If You Believe in Me by Natalie J. Damschroder

organized. Though why he announced that everyone should sit on his left knee, she had no idea.
    She made sure Hannah knew how to handle the borrowed camera and printer and that Penny was ready with the candy canes. The next fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of asking kids what they were going to say to Santa, getting their whispered answers, and sending them over to him while she and Meredith found packages with the most appropriate gift for each one.
    Amber was bent over the dais collecting a special present she’d set aside for one of the shelter kids when a premonition swept over her, so strong her vision went dark around the edges. Kale . She knew, just knew , that when she stood again, he’d be right there, watching her.
    Her heart hammered when she slowly rose, but the space between her and the hallway entry was empty. The swinging door itself was closed, unmoving. She twisted to check the main entrance at the other end of the room. Nothing. Kids squealed and bounced as they opened presents, showing them to equally excited parents. Shreds of colorful paper littered the floor. But again, not a single person was looking at her.
    She took a long, slow breath. Her fingers tightened around the package until the wrapping crinkled. If it doesn’t tear before I pass it to Santa…
    Santa’s waving hand bumped her hip. Without looking down, she placed the present into it and stood still, waiting for the waves of goosebumps to stop. She felt Kale so strongly. She would have bet her life that he was in this room. But no matter how she scoured, how hard she looked at every face, she couldn’t see anyone who could be him.
    He’s dead . She blinked back tears and told herself how ridiculous that was. But wasn’t that how it happened? A person would see a loved one, or hear their voice, or sense them nearby, and shortly after they found out that loved one had died around that exact moment.
    She had to get out of here. But there was still a steady stream of kids, and this was just the first wave. After all the festivities for the town’s underprivileged, they had open Santa hours so people could get photos and kids could tell Santa what they hoped would be under the tree tomorrow morning. That part served as a fundraiser for the first part, and Amber had to be here for all of it. If we don’t run out of photo paper halfway through the second wave…
    Ten minutes later, it happened again. This time she could have sworn she smelled him. A hint of his warm, musky skin overlaid with the aftershave he’d worn the whole time she’d known him. A sob of hysteria nearly escaped her. Why was this happening? She needed to check her phone. It was in the storeroom, with her clothes, and she couldn’t leave. She spun to find her cousin and spotted her hurrying up the side of the room.
    “What’s going on with you?” Rina whispered fiercely.
    “I need my phone. Please. Back there.” She waved a finger at the dark room behind them. “In my tote bag.”
    “Okay, fine. Calm down. I’ll be right back.”
    But she didn’t come right back. Amber grew more agitated every minute, and was just about to rush back there herself when Rina hurried out, her eyes glistening.
    “What? Oh my God, what did you see?” She snatched the phone away and handed off another kid to Santa, who grunted as if he was in pain.
    If there are no calls, no e-mails, no tweets… She thumbed it on and skimmed to the missed calls. Nothing.
    “It’s okay,” Rina soothed. “There’s nothing on there. No texts or anything.”
    Amber didn’t trust her. She checked the text section, her e-mail, and Twitter and Facebook no matter how ridiculous that was. Rina was right. There was nothing there.
    She dialed her home number and lifted the phone to her ear. Meredith mouthed “stuffed giraffe” at her and she sat on the second step of the dais to find it while she listened to her home phone ring and ring. No messages there, either.
    “See? Everything’s fine.”