that’s why ghosts haunt: they have unfinished business. She’s probably buried somewhere in the fields around Frog Road. If Tatum can find her, she can help the girl reach the afterlife. How amazing would that be?
Just think of the possibilities! If Tatum died, she’d want her parents to have her body so they could put her to rest. Molly probably has family out there somewhere. Are they still waiting around the house, a small flicker of hope rushing through them every time the phone rings or someone knocks on the door? Is it possible they’ve been waiting over forty years for news of their wayward daughter? If Tatum can solve the mystery, she’ll be a hero in their eyes.
And what about Molly’s killer? What if there’s evidence on the body that could bring him or her to justice? What kind of cool-ass justice could that end up being?
Crawling under the covers, she smiles to herself as she turns out the light. She’s already forgotten the warning that the ghost gave her; the words
You’re going to die
have escaped her memory.
That’s her first big mistake.
MOLLY
No. Oh, no.
Please, God, no.
I can’t get the images out of my mind. Even though I’m no longer in the car, no longer touching the girl’s skin, the vision refuses to let go. It’s gotten inside me, twisting and turning things around until I can’t actually tell if it’s happening to me personally.
It’s like being tortured all over again.
I’m on the ground. There are multiple pairs of legs surrounding me. Some kick at me, sending me crawling around the circle in which I’m trapped. No matter which way I scramble, someone reaches out to push me back toward the middle. I feel something wet in my hair. A boy with a large nose and beady eyes hocks up another loogie and lets it fly. It lands on my cheek and I cry out, frantically trying to wipe it away.
Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me so much? I told the truth. Claudette’s the liar. She should be here, not me. Her! Go after her!
These are not my thoughts.
From behind, someone grabs my arms and pulls them back. I struggle, but I can’t get free. I don’t know who is behind me, but their breath smells heavily of spearmint. They’re breathing heavily too. Air rushes in and out of my ear canal, making my skin wet from the saliva. My stomach churns, food threatening to escape. I can’t help it. The smell is too overpowering. The hot breath. Someone puts a hand across my eyes, yanking my head up in a painful jerking manner. I bring my fingers up to try and free myself, but I’m slapped away. Now it’s my turn to gasp for air. I wonder what my breath smells like. Crazy. I’m going crazy.
When they finally release me, the tendons in my neck groan in protest.
Why am I feeling this? I’m not alive. I’m not her.
I can hear girls laughing.
“Aww. Is the poor baby going to cry? Go ahead. No one here to help you.”
“I warned you. This is what we do to snitch bitches.”
I won’t cry. No. I refuse. I bite down on my lip and look up at the black sky, refusing to let the burning in my eyes spread across my face. Someone steps on my fingers, grinding them down with their shoes. I hear it, the exact moment when my finger cracks.
Funny. I cried with Walter. I bawled my eyes out. Begging.
But I won’t beg this time.
Because it’s not me. I’m the girl in the car. Tatum. This is her future.
The reality brings me back. Closing my eyes, I remember who I am.
I am Molly.
When I open my eyes, I’m back at the lake. Parker is waiting for me. Or maybe he’s just sitting still. It’s hard to tell. He doesn’t say anything as I reappear. He’s studying the woods to the right. He spends a lot of time looking at the trees and the way they never move. He says sometimes he thinks all the answers are hidden in the valley and we just need to discover them. I’m often glad I don’t have Parker’s mind. He spends far too much time inside it.
I search around for Mary and
Just think of the possibilities! If Tatum died, she’d want her parents to have her body so they could put her to rest. Molly probably has family out there somewhere. Are they still waiting around the house, a small flicker of hope rushing through them every time the phone rings or someone knocks on the door? Is it possible they’ve been waiting over forty years for news of their wayward daughter? If Tatum can solve the mystery, she’ll be a hero in their eyes.
And what about Molly’s killer? What if there’s evidence on the body that could bring him or her to justice? What kind of cool-ass justice could that end up being?
Crawling under the covers, she smiles to herself as she turns out the light. She’s already forgotten the warning that the ghost gave her; the words
You’re going to die
have escaped her memory.
That’s her first big mistake.
MOLLY
No. Oh, no.
Please, God, no.
I can’t get the images out of my mind. Even though I’m no longer in the car, no longer touching the girl’s skin, the vision refuses to let go. It’s gotten inside me, twisting and turning things around until I can’t actually tell if it’s happening to me personally.
It’s like being tortured all over again.
I’m on the ground. There are multiple pairs of legs surrounding me. Some kick at me, sending me crawling around the circle in which I’m trapped. No matter which way I scramble, someone reaches out to push me back toward the middle. I feel something wet in my hair. A boy with a large nose and beady eyes hocks up another loogie and lets it fly. It lands on my cheek and I cry out, frantically trying to wipe it away.
Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me so much? I told the truth. Claudette’s the liar. She should be here, not me. Her! Go after her!
These are not my thoughts.
From behind, someone grabs my arms and pulls them back. I struggle, but I can’t get free. I don’t know who is behind me, but their breath smells heavily of spearmint. They’re breathing heavily too. Air rushes in and out of my ear canal, making my skin wet from the saliva. My stomach churns, food threatening to escape. I can’t help it. The smell is too overpowering. The hot breath. Someone puts a hand across my eyes, yanking my head up in a painful jerking manner. I bring my fingers up to try and free myself, but I’m slapped away. Now it’s my turn to gasp for air. I wonder what my breath smells like. Crazy. I’m going crazy.
When they finally release me, the tendons in my neck groan in protest.
Why am I feeling this? I’m not alive. I’m not her.
I can hear girls laughing.
“Aww. Is the poor baby going to cry? Go ahead. No one here to help you.”
“I warned you. This is what we do to snitch bitches.”
I won’t cry. No. I refuse. I bite down on my lip and look up at the black sky, refusing to let the burning in my eyes spread across my face. Someone steps on my fingers, grinding them down with their shoes. I hear it, the exact moment when my finger cracks.
Funny. I cried with Walter. I bawled my eyes out. Begging.
But I won’t beg this time.
Because it’s not me. I’m the girl in the car. Tatum. This is her future.
The reality brings me back. Closing my eyes, I remember who I am.
I am Molly.
When I open my eyes, I’m back at the lake. Parker is waiting for me. Or maybe he’s just sitting still. It’s hard to tell. He doesn’t say anything as I reappear. He’s studying the woods to the right. He spends a lot of time looking at the trees and the way they never move. He says sometimes he thinks all the answers are hidden in the valley and we just need to discover them. I’m often glad I don’t have Parker’s mind. He spends far too much time inside it.
I search around for Mary and
Similar Books
