by Sarah Kuhn
“Jessie?” I guessed.
“That’s me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at us. The expression . . . the move . . . was so Bea Tanaka Circa Her Tween/Teen Years, I lost my breath.
“We’re friends of Julie’s—from Morgan,” I clarified. “I’m Eliza, and this is Angelica and Tess. We’ve been really worried about her and—”
“How did you find us?” Jessie said, glower still firmly in place. “No one is supposed to know we’re here. They made us sign something—”
“What?” Aveda said, her eyes narrowing. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“The college,” Jessie said. “I signed an NDA and I’m not supposed to talk to anyone—”
“You can talk to us,” I said, attempting to sound reassuring. I studied Jessie, trying to get a read on her. She was doing her best to project total hostility, but her hands were shaking ever so slightly.
She wasn’t just angry. She was scared.
She noticed me staring and uncrossed her arms, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Jessie,” I said, holding my hands out imploringly. “I don’t think you can trust the college, Julie would tell you—”
“I have to,” Jessie hissed.
The officious receptionist looked up from her desk, frowning our way.
Jessie made a face and stepped closer to us, lowering her voice.
“I can’t pay for all this,” she said, gesturing to the hospital. “Julie and I are on our own, we don’t even have health insurance. The college offered to cover everything, as long as I signed that NDA and didn’t tell anyone where we were. Julie . . . she’s in and out of consciousness, and nobody knows exactly what’s wrong with her. I can’t lose her. I can’t—” Her voice cracked and she bit her lip hard, her eyes going glassy.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “It’s gonna be okay, Jessie, I promise. We’ll go.”
“What?!” Aveda spat out.
“We’ll go,” I repeated more firmly, giving her a look. “But . . .” I reached into my pocket and fished out a piece of paper. Tess, sensing what I was doing, pulled a pen from their coat pocket and handed it to me. “Here,” I said, scrawling my number on the paper. I held it out to Jessie. “Call me any time. I just want to help you—and Julie.”
Jessie stared at the paper for a moment, plucking nervously at her shirt sleeve. Then she snatched it from me and stuffed it in her pocket.
“Thanks,” she said gruffly, her gaze sliding from side to side.
I nodded at her, and motioned for Aveda and Tess to follow me out the door.
“What was that?” Aveda demanded, once we’d gotten back outside. “We came all this way for nothing?”
“Not nothing,” I said. “Now we know Julie’s here—”
“But we didn’t get to see her—”
“Jessie has our number now—”
“Which she’ll never call—”
“Guys,” Tess interjected, tapping me on the shoulder. “I have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it,” Aveda huffed, still glaring daggers at me.
“Since I was standing a little behind you, I saw what room Jessie came out of,” Tess said. “I think I can figure out where that room’s window is.” They gestured to the rows of dimly lit windows dotting the building.
“Tess!” I exclaimed. “That’s brilliant!”
“I like to be observant,” they said, giving a modest shrug.
“So . . . what, we’re going to bang on her window like creepers?” Aveda said. “What if Jessie’s in there, too? She’ll murder us.”
“I don’t think she’s going to actually murder us,” I said, rolling my eyes. “She has to leave the room at some point. We’ll wait her out. And creepers or not, at least we’ll have a shot at talking to Julie.”
“Fine,” Aveda said, her gaze locking on the building, her eyes narrowing with determination. “Tess, show us where you think the window is.”
Tess led us around the corner to the side of the building—which, unfortunately, seemed to be overrun with weeds.
“Seriously,” Aveda groaned, as we tried to stealthily move through a wild tangle of greenery nearly as tall as we were, “is this place haunted, too?”
After we’d all managed to scratch at least one body part on an errant thorn (and I’d stepped in something that I was pretty sure was poison ivy), Tess finally pointed emphatically at a small first story window. It was low enough for all of us to peer into, but just barely—the bottom ledge was right at chin-level.
I crouched down and motioned for Aveda and Tess to do the same. “Stay down,” I whispered to them. Then I stood up a little straighter to surreptitiously peek into the window.
And there was Julie Vũ. It was weird to finally see her after thinking nearly non-stop about her for several days. She was lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV. The bed was positioned near the wall with the window—good news for us, Julie should be able to hear us and we wouldn’t have to yell, thereby attracting unwanted attention. The window was closer to the foot of the bed, however, so she might not be able to see us very well. Her face was pale, her long black hair a tangled nest. But she appeared to be mostly awake, her eyes cloudy and staring vacantly at the blaring TV attached to the wall opposite her bed.
I let out a long, shaky exhale. She was okay.
“What’s going on—is she in there?” Aveda hissed, tugging on my sleeve.
“Yes.” I nodded vigorously. “She looks pretty wiped out, but she’s awake.”
“Let me talk to her!” Tess said eagerly, popping out of their crouch to stand next to me. “Oh . . .” Tess’s gaze landed on Julie and their eyes lit up. “It’s really her.” A slow smile spread across their face, and they reached up to brush tears out of their eyes.
“Shhh!” Aveda poked Tess in the arm.
“No sign of Jessie,” I whispered. “But we may not have much time. Angelica, can you open the window?”
“What?” Tess’s brow crinkled. “How are we going to open it from the outside?”
“Angelica has, er, special skills,” I said, exchanging a glance with Aveda. “But Tess, would you mind not looking while she picks the lock? It stresses her out if she thinks people are watching.”
“Sure, whatever,” Tess said, shrugging and turning their back.
Aveda stood up straight. Zeroed in on the window’s locking mechanism, which we could see from her vantage point.
“I’ve got this,” she murmured, focusing extra hard.
I heard a few clicks as the locking mechanism undid itself—Aveda’s telekinesis at work. Then the window slowly creaked open.
“Done,” Aveda said, and Tess turned back around.
“What?” Julie called out, her voice wavery and hoarse. “Did . . . did someone just open the window? Who’s there?”
I felt a jolt upon hearing Julie’s voice again. It made that whole night come rushing back—the ghost, my fire, her terrified face . . .
“Julie!” Tess hissed. “It’s me, it’s Tess! Oh god, you’re okay, I’m just so happy you’re . . .” Their voice cracked and they bit their lip hard.
“Tess!” Julie sounded more alert now. I peered more closely into the window and saw her trying to sit up in bed, trying to make us out in the dark. “Tess, you can’t be here, you have to go—”
Tess shook their head, tears streaming down their cheeks. “N-no, I can’t . . .” They bowed their head, stuffing a hand in their mouth to muffle the sobs.
“Who’s that with you?” Julie asked. “All I can see from here are shadowy blobs.”
“Julie, it’s me,” I said. “Your, uh . . .”
Aw, shit. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I might have to break cover in front of Tess.
“It’s Evie,” Aveda said, throwing me a desperate shrug. “That
’s one of Eliza’s many nicknames,” she whispered to Tess—but at that point, Tess was crying too hard to hear her. I didn’t think they were picking up on any of our conversation.
“Evie!” Julie exclaimed, her eyes widening. “I told you not to trust them. The college.”
“I know,” I said. “And I don’t. And Julie, I’m just so happy you’re okay.” I felt myself tearing up and blinked hard, determined to maintain my composure. Poor Tess was crying enough for both of us. “We have so many questions for you, we’re trying to help all the students at Morgan. But first, can you explain what you meant by that—what exactly did they do? Does it have something to do with the theory you and Tess were working on—about the fusing of demonic and ghostly energies?”
“And what were you doing that was so dangerous?” Tess gasped out, looking up from their tears. “Why didn’t you tell me . . .” They shook their head, burying their face in their hands.
“I mean, there’s a lot to tell and I . . .” Julie glanced nervously at the door, as if waiting for Jessie or the officious receptionist to appear. “I don’t have much time. But there’s a place you can start . . .” She paused for so long, Aveda and I exchanged a glance—it felt like we were both holding our breath, waiting for more precious keys to unlocking the hauntings. “Check the Morgan donor records,” Julie finally said. “Not the ones that are listed publicly, like in the alum newsletter. The confidential donor records.”
“How?” Aveda said, hopping from one foot to the other. I couldn’t tell if she was impatient or cold. Probably both. “If they’re confidential, how do we check them? Oh, this is Angelica—I’m also part of this, uh, investigation.”
“They’re in Provost Glennon’s office,” Julie said, leaning forward, her eyes flashing with urgency. “On her laptop if it’s there, but if not, there’s a drawer at the bottom of her desk where she keeps paper copies of certain sensitive records. It’s really tiny, almost hidden under the tabletop of the desk.”
“What are we going to find there?” Aveda pressed, hopping back and forth more aggressively. “Why can’t you just tell us whatever this supposedly crucial information is?”
“I can’t,” Julie said. Her eyes were glued to the door—and she looked terrified. “And I can’t explain more than that, I . . .”
“Julie,” I said. “Listen, I understand what you’re going through. What you’re dealing with.”
“You do?” she said, sounding skeptical.
“Yeah, I . . .” I paused and turned to Aveda. “Can you take Tess back to the car? I’ll catch up.”
“What?!” Tess’s head snapped up, tears still flowing down their cheeks. “No! I . . . I . . .” They dissolved into tears again.
“It’s okay, Tess,” I said gently. “We’re going to help her, I promise—but I need you to go now. I need to talk to Julie alone. Please?”
Tess didn’t protest further as Aveda led them away, tripping back through the weeds.
I turned back to the window. Julie was slumped against her pillows, but her face was alert. Still listening.
“That night in the theater, you said you had to take care of your sister—Jessie,” I said. “That you couldn’t die. That was me, too, during grad school. My sister and I were each other’s only family, and I . . .” My voice cracked. I desperately needed Julie to see that I was on her side. That I did understand. “I always felt like I was fighting this unending battle. Like I was never going to win. But above all—I only wanted to protect my sister. I wanted her to be okay.”
There was another long pause. I held my breath.
“I . . . I signed something,” Julie finally said, her voice flat—but I could hear all the regret and sadness underneath. “The college made me sign something. Or they’d come after me, they’d come after Jessie—”
“Who made you sign something?” I pressed. “And did it have anything to do with what you and Tess were looking into—”
“Jules, why is the window open?!” Jessie’s stressed-out voice rang out through the room, ratcheting my adrenaline all the way up.
I dropped back into my crouch, out of sight, breathing hard, my heart beating a million miles a minute.
“You’ll catch a cold or something—on top of what’s already happening to you,” Jessie admonished. “You shouldn’t even be awake right now.” I heard her footsteps pad across the room, and then the window slammed shut.
I counted to ten, forcing myself to take deep breaths in and out. Then I slowly picked my way back through the weeds and to the car.
“Well?” Aveda demanded, as soon as I got in.
“We need to get those donor records,” I said. “And I have an idea.”
I turned to Tess in the back seat. They appeared to have calmed down a bit, snuffling and dabbing their sleeves against their red-rimmed eyes.
“Tess, Angelica and I need to go on that ghost crawl,” I said. “I think we can kill two spirits with one stone.”
From the files of the secret ghost-hunting society of Morgan College
TIPS ’N’ TRICKS FOR A SUCCESSFUL GHOST CRAWL!
Greetings paranormal enthusiasts! The time is finally upon us for our most venerated holiday—Halloween! We know there are some in our greater community who consider this time of year “amateur hour,” but we truly believe any level of ghost appreciation is valid. Therefore we, the current collective membership of the secret ghost-hunting society of Morgan College, would like to take this opportunity to give you (that’s our future members—we are hoping the society will live for years to come! But keep this file in the society, please, we’re still a secret!) some tips in order to best enjoy one of our favorite traditions—the annual Halloween hauntings ghost crawl!
The premise is fairly simple—shortly before Halloween, we meet at midnight and tour our campus’ most famous haunted locales to see if the spirits might pay us a visit. We then share and record our findings for the generations to come! Here are our simple tips to have the best, most haunted crawl possible!
1. DO dress up in your Halloween finest! Costumes are a great way to bond with your fellow members and bring a heightened sense of festivity to the proceedings!
2. DO attempt to commune with the spirits however you wish! We believe this is a fabulous opportunity to put all our theorizing to the test—perhaps you’ll be the first person to see the late, great Clementine Caldwell!
3. DO NOT put down other members if their attempts at spirit interaction are unsuccessful! We’re all at different levels of our spirit journeys, and we need to be respectful of that.
4. DO NOT eat candy corn or other especially crunchy snacks! We know the urge is great—believe us!—but we’ve discovered this tends to be disruptive to the spirits and also last year we got in trouble for getting the banister in Morgan Hall all sticky.
5. DO NOT be late! Midnight, Morgan Hall. That’s the tradition and we’re sticking to it. It’s best if we go in as a group, tour each location as a group, and leave as a group. We’re all in this together!
6. DO have a great time! This is an amazing opportunity to bond with both your fellow society members and the famous spirits of Morgan. And we can all eat candy corn afterward. Happy Halloween!
CHAPTER TWENTY
“ARE WE SURE this is what one wears to a Halloween ghost crawl?” Aveda asked, scrutinizing her reflection in the mirror. It was the following night and we were preparing for our adventure. “I think maybe I look too good.”
“What, you assumed we’d be in baggy camouflage and ski masks or something?” I retorted, giving her an amused look.
“I thought maybe a little more of an incognito style would be involved, yes,” she said, laughing a little. “I feel positively ostentatious.”
“Just the way you like it,” I teased. “But Tess said costumes are part of the Halloween ghost crawl tradition.”
I joined he
r in front of the mirror, scoping us out. We’d joked briefly about wearing our official Evie and Aveda costumes—and maybe swapping them so we’d be dressed like each other. But we’d gone with The Heroic Trio—well, two thirds of the Trio. Aveda was in the stylish green spandex of Wonder Woman (no relation to the other Wonder Woman), while I’d opted for the bright red catsuit of Invisible Girl. And I had to say, we looked fabulous.
Coming up with our costumes and getting ready together was strangely . . . fun. A bit of light-heartedness in the midst of worrying about Julie and Shelby and Pippa and Tess and wondering if my husband and I were ever going to speak again.
I took a deep breath, focused on our reflections in the mirror, and tried to push aside the stab of utter sadness that shot through me whenever I thought of Nate. I still didn’t know how to fix things between us. I’d heard back from Doctor Goo, whose tests for supernatural components in my blood had proved inconclusive—and who had reiterated that everything seemed good and healthy with me and the baby. I’d texted Nate to let him know, and he’d just texted back, “OK, thank you.” Even though that shouldn’t have stung so hard, it did. I didn’t know that this “time apart” was really helping us.
But . . . well, if Aveda and I could pull off this part of the mission, maybe it would at least bring us a little closer to figuring out this whole ghost thing and protecting the students of Morgan. So for now, I shoved aside my feelings and focused on that.
“We’ll have to get Bea some leathers and goggles so she can be Thief Catcher,” Aveda said, straightening her mask and swirling her cape around her. “It’s almost a shame we have to glamour ourselves. Remember how we always wanted to dress up as the Trio for Halloween?”
“Yes, and I also remember that we never did, because one, our parents couldn’t afford all the stuff we needed for screen-accurate costumes, and two, we could never agree on who got to be Invisible Girl,” I said, poking her in the arm. “And then there was that one year when you decided you were going to dress up as her without telling me.”
“Yesssssss,” she said, her eyes shifting from side to side. “And my mother, in her infinite wisdom, sewed me a costume out of a bunch of old socks and dyed it red—everyone thought I was trying to be Clifford, the big red dog. Or, as some of our more racist classmates put it, Clifford the big red Asian dog. Because white people get dibs on every fucking character, even dogs.”