Madame Humphrey directed her attention at Kylee. “What’s the problem, dear?”
“It’s hard to explain,” she said. “I’m losing my ability to move things. Even around Price. If I’m not touching him, I feel like I’m disappearing.” She felt Price lingering behind her, holding onto the hem of her shirt, maintaining their connection.
Madame Humphrey nodded. “How do you feel when you’re ‘disappearing’?”
“Cold. Alone. Confused. I can’t focus on anything important. It’s like my mind turns to jelly.”
“Remember I warned you.” Madame Humphrey included Price in her gaze now. “You don’t have a lot of time.”
“You keep saying that,” Price interrupted, abrasive as always. “Be more specific. How much time do we have?”
She leveled her gray eyes at him. “I don’t know. But the shorter someone’s lifespan on earth, the less time they have. When time runs out, Kylee, if you haven’t made your journey to the next realm, you will cease. You won’t be a ghost, or a spirit. You will be no more.”
Price’s eyes narrowed. “But our instructions are pretty vague! How are we supposed to accomplish it so quickly?”
“That’s why she has you.” Madame Humphrey turned to Kylee. “Can you move things on your own?”
She shook her head. “I stop fading as long as I’m close to Price, but without him . . . I don’t last long.”
“As your guide, Price can lend you more time than you would have otherwise. He can help you resist the emptiness. But let me tell you this.” Madame Humphrey held up one finger, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. “Kylee’s spirit can fade even if her tangible form doesn’t. All that will remain is an empty, confused shell.” She focused on Price now. “You can’t keep her here forever. You must complete the task.”
“I know that,” Price said, not hiding his irritation. “We’re working on it. That’s why I’m not in school right now.”
“Good.” She nodded. “Good luck, then. Kylee, stay close to him. You’ll need his contact as you fight the pull on your spirit. Eventually, Price, she won’t be able to resist.”
“Got it.” Price tugged his baseball cap farther down, hiding his eyes. “Let’s go, Kylee.”
“Kylee,” Madame Humphrey called. “Don’t forget what I told you.” Her eyes flicked to Price and back to her, one eyebrow arching upward in meaning.
Kylee felt her face warm and nodded. Oh, lordy, like she needed a reminder. “I haven’t.” She crossed her fingers and toes that Madame Humphrey couldn’t tell how close they’d come.
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Price hauled Kylee back to the boardwalk and then plopped down on the walkway with an angry grunt. He released her hand and removed his cap, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Kylee settled down next to him. “You seem agitated.”
“We’re getting nowhere, Kylee. I’m fed up with her and her riddles, her non-helpful hints. We need something real!” He turned his gaze on her, fire burning in his brown eyes. “I don’t know what to do now! And somehow I’m supposed to keep you from vanishing away from me, knowing no matter how I hold on, I can’t keep you here!”
She knew she ought to feel worse about the situation than he did, but the only thing she felt was sorry for Price. She was already dead. Price was the one who had to watch her die again. Every day, a little bit more. She lifted her eyes to the storefronts across the street. A juice cafe, a jewelry store, and a shop with a green awning and no name, nothing but a big handwritten sign reading, “SEND CA$H NOW.”
“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this,” she said.
He rolled his eyes. “Last thing I need is your pity. I just want to know what to do. I need some help here!”
She stared at the sign. CA$H. “Like maybe,” she said, a puzzle piece clicking into place, “the password to the police database?”
“We tried that,” Price said, crinkling his nose. “It didn’t work.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I got it wrong,” she said with a triumphant smile. “Take me home. Let’s try again.”
“Who’s home?”
She paused. “Your home, goof. Or isn’t it mine now, too?”
“Yeah? Is it?” His shoulders relaxed. “Well, then things can’t be too bad.” He bumped her knee with his and stood up. “I’ll find us a ride back.”
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“There,” Kylee said, correcting the password on Price’s notepad. “I left off the dollar sign. I’m sure this is right now.”
“What jogged your memory?” Price asked, typing in the new password. The hourglass symbol spun, and then a green screen appeared with a blinker. “Hey hey! We’re in!”
“Great!” Kylee smiled and leaned over his shoulder.
“What now?” He glanced up at her.
“Um, well, I didn’t hang around long after I saw the password.” Stupid of her. She should have lingered, watched what the cop did once he was in.
“No problem. I can do this.” Price typed something, and a menu appeared with several different options.
“What did you do?”
“Typed in a command prompt. They’re pretty standard across computer systems.”
She shrugged. “Sure.” Must be what he meant when he said he was good at computer programing.
Price opened a program labeled “files” and clicked around for a bit.
“Find anything?” Kylee murmured, scanning over his shoulder.
“Nothing useful.” Price exited the folder and opened one called “reports.” This had long pages of numbers that probably meant something to Price, but she couldn’t make sense of them.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Price ran his finger down the column. “Autopsies. I bet you’re in here, Kylee.” He clicked a box.
A green screen opened up with a small, white rectangular box in the middle and a magnifying glass next to it. After that was the word, “search.”
“You ready, Kylee?” Price whispered, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“Do it,” she said.
He typed, “Kylee Mansfield” and hit enter.
The spinning hourglass appeared again, and then the screen changed to reveal a photo of herself. Only it wasn’t her as she knew herself now. She gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.
The picture must’ve been taken right after the cops hauled her body from the reeds. She recognized the location, the tall grasses, the murky water. But her body had been flipped over. Her clothes were covered in blood, the skin sagging around her face, hair bleached out from the camera flash. She lay on her side, legs curled inward, one arm extended limply. A jagged, open crevice ran from her elbow to her wrist. Her features didn’t look right, either. Her lips were pulled back, exposing her teeth in a grimace, her eyes open.
No; her eyes were gone. As were her lips.
She was in a state of decomposition. Kylee pressed her fingers to her mouth, making sure she still had lips.
Price closed the computer. He pushed away from the desk and ran from the room.
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