The Next Full Moon by Carolyn Turgeon Page B

normal to arrive at someone’s doorstep for the first time, past midnight, and on a school night no less, being totally beautiful and glowing and having eyes like jewels.
    The image of the swan flashed across Ava’s mind. She shook her head, disoriented.
    â€œHow do you know my name? Who are you?”
    â€œWell,” the woman said. “I know your mother. I have a message from her.”
    â€œMy mother?”
    â€œYes. I was sent here by your mother. There are things you need to know.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    T he whole world seemed to have been remade in silver. The Brooks’ house across the street, the trees outside, the pathway leading from the front door to the street, her father’s old truck sitting in the driveway. This moon-haired woman at the door.
    Ava stared at the woman, confused. “My mother is dead,” she said. “She died when I was a baby.”
    The woman looked surprised, slightly, for a moment, and then said, gently, “Dear, she is dead . . . to this world. But there is more that you don’t know yet.”
    Ava stepped back. “Are you a ghost? Have you cometo take me to heaven?” She thought of the ghost stories Grandma Kay told her, where spirits appeared to take people to early deaths, though the ghosts in those stories were never exactly movie-star beautiful like this. “I’m too young!”
    â€œI’m not a ghost. But I will explain everything.”
    Ava narrowed her eyes. “Let me touch your arm to make sure.”
    Helen held out her arm, and Ava reached out and placed her palm on it, feeling the soft fabric of her dress, and the flesh underneath. Definitely not a ghost , she thought, slightly disappointed that her hand hadn’t gone straight through. But then who was she?
    â€œIf you’re not a ghost, then how do you know my mother?”
    â€œI will show you everything if you come with me. You were not old enough, before now, to know the things I’m here to tell you.”
    â€œHow do I know you’re not a robber or a murderer?” Ava had watched Law and Order with her dad and knew that you couldn’t trust just any stranger who came to your door at midnight.
    â€œBecause I know your mother. I know what’s happening to you. I know that you’re growing a feathered robe and probably have no idea why.”
    Ava’s mouth dropped. “Were you spying on me?” Her mind flashed again to the swan in the backyard.
    Helen stepped forward, reaching for Ava’s hand. “Ava, we’ve all been keeping watch over you since you were born. Your mother, too, after she came back to us. You’re a very rare, very special girl, you know.”
    Ava pondered this. She was exceptionally bright, she knew. And she was very, very good in math. Her teacher had even called her a shining star once, when she’d solved a complicated multiplication problem more quickly than anyone else in class and won a trophy for it. Of course it was just a picture of a trophy that had been laminated, but still.
    Plus, she had just grown and shed a feather garment. And she was a doppelganger.
    Helen wrapped her hand around Ava’s. A jolt went through Ava, and an array of images flashed before her eyes: her mother’s inky eyes in the photograph by Ava’s bed, the swan in the backyard, its wings spreading in the air.
    â€œSo you’re saying my mother . . . is alive?”
    â€œYes,” Helen said.
    Ava looked at Helen more closely. “If my mother is alive,” she said, “why didn’t she come herself? And why did she go away in the first place?”
    â€œShe had to leave. She never should have been here at all, but she loved your father and so she stayed much, much longer than she should have. And she cannot come here now, Ava. You will understand why, in time.”
    â€œWill you take me to her?”
    Helen hesitated. Behind her, the leaves ruffled in the breeze. “I