Whispers at Moonrise

the idea of telling Holiday about the death of her sister had Kylie’s heart hurting.
    Then a familiar chill filled the damp air. Hannah materialized, standing in the pool of water. Her green eyes, bright with tears and filled with sadness, focused on Holiday.
    Oblivious to her sister’s presence, Holiday stared at the wall of water rushing down. She rubbed her arms as though she were chilled, and then turned her head and met Kylie’s eyes. “A visitor?”
    Kylie nodded, her throat getting tighter with emotion when she glanced again at Hannah’s tears.
    Holiday shrugged. “That’s odd. They normally don’t come back here.” She leaned back on the rocks and stared up at the cave ceiling, as if giving Kylie space to deal with the spirit.
    “She hates me,” Hannah said . “And I don’t blame her. What I did was unforgivable.” Shame now entered Hannah’s wet eyes.
    Kylie almost asked Hannah what she’d done, but decided to let her be the one to initiate the conversation. Kylie sat there in silence, feeling the cold of death that somehow seemed to blend with the calm of the falls.
    She studied Hannah’s emotion-filled expression and she knew the spirit had found her way through the confusion of death enough to communicate.
    Enough to remember. Did she recall the moments before her death? The name of her killer perhaps? But all Kylie saw in Hannah’s expression was regret.
    Watching Hannah took Kylie back to her own near-death experience, to when Mario and his friends had knocked her off the ledge. She’d thought she was about to die. And she would have if Red, Mario’s grandson, hadn’t saved her and sacrificed himself in the process.
    She remembered the regret that consumed her when she thought it was the end. Probably the same emotions Hannah felt now. Wouldn’t everyone feel that way? Living, Kylie supposed, meant making mistakes, as well as garnering karma points.
    While Kylie had never really defined her job/gift as a ghost whisperer, she supposed it entailed helping the spirits recall the good they’d done as much as helping them absolve any outstanding mistakes. It seemed that when you were alive, you spent most of your time trying to forgive others; upon death, it was yourself you mostly needed to forgive.
    I’ll bet you two were close, Kylie said. I imagine you had a lot of fun as sisters.
    Hannah looked up at Kylie. “We did. I just wish…”
    When Hannah didn’t continue, Kylie asked, What is it that I need to do for you? Is it just telling her about you? Is it getting you and the others out of the mass grave?
    “No, it’s more.” She paused as if still trying to remember. “ It can’t happen again. ” Hannah’s whisper echoed against the cave’s rock walls and the cold of her presence built.
    Kylie pulled one knee closer to her chest. What can’t happen again?
    Hannah stepped closer, looking lost in thought. “I can’t look at her without feeling … I was so wrong. So jealous. I got what I deserved. I deserved to die, but the others didn’t. It has to stop.” Even more tears filled her eyes. The sound of rushing water punctuated by the quietness of the mist-filled air added a strange kind of eeriness to the moment.
    “He wants her.” Hannah took another step forward. Desperation filled her eyes. “And you have to stop him.”
    Kylie’s gaze shifted from the spirit’s face and became captured by the still water that didn’t even stir as Hannah inched forward. Her sad spirit stopped when she stood directly over Holiday, staring down at her with a mixture of love and regret.
    Realizing what Hannah had said, Kylie asked, Who? Stop who from doing what?
    Holiday’s phone rang and Kylie looked over at her. The camp leader sat up, her brows pinched. “Okay, that’s odd, too. Phones don’t usually work in here.” Pulling her phone from her pocket, she eyed the number on the screen.
    Kylie heard Holiday’s breath catch at the same time as Hannah’s. The spirit let out a sound of despair and took off running through the falls. Her footfalls, though quick, fell silent on the rock floor.
    Right before Hannah’s spirit darted through the wall of water, she glanced back at Holiday, who stared transfixed at the number on the phone. Then she disappeared, taking with her the cold that she’d brought.
    “Who is it?” Kylie asked Holiday.
    Holiday shook her head. “It’s … Blake.”
    “Who’s Blake?” Kylie asked, somehow certain he was a clue to all this. Was he