Audrey Claire - Libby Grace 01 - How to be a Ghost by Audrey Claire Page B

chattered about how much each of them had bugged her in one way or another, and I had been there when she broke down at five in the morning and cried her eyes out.
    Thinking of my precious friend having to face possibly losing me too choked me up. I moved behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, but my fingers passed through. She shivered, and I pulled away.
    “I woke up in Jake’s room while he slept,” I explained.
    “You fell asleep holding him?” she asked, but I knew she guessed that wasn’t what I meant.
    “I appeared in his room.”
    She didn’t face me, and I didn’t move around the couch to force her to look. Choosing my words with care, I explained everything that had happened up until that point, and Monica listened. The way her shoulders drew up and how she kept tugging at her dreads, I knew she had trouble accepting what she heard. At least she hadn’t screamed yet. Then again, she hadn’t seen me with her own eyes.
    “Are you sure you’re not playing a joke on me, Libby? Because if you are, I’m so going to kick your butt.”
    I leaned closer to her, sighing when I couldn’t hug her. “I wish this was a joke. Anyway, Ian thinks I might be still tethered to life,” I said.
    “Tethered? You mean like a rope or whatever?”
    “I guess. I was thinking maybe I’m lying somewhere unconscious.”
    The idea perked Monica up. “Oh, you could be in a hospital, and maybe no one knows who you are.”
    As Monica spoke, she leaped to her feet and spun to face me. The moment her gaze locked with mine, her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she let loose a scream to bring the house down. I threw my hands out to try calming her down, but she fell away from me and landed on her butt, still screeching.
    “Aunt Monica?” Jake called. “What’s wrong?”
    I spun to face the hall and lost all concentration. I imagined I flickered out to Monica. One minute I appeared before her. The next I was gone. She swung her head back and forth, looking around for me. At least she had stopped screaming by the time Jake entered the room, dressed in an old T-shirt and his Cookie Monster pajama pants with bare toes peeking out from the bottom.
    “Why are you on the floor, Aunt Monica?” Jake asked, following her line of sight but obviously not seeing me. “What happened?”
    “I-I-I…” Monica stuttered. “I thought I saw a mouse, but it was just a ball of yarn. You know from when your mom went through that knitting faze.”
    The woman thought fast on her feet. I had to give her that. Still worried though, I watched Jake. He appeared to take her word for it and offered a few suggestions in his straightforward way about how she shouldn’t be scared of mice, but if she was, he would help her catch it.
    I drifted toward my son and leaned in close to him. A deep inhale brought no scent, and tears stung my eyes. Jake smelled so sweet when he was fresh from a bath, and at that moment I craved to wrap him in my embrace and never let go. All I wanted was to show myself and hear him talk to me, to reassure him I had not and would not abandon him.
    Monica led Jake back into the hall. Their voices reached me from the bedroom, but I couldn’t make out what they said. Not long after, Monica reappeared, treading with caution into the room, her eyes wide and bottom lip caught between her teeth. She paused in the doorway, holding onto the frame as if she feared being caught up in a sudden whirlwind.
    “Libby?” she whispered. “Are you still here?”
    I flickered into view beside the TV, and the screen turned to snow. “I’m here.”
    Monica jumped, but this time she didn’t scream. I suspected the clenching of her jaw and the back of her hand shoved against her mouth was the single reason she didn’t. Slow, deep breaths appeared to calm her.
    “Did you do that?” She pointed to the TV. I looked and moved away from it.
    “Sorry. I can’t control it sometimes.”
    “Libby, you’re… You…”
    “I’m not,” I