“The bleach on the floor, and she went missing the night of the party.”

            “We don’t know that. Anyway, we can pull them both in for questioning.” Officer Holt slammed the door, and whatever else she’d been about to say is lost to me.

            “Party got out of control then.” Love gets in the car and shuts the door behind him. I scream at him, “Yes! Yes that’s right!” But he doesn’t hear me. I want to pound on his window, I want to reach in and shake him, but the car is pulling out of the driveway, driving backwards away from me. “Come back!” I’m screaming now. “Come back! You can’t leave me here!”

            There’s a pause, and the car slows down and for a second hope bubbles up inside me. They’ve heard me. They’re stopping!

But then the sirens flick on, blue and red spinning in wailing rotations and the car is roaring away down the street. They’re responding to another call. They’re not even thinking about me anymore.

I can’t feel the driveway when I drop to my knees. I should feel rough cement pressing into my skin. I should feel rocks digging into the palms of my hands. But I don’t. All I feel is the breath hitching in my throat and the tears that rolls down my cheeks and off the end of my nose.

It isn’t fair.

            Finally I cave in and go see Sam, giving into the longing. I don’t care if he talks about the shadow again. I have to see him. Maybe he’ll hold me and take my mind off of all this.

Just hearing the steady rush of the river lifts my spirits, because I associate it with him now. Birds dart from branch to branch in the cradle of the forest above me, and the sun slips through the thick trees and baths the forest path in beams of yellow light. I take a deep breath, inhaling fresh air and the smell of pine needles, feeling my shoulders relax for the first time in ages.

His name is on my lips as I push my way past the trees circling the clearing, but he’s already there waiting for me. As I get closer my heart sinks. I can see something is wrong with him.. In the orange light of the sunset it’s like my eyes are blurry, but only when I look at him. The edges of his body are undefined, blending in with his surroundings. He looks frightened.

            “Sam,” I gasp, “what’s happening to you?” When I grab his hand it’s colder then usual and he grimaces and says, “I can barely feel you.”

            “What is it?” Dread courses through me. “What’s going on?”

            He hesitates. “I’m…I think I’m fading. I feel like something is pulling me to cross over, stronger then before. Bree, I think…I think my time is running out.”

            Anxiety twists my stomach. “What do you mean running out? How can that be?”

            He shrugs helplessly. “Now that you’re not alive, my tether to you is broken, and the tether to the river was never very strong. Maybe because I don’t have anything tying me to this world anymore. I suppose it was only a matter of time until this started happening. I just didn’t think it would be so quickly.”

            I bite my lip in distress. “How much longer do you have?”

            He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Days…hours maybe. I keep resisting crossing over, maybe this is what happens when you stay in this world for too long.” Sam’s face is grave. “It will happen to you too, if we don’t cross over. Please come with me.”

            The thought of Sam fading away sends a drop of cold down my spine, shivering I say in a hushed voice, “I…I don’t know…my family…”

            “I won’t last long.” There’s pleading in his voice, and it breaks my heart.  What will I do if he fades to nothing and I’m left here by myself with no one to talk to? Nobody would ever see me again. Sam grips my hand. His touch is so firm and solid, but the warmth is gone, like his life is slowly draining away.  It makes my chest ache. I can’t loose him. Even if it means not knowing if my murder will ever be discovered. I can’t lose Sam.

            Taking a deep breath I say, “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

            His face lights up, and he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him. Hastily I add, “Just let me say goodbye to my parents, and Bree. I need to see them one last time.”

            Sam nods. “I understand. I’ll be waiting here for you.”

            “Stay strong.” I grip his hand fiercely. “Don’t you dare fade away without me.”

            My parents. How do you say goodbye to the two people that raised you and cared for you your entire life? How do you leave them, not knowing if you’ll ever see them again? A million thoughts rush through my head as I watch them eat breakfast together. They’ll eventually die too, but does that mean I’ll see them again? What if the other side is so huge that you never find people? What if it’s some vast, open space where people just float around and don’t recognize one another? Will the afterlife be terrible? My stomach is clenching, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

I try to push those thoughts from my mind and concentrate on my parent’s faces. They eat in silence for the most part, other than requests to pass the butter, and once Dad comments on how good the food is. Their faces are drawn and pale, tired. Mom has new wrinkles around her eyes. It kills me to see what this is doing to them, and a confused mixture of grief and anger washes through me. Sam’s voice echos in my mind, telling me I have to let go in order to move on. Will all my anger stop me from going with him? It’s a frightening thought. Will the other side somehow see all the anger and grief I’ve collected and keep me from crossing over?

What If I‘m left behind?

            Dad says suddenly, “Talked to Officer Love while you were out last night.”

            Mom looks up, eyes bright with interest. “Oh, what did he say?”

            “He’s going to call Nakia in for questioning. He seems to think she’s afraid of Caleb, and that she’ll be more inclined to give them information if she’s reassured that she’ll be kept safe from him.”

            “When?” Mom says. “When are they talking to her?”

            “He says they’ll ask her to come in today. It’s about time the cops are doing something about this. I can’t believe they took this long.”

            Hope and excitement surge through me. Officer Love is convinced that Caleb is guilty, and if he talks to Nakia by herself and she doesn’t feel threatened, then maybe she’ll open up. Maybe if Caleb isn’t standing over her, she’ll confess. She’ll tell them what actually happened. How a horrible accident turned into a giant cover up. This could all come to an end tomorrow! I would be free to go with Sam with my peace-of-mind intact. I lean forward eagerly, hoping Dad will say something else about Officer Love. Thank god for that man!

            “Officer Love thinks Caleb is guilty,” Dad says. “He said as much, even if he isn’t allowed to say it officially. He thinks Caleb knows something, at the very least. And I agree.”

            Mom frowns. “He’s horrible.” Her face crumples, and tears are welling up in her eyes. “I can’t believe I was so blind. I can’t believe I let her go over there. I can’t believe I let her date him.”

            Dad is around the table suddenly, pulling Mom out of her chair, holding her and reassuring her. The pressure is building up in my chest, the need to scream, or punch something. But I repress it.  The tears come, and I don’t fight them. I stand there silently, hands at my sides, watching my parents grieve. They must know. They must know I am dead.

            “We’ll find out what happened.” Dad’s voice is harsh, gravely with emotion. “We’ll find out who’s responsible. If he did something, he’ll go to jail. We’ll see that he stays there for the rest of his life.”

            “That wouldn’t be good enough.” Mom lifts up her head, and I’m shocked at the savage look on her face. “Jail would not be good enough if he’s done something to her.”

            They refuse to say the words, but I know what they’re saying. “If he killed her”. I rub at the tears flooding my cheeks. How can I leave them like this? How can I say goodbye? I have to though.  

Think of Sam, think of how he’s fading away. He’ll be gone soon, and if I don’t do this, I might never see him again. I suck in a deep breath and brace myself, wishing desperately that I could somehow communicate to my parents. That I could tell them I loved them both so much. I couldn’t even remember the last words I’d said to them, but it had probably been something whiny and full of self-pity. Sure, my parents had been busy. They might not have had all the time for me that I would have liked, but they were still great parents. I owed them more then I had given them, and now it was too late. I clear my throat. They couldn’t hear me, but I would say it anyways. I had to say goodbye.

            “Mom,” my voice comes out croaky. I drift closer to her. Her head is on Dad’s shoulder, her eyes are closed, tears beading on her lashes. “I love you. I’m going with Sam now.” I suck in a shaky breath and try to smile. “You remember Sam, right? The boy next door I used to play with? He’s taking me to the other side. We’ll be happy there…I guess. I love you Mom.” My chest feels so tight I can hardly breathe. My parent’s faces are made blurry by tears.

“Dad,” I whisper. “Goodbye. I hope I’ll see you guys later. Much later. I love you so much.” My entire body feels heavy as I turn away from them, and I try to gulp air in, choking on my tears. The tight feeling in my chest has grown worse. I have to force myself to go back down the hallway to the front door. One last glance over my shoulder, my parents are still embracing. Mom’s eyes are open now, tears are creating a wet patch on the shoulder of Dad’s shirt. She is staring towards the door, no, towards me. I pause, surprised. Mom’s eyes are wide, and her body stiffens. Dad pulls back from her slightly, looking down at her in concern. “Honey, are you alright?”

            She blinks, tearing her eyes away from me. “I thought…I thought I saw something. It’s nothing.”

            I stand, rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. She’s not looking at me anymore. She can’t see me anymore. I don’t know what she saw. A shadow on the wall? A glimpse of my face? I turn away, hoping that whatever she saw will bring her some sort of comfort later on, when they find out what happened to me.

            Eventually Dad sends Mom up to bed, like she’s an over tired little kid who needs a nap. She goes without protesting, and once again he stands at the sliding glass door, leaning on the frame. He leans forward, forehead on the glass, and I hear him mutter under his breath,

            “Jail isn’t good enough.”