Garren awkwardly introduced himself as Oliver, aware of the three distrustful teenagers, two of them ghosts, contemplating the best way to bash his face in with a bat. With a subtle nod, he hinted at me to join him on the couch but I stayed near the doorway with Elena and Belmont.

He knew about my family’s history as reapers. His role as a guardian was a task passed down from generation to generation. The Order of Charon derived its name from the ferryman to the Greek Underworld, Charon being the first guardian.

After he saw a ghost at the elementary school, he learned about his role as a guardian from his father. The guardians were each assigned a reaper to protect and guide, teaching them about their abilities inherited after their eighteenth birthday. His father was the guardian for my mother until he received an invitation to be part of the council, shortly after my parents’ wedding. The council was a group that kept an eye on both reapers and guardians, known for their strict leadership.

In the beginning, Garren was apathetic about taking on the role of my guardian, his teenage values prioritizing school dances and making the basketball team over protecting me. His views changed after the incident that led to my father’s deal with Mr. Belmont and he had been watching over me ever since that day.

Guardians were meant to be silent observers, only stepping in if their assigned reaper was breaking the rules. He had his own gifts, such as seeing ghosts, opening a passageway to the Other Side, and extracting and altering memories.

“We’re trained from the time we get our first glimpse into the supernatural world,” he said, massaging his knee. “Not just in our abilities but in combat and history. It’s our way of being helpful to a reaper.”

“Where were your ninja skills when I was almost killed by those monsters at the memorial?” I questioned, distrustful of him.

“As much as I’d like to be able to watch you 24/7, I can’t. I didn’t see a reason to because you weren’t a troublemaker...until recently.” His eyes flickered to Belmont. “Your shopping trip with Chace Parker got my attention. The new clothes don’t really suit you.”

“A cop and a fashion critic?” I asked, sarcastically. “Wow, I hit the Fairy Godmother lottery. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know more than you think,” he countered. “It’s my job to keep you from doing something foolish but I pretty much failed after you trespassed on a crime scene and decided to get a wardrobe change as part of your plan to befriend the kids who made your life a living hell for the past ten years. I’m curious. If this insane plan happened to succeed, what were you going to do when you discovered the cause of Fin’s death? What do you gain from it? What does Fin gain from it?”

“Everyone learns the truth. Look, I know it won’t bring me back to life but at least the town won’t see me as the idiot who got drunk and fell off the bridge.” Belmont stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Maybe I don’t want to be remembered that way.”

“It’s tragic that your life was cut short, Fin, but dragging Tessa into this mess ends now,” said Garren, his tone stern. “She’s provoking forces beyond our understanding and as her guardian, I can’t allow it. The council would disapprove of this and—”

“Fuck you and the council.”

Garren was taken aback by my harsh response. The frustration I had been bottling up since my mother told me to forget about finding Belmont’s killer exploded at that moment. I was tired of people telling me that the plan was too risky or my actions might be frowned upon by a group of mysterious individuals who I never met and did not share my experiences over the past few weeks.

To me, the council was nothing more than a myth, a group of faceless individuals passing judgment on their fellow reapers based on rules dating back millennia. When I questioned him about the shadow creatures, he remained tight-lipped, saying that they moved too quick to be identified by him. I thought it was strange that a guardian, who had a wealth of supernatural knowledge from his training, was being deliberately unhelpful.

The bat trailed up his leg, stopping on the knee I had hit in the kitchen. I tapped it lightly three times.

“Tell me what they are or this next tap won’t be so gentle. We could wait until my father gets home and I’ll tell him that you were forcing yourself on me,” I suggested, his face becoming pale as a sheet. “Did you know he used to wrestle in high school? Have you ever been twisted into a pretzel?”

“Tessa, threats will get you nowhere,” he warned. “I told you I had seen them at the memorial when—”

“Liar,” I said, accusingly. “Last chance. You’re wrong that I don’t get something out of finding out who killed him. Those creatures started showing up the night of his death and that can’t be coincidence. One of them wrote my name on a window. Three, two…”

“Fine,” he conceded. “Please put the bat down.”

I lowered the bat to the floor. He had not seen the creatures before the memorial, spotting one skulking around Will’s car. The creatures bore various names across cultures and though he could not accurately classify them from a distance, they shared the ability of traveling from the Other Side. Their usual method was piggybacking on a person slipping into death when they chose to pass onto the afterlife. With the power of possession, it allowed them to continue living in the physical world though it merely lasted a few minutes.

Elena trembled at the thought of being the host for some monstrous parasite. Belmont looked equally disgusted, rubbing his neck as though expecting to find a leech latched onto his skin.

“My father says those stories are just rumors. Before I could get close, it vanished but I had a bad feeling. It’s why I told you not to get in the car. The only time I’ve seen anything like it, outside of a possessed form, it was the day of that incident,” he admitted. “It was on the roof with you and...him, whispering in his ear like a devil on his shoulder. I tried bringing it up to the council but my father dismissed it as me passing blame for not taking my role seriously.”

“What do they want?” asked Elena, confused.

He responded with a hollow laugh. “Want? They’re monsters, plain and simple. They thrive on chaos. The council has kept them trapped on the Other Side for centuries but I imagine a couple have eked through, like the ones at the memorial. They tend to keep their distance from reapers so I don’t know why they would appear around Tessa more than once or attack her.”

As I heard Parker calling for me from outside, I hid Garren in the hallway closet. I cracked open the door and spotted Parker standing on the front porch with a carton of cookie dough ice cream and several DVDs tucked under his arm.

I let him through the doorway, grinning as he bragged about ditching Chemistry to visit me, then jammed the end of the bat into his stomach. He fell to his knees, groaning in pain. I held back a laugh, deriving a sense of joy from getting out my anger towards him.

“Bitch!”

I twirled the bat. “Oh look at that, it just took a bat to break your act.”

“What act?” he sputtered.

“The one you’ve been using to get in my pants,” I snapped. “I’ve known you for years, Parker, and you’re nice for one reason. You almost had me fooled until I heard what you told your dad about Will.”

“Tessa, wait. I can explain. It’s not what you think,” he insisted, staggering to his feet. “I didn’t—you don’t understand.”

“So you’re not a narcissistic, spoiled prick who wants to get in my pants and is willing to ruin one of my closest friends for your amusement?”

My question was met with a brief silence. “Okay, I might be most of those things...”

I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt at a joke. Parker swore that his father forced him to give that statement to the police. He knew it was a complete lie, Will barely able to stay in the locker room if they smoked weed after gym class.

The night I woke up in the hospital, his father visited him with the written statement, ordering him to memorize it. When Parker questioned the odd request, his father simply stated it was for his protection.

“Maybe you can say no to your parents but if I don’t do what he says...” He went silent again, staring at the maroon carpet. “It’s better not to get him mad. It wasn’t my idea, the statement or bullying his stepsister. It wasn’t Claire either. The first comment was from Fin’s old account. It must’ve been hacked.”

I searched for a hint of a lie in his chestnut brown eyes but there was nothing but sincerity and guilt. He was grateful when I accepted his story and behind the closet door, Garren shook his head as I told Parker to sit on the couch. I subtly flipped Garren off behind the stack of DVDs.

“You’ll actually watch these?” I asked, noticing that the movies were not his usual action thrillers.

“I can handle movies that don’t have explosions or gore,” he said, placing the ice cream on the coffee table. “Besides, I got them for you, not me. I thought it’d cheer you up since you were in a coma for weeks and Nelson’s still not awake. Did you see him?”

“For a little bit, yeah. Don’t sit too close. My dad will be back soon from the market and if he sees you within a foot of me, he’ll whack you with a brisket,” I said as he walked into the kitchen, chuckling at the idea of being slapped by a piece of meat. “If you’re serious about your dad writing the statement, why would it protect you?”

He left the kitchen with two spoons and opened the carton. Catching Belmont’s eye, I scooped up a small amount.

“No clue,” he said, with a shrug. “He’s been weird. He’ll tell me to not get into too much trouble because one day, him being the chief of police might not keep me from getting arrested but he’s gone into overdrive. It started after he overheard me telling my mother about this nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” I asked, my mouth full. “About what?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “Well, I’m at the party and I see Fin on the bridge. He’s holding a bottle of whiskey and yelling into his phone and for a second, I’m thinking of how easy it would be to push him.”

I licked a bit of ice cream from the spoon. “Did you want to hurt him that night? Were you still mad from the fight?”

“Yeah but the alcohol made it worse,” he said, partially distracted as his gaze lingered on my lips. “Fin and I had our problems but in the end, we worked through it. Anyway, he’s on the bridge and I head over there to talk to him. Then, he gets shoved forward. It wasn’t like he stumbled from drinking too much. It looks like something pushes him but no one else is on the bridge. Before I wake up, someone chokes me from behind and everything goes black. That’s it. My dad—”

Elena shrieked when Belmont socked him in the jaw. Parker slumped against the couch, unconscious. As she chastised him like a parent to their child, I opened the closet door.

“You want to prove that you’re on my side, Officer Pretty Boy? Take out his memory of the bridge. I have a feeling it’s not a nightmare,” I told Garren, pointing at the comatose Parker.

Garren balked at my plan. “Tessa, it’s not that easy. It takes a lot of energy and it’s difficult to concentrate on a specific memory.”

“Then you can eat this to give you more energy,” I said, shoving the carton into his chest. “That memory could be the key to finding out what happened on the bridge. If Parker was telling the truth, he was unconscious at the time of the murder and he can’t be the killer. My dad just texted me that he’s done at the market.”

He relented, knowing that my stubbornness would win out over his attempt at reason. Placing his hands on either side of Parker’s head, he whispered a phrase in Greek.

“Φέρτε ό,τι κρύβεται”

Belmont and Elena ceased their fighting, him releasing her head from a weak chokehold, when a grey mist seeped out of Parker’s left ear like a wriggling worm. Garren referred to it as Parker’s memories and with intense concentration, he could retrieve the memory from the party.

An image of the bridge formed within the mist, showing Parker’s perspective. In the memory, Belmont was on the bridge with a bottle of whiskey, drunkenly shouting into his cracked phone.

“Stop calling me, Rosie!” he yelled, leaning on the railing. “I don’t give a damn what he says! I’m—he’s a...jerk and you are too. Stop acting like you care. You never care. None of you do. You're just worried about the company and being perfect. He’s the one that should apologize, not me. He’s mad because for once, I have the upper hand. I know his secret.”

Parker sniggered. “Is that phone even on, man?”

Belmont did not hear him, too focused on insulting his sister. “No, I’m not bluffing. If he doesn’t apologize, I’ll...I’ll tell everybody. I’ll ruin our family. Who cares? I’ll be out of here after graduation. Why wait? Hell, I could sweet talk Cecile into giving me my diploma now.”

He took a deep swig from the bottle. As he stumbled backwards, he almost fell over the railing but kept his balance.

“That’s why she throws herself at Baxter, you know,” he slurred. “She wants to get laid but her crypt keeper of a husband spends all his time at that lame art gallery. Bet she’d flip if she knew her daughter was screwing him too. No, I’m not lying. Oh, Dad would kill me if I told anyone what I knew? I’d love to see him try. Let him do it. Like he hasn’t wanted me dead since I was born. Ow!”

Pulling up his sleeve, he revealed a fresh cut across his arm. “What the fuck? Shut up, Rosie. You’re not my mother. Stop nagging m—”

Parker was not wrong in believing that Belmont was pushed by an unknown force, except that it was far from invisible. A shadow creature had landed on the bridge and shoved him violently into the railing. The phone fell from his hand as he hunched over in pain.

The bridge became clearer as Parker ran towards it to help his friend. I watched the shadow creature shove Belmont a second time and laugh in a taunting manner at him blindly swinging his fists in the air.

Its milky white eyes peered into the bushes near the bridge and the creature spoke in the same language used during the attack at the memorial. The three words that were barely understandable were kill, boy, and master. Before Parker could past the entrance sign, an arm wrapped around his throat. The memory began to blur, making it harder to get a good look at the attacker.

All I could see was a sliver of a tattoo on the inside of their wrist, reminding me of the images that flashed before me when Belmont was teaching me about his family. The tattoo was a wolf’s head with Omnem diem ultimum suus written underneath.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

The mysterious attacker easily overpowered Parker, who helplessly attempted to fight back—“Let me go!“—and the mist faded from the room. Garren offered to alter Parker’s memories and drive him back to his house. Slinging the muscular teen over his shoulder, he warned me not to leave the house.

“Mystery solved. He was killed by a shadow monster. Now that it’s over, he can leave and find other ghosts to bother,” said Elena, digging a spoon into the carton.

I sent a text to my father. “It’s not solved, El. That creature was sent there. It was speaking to someone in the bushes. I told my dad that we’re visiting Mr. Hilton at his office to discuss that loan.”

“But we’re not...are we?” she said, dreading my reply.

“Nope.” I retrieved my keys from the bowl in the kitchen. “We’re going somewhere to get answers. These creatures are taking orders and I’ve got a hunch. We need to talk to someone with even more knowledge than Garren.”

About twenty minutes into the drive, I passed by a Welcome to New Orleans sign. Elena quickly figured out where we were headed and her anxiety was overtaken by excitement.

As heavy rain splattered against the windows, we went over the contents of Parker’s memory and possible suspects for his attacker. The one thing we could agree on was that the attacker was definitely a man, someone strong enough to overpower the 6′3" wide receiver. Belmont, his memory of that night still hazy, was unable to recall his conversation with his sister or what he meant by his father’s secret.

“At least we got a look at that tattoo,” I said, with a shred of optimism.

Belmont played with his lighter. “It was written in like Japanese. I bet it said ’I like to suck—”

I glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Latin. It means live each day like it’s your last.”

“Why do you know that?” he asked, dumbfounded. “Who learns Latin?”

“It’s part of a reaper’s training to learn several languages,” I told him. “Does it sound familiar?”

“No. But how hard can it be to find a wrist tattoo?” He leaned his head against the seat out of boredom. “Where are we going? We’ve been driving for hours.”

“We haven’t,” I said, driving down a packed street. “Calm down. We’re here.”

I parked the car outside a two-story, colonial style building. A green sign just outside the door read Elysium Nursing Home, golden flowers curled around the words. I hurried into the building, with the hood of my coat over my head, and walked over to the main desk, where a kind-faced, middle-aged woman in a pale blue nurse’s uniform was typing on a computer.

Looking away from the computer, she smiled, a dimple dancing at the corner of her pink lips.

“Tessa, how good to see you again,” she said, warmly. “I didn’t know you were coming up for a visit.”

I returned the smile. “I know you’re supposed to call ahead, Anna, but—”

“She’ll love the surprise. You always put her in such a wonderful mood. To be honest, it’s perfect timing. She’s been a tad odd today,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I haven’t spoken to your mother about it yet but she tried to escape the nursing home and she’s been muttering to herself. She’s drawing strange pictures as well, which still amazes me considering her...condition. I’ve heard her mention your name so seeing you will do her some good, I hope. Come with me.”

I walked down the hallway, kicking Belmont when he commented on the putrid smell of urine and old lady perfume emanating from the rooms. Anna stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and knocked before opening the door. Music, consisting of flutes, drums, and tambourines, played from a stereo on the nightstand.

Hand-drawn pictures adorned each of the four walls, several towards the bottom looking like they were drawn by a child with crayons. The drawings depicted famous landmarks in Puerto Rico, beautiful, realistic forests, and a city on top of the clouds.

Below the city was a painting of an ominous cavern with flames flickering off the walls and a winding river that led to a figure with a human head and a dog’s body below the waist, surrounded by bats.

A thin woman had her back to the door, her glossy, ebony hair stopping just short of her waist. She wore a floor length dress with a white blouse and a flowing, vibrant red skirt. Talking to herself, she passed over one of the drawings with a piece of charcoal but instead of a new drawing, she wrote a phrase with an intense fervor.

“Sofia, you have a visitor,” said Anna, quietly. “It’s—”

She had moved from the wall to the door at lightning speed, wrapping her frail arms around my neck. Though she was well into her sixties, she did not look a day over forty, a trait she had passed onto the rest of her family. Visible scars that ran from the right side of her forehead to the bottom left side of her chin disfigured her once beautiful face.

“Remember to sign out when you leave, Tessa. If you need anything, I’ll be at the front desk.”

The moment she shut the door, my grandmother cupped my face in her hands. “I knew you

were coming, palomita. You came sooner than I thought...and you brought Elena with you. You look even more beautiful than the last I saw you, dear.”

A blush in her dark cheeks peeked out from behind her curls. “You say that every visit. You know ghosts don’t age.”

She grasped Belmont’s hand, which he was waving in front of her cloudy, chocolate brown eyes out of curiosity—“How did the old bat see me?“—and placed his arm back at his side.

“This old bat doesn’t need eyes to see, Finley Belmont,” she said, flicking his nose. “I can smell that cheap cologne from a mile away. Good lord, it’s enough to put down a herd of elephants.”

He stepped away from my grandmother while Elena and I looked at each other, equally mortified. “H—how do you know my name?”

“I know your family of old, boy,” she said, sitting on a floral printed couch. “You smell just as your father did when he was your age and I heard from my daughter that you chose to stay behind for now. Have you been bothering my sweet granddaughter and her little girlfriend?”

Pushing even more of her hair in front of her face, Elena let out an unnaturally high-pitched giggle. I nudged Belmont’s side, giving him a look that said Be nice or you’ll be sorry.

He shook his head, stuttering out a “No. I—I’ve been good”, before sitting in one of the chairs to avoid my grandmother’s scrutinizing gaze. Leaning from side to side, he waved his hands to test the range of her vision but stopped when she grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the table and chucked it at his head.

“Sorry about him, Abuela,” I said, wishing I could have left him behind. “Is everything okay? Anna said that you tried to break out.”

“To be with the family,” she replied, gravely. “We’re in danger. I’ve seen it.”

“C—can you uh see the future or something, So—Mrs. Tessa’s grandma?” asked Belmont, struggling to be polite.

“Yes. It’s a gift that reapers gain when we’re much older. I knew you were coming here, Tessa, because of the attack at the memorial and what the Parker boy showed you in that memory.” She patted the spot beside her. “Sit, sit. We have much to discuss.”

Elena and I joined her on the couch, across from a fidgety Belmont who held onto the fruit basket.

“Your mother wouldn’t approve of what I wish to tell you. She wants you to be sheltered from the world forever but you are a strong young woman,” she said, a fierce determination in her voice. “Coddling you will only lead to an early grave. These creatures are nothing new.”

“My guardian, who I met for the first time today, said that they sneak out of the Other Side to possess people and they do it because they like causing trouble,” I said, thankful that she knew about the shadow creatures. “The ones who attacked us and the one in Parker’s memory? Something’s different about them. They talk about this master and it’s like they’re following orders.”

She clasped her hands together on her lap. “I sense you already have a hunch. How could one control such monsters?”

I thought back to my previous encounters with the shadow creatures. “When they spoke, I could understand them. I heard actual words. They’re being controlled by a reaper. That’s how they’re sneaking past the council’s barrier. A reaper’s power built it so a reaper can disable it.”

The phrase scribbled on the walls caught my eye. In Spanish, my grandmother had written

‘Beware the roses. The kitten is truly a lion, hidden under the waterfall’. A knowing smile graced her lips, like she could see the gears spinning in my head.

“You figured out it was a reaper too. There’s another one in Belmont Falls, besides me and my mother…but you told me that we can feel each other’s presence.” I remembered her stories of meeting hidden reapers while on vacation with my mother and grandfather. “How could we have not seen them?”

“Some have learned to cover their tracks, whether for privacy or to hide their indiscretions,” she explained. “It takes practice. The more pressing matter is who this reaper is and why they are using these creatures. If I’m right, it is why we are in danger. Not just us but—”

My grandmother’s voice was drowned out by a piercing pain in my temple. Reminiscent of the vision that preceded Belmont’s death, I was bombarded with rapidly flashing images of a man working in his office then rolling down a staircase.

In the midst of my vision, I had fallen from the couch and was lying on my back with Elena propping up my head. I instinctively squeezed her hand when it clasped my own, breathing shallowly until the vision ceased and I was back in the room. My grandmother was on her knees behind me, rubbing the sides of my head to relieve the pain. Belmont looked between the three of us as if we had just reenacted a scene from The Exorcist.

“What was that?” he asked, uncertain if it was a hallucination. “Were you possessed, Byrne?”

Elena helped me up from the floor, her thumb gently brushing the back of my hand. “She had a vision, idiot. She gets them when someone’s about to die. The same thing happened a few days before your party.”

Lacking any tact, he questioned me about the vision. Elena smacked his arm when his potential guesses of victims included Will.

“Do you hear yourself when you talk or are you just incapable of caring about someone’s feelings other than your own?” she snarled, looking like she wanted to shove an apple somewhere unpleasant. “Grow up, you jackass. This is why we broke—you’re such a child.”

“Stop fighting, both of you. It wasn’t Will. I saw an office and a man typing on a computer. It was today’s date, about a half hour from now. At the end, they were rolling down the stairs. I recognized the watch. It was Connor’s,” I said, fearfully looking at the clock on the nightstand.

My grandmother urged me to return to Belmont Falls, my apprehension over Will losing his stepfather palpable. I promised to visit her at the nursing home the next day after school to theorize on the rogue reaper and their motives with the shadow creatures.

On the way home, I was more focused on the clock than the road, leading to about a dozen close calls with cars. Elena flipped off a man who called me a ‘ditzy little bitch’ after I made a quick right turn without using my turn signal. Along the way, I made a call to the police station, pretending to have overheard strange noises inside Will’s house.

I parked shoddily in his driveway, the back tires nestled in the grass, and hurried towards the front door. I was about to grab the handle when I heard a series of soft, continuous thuds from inside the house. My hand retracted from the handle, moving to the slowly forming bump on the side of my head. Elena held onto me as I felt each painful blow at the same time as Mr. Mitchell.

Though the pain all over my body dwindled, I was unable to stand without her. Belmont suggested taking me back to the hospital, lying to the doctors that I slipped on the stairs to explain the bruises and bleeding, but I assured him that my injuries were temporary.

Together, the three of us entered the house, finding Mr. Mitchell at the bottom of the stairs, barely conscious. Fresh blood trickled down the side of his head and a bump was visible under his dark skin.

Belmont checked his pulse. “It’s weak. He’s not going to make it.”

“We called the cops like ten minutes ago,” I said, peering out the door. “Why aren’t they—forget it. Let me try something.”

Crouching down beside him, I bit my lip to stifle a groan from the pain and placed my hand over Mr. Mitchell’s wrist. I hoped that what had happened with Will at the hospital was more than mere coincidence. The veins on the back of my hand became pronounced and I let out a quiet whimper as my wounds that had just healed now reopened and I felt the pain of his injuries all over again. Mr. Mitchell’s eyes fluttered and he took a short inhale of breath.

“T—Tessa?” he gasped.

“It’s okay, Connor. The police are on their way. Don’t sit up,” I said, lightly pressing my hand against his chest. “You fell down the stairs. Lay down until they get here. Were you pushed?”

He adjusted his crooked glasses. “G—go to my office. Take the file in the safe behind your mother’s painting. The code is 3763. Give it to your father.”

“Is that why you were attacked?” I asked, remembering their conversation. “Did you see their face?”

“No,” he replied, wiping the blood from his wound. “They attacked me from behind. I know it’s what they’re after. Please get to it before—it has to be kept hidden.”

Elena and Belmont stayed with him while I headed to his office. I lifted up the painting, of a sunset over the water, he had bought at the art gallery months ago, revealing a safe embedded in the wall.

After typing in the code, I twisted the handle and took out the folder he had shown my father at the hospital, containing the life insurance papers. Folding up the papers, I stuffed them in my jacket pocket and placed the folder back in the safe. I stiffened as something grazed the back of my head.

“Give me those papers or you won’t make it to prom. Don’t make me pull the trigger,” said a gruff voice.

The man’s arm coiled around my throat. “N—no,” I stuttered.

“Are you deaf, kid?" he asked, holding a gun against my chin. "I had orders to leave no witnesses but if you give me the papers, I’ll let you go. This isn’t any of your business. Reach into your pocket and—”

He shouted a stream of curses as my teeth sank into his hand. His grip on my throat loosened and thinking fast, I grabbed the closest object and struck him in the face ten times with a stapler.

A tall, lanky man in a baggy black hoodie and jeans was shaking out his hand, my teeth marks embedded in the skin, the gun falling from his grasp. He had a scar under his left eye and smelled heavily of whiskey. I thought he looked familiar and after a few seconds, I realized that he regularly hung around the school, offering to buy alcohol and cigarettes for teenagers at a hefty price. It was rumored that he lived in an abandoned trailer in the woods near the Falls.

“Who sent you?” I asked, my heart racing. “Was it a Belmont?”

“Crazy bitch,” he snarled, taking out a switchblade.

I struggled to keep the knife from cutting into my cheek. The skin on his arm turned an ashy grey and began to take on a sunken appearance, exposing the bones. I moved my hand—“What the hell?” he shouted, panicking over his corpse-like arm—and smacked him once more with the stapler, knocking him to the floor.

The door swung open and Chief Parker and two officers stormed into the room, wielding their guns. I imagined that they expected to find me begging for mercy as the menacing stranger threatened me, not me standing over him, staring at his formerly bony arm in horror, with a stapler.

Taking the stapler, Chief Parker led me out of the room while the other officers dealt with the stranger. Mr. Mitchell, lying on a stretcher, was being rolled into the back of an ambulance. Garren was speaking with the surrounding neighbors, who were all gathered in a circle in the front yard like a pack of vultures.

Writing what the elderly, partially deaf Mrs. Kane told him, he glanced over at me with an expression like a concerned older brother. Chief Parker ordered me to stay on the porch swing and approached another officer, a young woman, who showed him a white rose that had been tucked into Mr. Mitchell’s jeans pocket. Elena and Belmont joined me by the porch swing.

“Did you hear that? It’s the same as—”

“Byrne, you need to leave now,” said Belmont, observing the growing crowd around the house that included a news van.

Angela Starr, shameless as ever, attempted to get a statement from the severely injured Mr. Mitchell. She disregarded the frustrated EMTs, who interrupted her by shutting the doors.

“But he said—” I began, watching the female officer seal the rose in a plastic bag.

“Out of the three of us, I’ve dealt with the cops the most,” he said, tugging on my wrist. “You’re already on his list after that car accident.”

“He’s right.”

Had my grandmother broken out of the nursing home and followed me to Belmont Falls? There was no mistaking her voice but I did not see her on the porch. We were alone, except for a muddy brown frog on the windowsill.

“You need to leave, Tessa.”

I nearly fell off the swing as the words came out of the frog. Luckily, no one could hear Elena or Belmont’s screams.

“A—Abuela?” I squeaked.

“Of course.” Based on her tone, I should find it normal but I wondered if the stranger had shot me and I was delirious from blood loss. “It’s an ancient practice I learned from my travels. My body is at the nursing home but my spirit can travel elsewhere through animals. It allows reapers to communicate with each other in private.”

“You couldn’t at least give us a warning?” asked Belmont, catching his breath.

She ignored his whining. “I can’t maintain the connection for much longer or the nurses will sense it but this is important. After you left, I had a vision myself. The intent was never to kill Connor Mitchell. It was to draw you to his home.”

“Are you saying the other reaper did this?” I lowered my voice. “The white roses at the hospital and Belmont’s grave...now in Connor’s pocket? It’s the same person. Why didn’t they kill me at the hospital?”

“I don’t think that’s their intent either. That dunderhead of a police officer cannot be trusted, Tessa,” she said, pointing a webbed front leg at Chief Parker. “I watched him at the station after you made the call. He was purposely biding his time. I don’t believe he’s the reaper but he may be an accomplice. Run straight home.”

With everyone distracted by the latest incident in town, I thought it would be easy to sneak off without Chief Parker noticing my absence. I was taken aback by a microphone being shoved under my nose. Angela Starr, her sweaty cameraman standing behind her, smiled at me like a shark bearing its rows of pointy teeth.

“Hi there,” she greeted in a bubbly manner. “I hear you were the one who found Calvin Michaels after his unfortunate accident.”

I stepped away from the microphone. “It’s Connor Mitchell and—wait, did you say accident?”

“How would you like to give a statement?” she pressed on, the microphone practically in my nostril. “Tell us about your heroism. Your friends will be so impressed with you being on TV.”

“Uh no, I don’t...I really need to go,” I said, heeding my grandmother’s words.

“Another time, then? I’d love a firsthand account on Corbin,” she said, reaching into her diamond studded purse.

The neon pink business card was snatched from her fingers by Chief Parker. “What did I tell you, Angela? Get out of here. If you want a story, go sniffing somewhere else. Tessa, you’re coming down to the station with me to answer questions.”

Placing his hand on the small of my back, he forced me over to his squad car. “Why did you say Connor’s fall was an accident?” I asked, fighting his ironclad grip. “Where’s the guy who pushed him and almost shot me?”

“Get in the car, Tessa,” he ordered. “We’ll talk at the station.”

“No,” I refused, despite the fact he could snap me in half. “I—I want my parents or I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Chief Parker’s black eyes skimmed the gossiping crowd that was interested in gleaning salacious details out of the officers. My head struck the top of the door as he shoved me into the backseat.

“Let’s get one thing straight, missy,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. You’ve got such a bright future ahead of you and it would be a shame if that was all thrown away by an eyewitness saying that they saw you push Connor Mitchell down those stairs. Considering your family tree, it wouldn’t be hard to believe, now would it? Be a good little girl, Tessa.”