then she ironed my wrinkled
green dress and ordered me into a chair so she could
make sure I looked “my best.”

“I’m happy going to one of our regular

places,” I told her as she brushed eye shadow over
my lids. “It doesn’t need to be fancy.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to look good for

this.”

“And I only look good in a dress and

foundation?”

She shook her head. “Stop trying to pick a

fight with me. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes and it’s
going to be great.”

“Okay, but you’re not all that dressed up,” I

pointed out.

She handed me a tissue. “Here. Blot your

lips.”

I did as I was told. Annalise inspected her

work and, apparently satisfied, decided to get herself
dressed. I waited in the living room. It was amazing to
me that only hours earlier I had confronted the shadow
in the kitchen, that I had found a way to end my night
stalker. My own guilt had created it. My own words
sent it away.

I had tried calling Noah several times

earlier in the day to tell him all about my encounter, but
my calls kept going to voice mail until finally a
computerized voice told me that his mailbox was full.
He had probably left his phone at school, I thought. I
would see him in less than twenty-four hours, though.
My story could wait until then.

When my sister emerged from her

bedroom, she was nowhere near as dressed up as
me. Instead, she wore a short denim skirt and a T-
shirt.

“Seriously?” I got off the sofa. “If that’s

what you consider formal, I’m throwing on a pair of
jeans.”

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Annalise grabbed her

purse. “We have to go. I don’t want you to be late.”

I hurried after her. “Don’t you mean you

don’t want

us

to be late?” She ignored me. We got

into her car, and for a split second I wondered if she
was taking me back home so I could go to the Prom.
But a glance at the clock told me that wouldn’t be
possible: it was already nine, and even if we left now,
we wouldn’t make it until nearly midnight.

Besides, I realized, we weren’t headed

away from town. We were driving toward the beach.
Maybe she was taking me to an elegant seafood
restaurant. But soon we had passed the glowing
signs of the stores and restaurants with which I was
familiar.

“This place is really out of the way,” I said

as we continued to drive toward the water. Annalise
turned near the aquarium and parked. The building
was dark except for a few outdoor lights.

“We’re here.”
I got out of the car. It wasn’t until I shut the

door and heard it lock behind me that I realized
Annalise hadn’t turned off the engine. She rolled down
the passenger window. “Have a great evening,
Charlotte.” She smiled in a way that told me this had
all been a trap, that I had been set up for something
positively devious.

“What’s going on?”

Instead of answering, my sister simply

drove away, leaving me stranded in the empty parking
lot. I watched as she drove away, half expecting to
see the glow of her brake lights, followed by the white
reverse lights as she came back to explain the joke.
But when she turned out of the parking lot and
disappeared onto a side street, I knew I was stuck.

What was I supposed to do? Walk back to

her apartment at night? Not that I was afraid of the
shadow any longer. My concerns had more to do with
drunk tourists and the physical pain of walking over a
mile in heels. If Annalise was playing a joke, it wasn’t
funny. In fact, I was mad.

“Charlotte?”
I turned around, and even though it was

difficult to see Noah’s face in the darkness, I knew his
voice. I ran to him, excited and giddy and shocked. I
hugged him hard then pulled back.

“You’re wearing a suit.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have time to get a

tux. This will have to do.”

“You’re my dinner date?”
“No.” He smiled. “I’m your Prom date.

Come on.”

He took my hand firmly in his and led me

away from the parking lot. We followed a narrow

concrete path down to the beach. Once we hit sand, I
stopped and took off my uncomfortable shoes. Noah
did the same, but he also took off his socks. And then
we walked, barefoot, onto the cool sand.

I wanted to stop, but Noah kept walking.

He seemed to know where we were going, so I let him
lead the way. After a minute, we reached our
destination—and I gasped.

Thick candles had been lined up in the

sand. Each one glowed with a tiny flame. Beyond
them, soft waves licked the beach. I could see a small
box near the middle of the space illuminated by the
light. Noah leaned over and pressed a button. Music
filled the air.

“You did this for me?”
He kissed my cheek. “Happy Senior

Prom, Charlotte.”

He pulled me close and we began to

dance to the music. “If I didn’t mention it before, you
look amazing,” he whispered into my ear.

I smiled and rested my cheek against his

shoulder. “And if I haven’t said it yet, thank you.”

I don’t know how long we danced. Hours,

probably. I do know that when I looked up at the sky, I
could see a million brilliant stars.

And one lone balloon, drifting toward the

heavens.

Don’t miss the rest of Mara Purnhagen’s Past

Midnight series, available wherever books are

sold from Harlequin TEEN:

Past Midnight

Raising the Dead

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One Hundred Candles

Beyond the Grave

Also available from Mara Purnhagen and

Harlequin TEEN

Tagged

Mara Purnhagen cannot live without a tall caramel
latte, her iPod or a stack of books on her nightstand.
She has lived in Aurora, Illinois; Kalamazoo,
Michigan; Dayton, Ohio, and Duncan, South Carolina.
She currently lives outside Cleveland, Ohio, with her
family, two cats and a well-meaning ghost who likes to
open the kitchen windows.

Visit

Mara

online

at

her

website

www.marapurnhagen.com and her Facebook page
www.facebook.com/mara.purnhagen

ISBN: 978-1-4592-0902-2

Haunting the Night

Copyright © 2010 by Mara Purnhagen

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Table of Contents

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
About the Author