Whispers at Moonrise
through Kylie’s chest. “Okay, let me make something clear. When I told you to fix your face, I meant for you to get your own face, not borrow one from someone else.”
The spirit pressed her palms against her cheeks, and her eyes widened. “Is this not my face?”
“No, it’s not! It’s the face of someone I care a lot about, and, nothing personal, but I don’t like seeing you wearing it.”
“I’m so confused.”
“You have an identity crisis,” Kylie offered, wanting more than anything to believe it.
“An identity crisis,” the spirit repeated.
“Yeah, and you need to figure out who you are and what it is you need from me, because I can’t help you if you don’t.”
“It’s mostly a blur.” She pursed her lips in the same manner Holiday did when she was thinking really hard, and damn if the resemblance wasn’t uncanny. Even the green color of her eyes matched perfectly.
“Maybe you’re right,” the spirit said. “I remember always feeling as if I lived in someone else’s shadow.”
“That’s good,” Kylie said, relief allowing her to breathe deeper.
“Good that I lived in someone else’s shadow?” The ghost frowned. “I don’t see it as a good thing.”
“No, I … I mean it’s good you can remember stuff.” And right then, Kylie remembered something, too. One quick and easy way to assure herself that this spirit wasn’t Holiday Brandon. Kylie tightened her eyes and focused on the ghost’s forehead.
The whimsical pattern, like the face, matched Holiday’s to a T. Kylie’s chest swelled with concern. “You’re a fae?”
The spirit propped one bent knee up across her leg, put her elbow on her knee, and then dropped her chin in the palm of her hand. The gesture was so Holiday that Kylie’s heart skipped a beat.
“Yup, that’s what I am.” She tightened her brows and gazed at Kylie. “Oh, my, what are you?”
Kylie hesitated. “I’m a … chameleon.”
The spirit made a face. “You’re a lizard?”
Kylie frowned, but her concern wasn’t about herself. “Do you remember your name?” Kylie held her breath.
The spirit met Kylie’s eyes and her brow tightened in puzzlement. Then she stood up and walked to Kylie’s window. Staring out in silence, she finally turned around. “Someone is looking for you.”
“Do you remember your name?” Kylie repeated her question.
Pulling her red hair over her shoulder, the spirit twirled it into a rope. The exact same way Kylie had watched Holiday do just a little bit ago. The ghost looked back. “They want you to come to them.”
Kylie’s chest tightened a bit. “Let’s talk about you right now,” Kylie said, making a mental decision to focus on one problem at a time.
“But you are so much more interesting. There’s all this mystery around you. A lot of questions to be answered. I can feel your emotions, you know. That’s what faes do. We feel what other people feel.”
“I know,” Kylie said, frustrated and scared about the spirit’s real identity, but she fought the angst back so she could learn more. Because if she was Holiday, then maybe Kylie could do something, change something to prevent …
“I used to be able to touch people and make them feel better, but that went away.”
“Why did it go away?” Kylie asked.
She frowned. “I’m not completely sure. I think I did something bad.” The ghost’s bright green eyes filled with tears. “I hurt people.”
Kylie sensed the spirit’s pain, her remorse, but she couldn’t deny feeling a bit of reprieve from the confession. Holiday wouldn’t do anything wrong. She was too good-hearted. Cared too much.
“Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt them,” Kylie said, wanting to help. She wrapped her arms around herself as protection against the chill that accompanied a spiritual being.
“I don’t know. I think I was angry.” The spirit stared at the wall as if lost in thought and then she reached up and touched her throat.
Kylie noticed the painful-looking bruises around the ghost’s neck.
“What happened to you?” Kylie asked, a knot forming in her throat at the thought of being choked to death.
The woman looked back at Kylie, her eyes still wet with emotion. “I’m dead.”
Kylie nodded. “I know.” She waited a second. “What happened?”
The spirit shook her head. “It’s like bits and pieces of a bad nightmare. But I think it has something to do with why I’m here. I mean, I should have left by now … We …
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