All evening Rosie thought about the things she and Jay talked about. Though she'd always had the ability to see spirits and auras, they had intensified later in life, as had her knack for knowing things about people without them telling her. She hadn’t said it to him but, much like Jay's gifts being triggered by an accident, hers were also the result of a traumatic incident

As a child, her mother had been charged with possession of a controlled substance, prostitution, neglect and endangering the welfare of a child. It struck her as strange that her mother had been sent to jail for neglecting her and then the state sent her to a foster care system that did the same thing. Home after home, some rejecting her after a few days, some she'd run from herself. Not until Butch and Erin Hardy offered to take her in did she finally think she’d found a stable home.

Years later, when her mother was released from jail, Rosie had been sent to live with her again. Things had been okay at first and after a tentative getting to know each other period they tried to learn how to live together again.

When she’d talked about the things she saw, her mother screamed about the devil controlling her mind. There’d been a series of punishments that involved being locked in a closet and having her mother's red hot crucifix branded to her chest.

Still, Rosie refused to lie and tell her mother what she wanted to hear.

One night her mother had raged and come at her with fists flying. Rosie could still smell the candles her mother burned as the rain tapped on the windows. She could still feel the carpet pile shifting under her neck as her mother pressed her down and she fought wildly for her life. The weight on her stomach as her mother straddled her, hands around her daughter’s throat, squeezing until the screams died and there was nothing but a black abyss.

Rosie had woken the following day, strapped to a hospital bed, and like Jay, could see things she didn't want to see. Auras surrounded her, billowing from everyone that came in her room. Every time someone came in her room Rosie was blasted with a laundry list of patient care needs, family schedules, and money woes. She somehow knew her doctor was planning to play a round of golf after work and that his daughter's bedroom was painted a sunny yellow. She knew their mother's names and where they born and how they liked their coffee.

Whatever her mother had done to her, whatever she’d seen on the other side, had changed her for good.

She was looking forward to talking with Jay again and felt almost hopeful about clearing up whatever was blocking her energy.

Rosie had taken to tying her wrist to the bed frame, in hopes of preventing her from sleep walking. The first few times it hadn't worked but she'd started using more complicated knots and it seemed to do the trick. She went to bed eager to wake up and start the new day.

* * *

She was standing in the middle of Butch Hardy’s precinct.

She remembered the blue and cream colored tiles on the wall.

It was empty, which she’d never seen before, the lights low, their persistent buzz absent. She took the few steps to Butch’s desk. As usual, it was littered with coffee mugs and empty antacid tubes. There was a picture of Butch, Erin and little Michael.

There had never been a picture taken with her and Michael. She’d only met him a handful of times, Erin was well and tired of the ghost show and Happy was long gone by the time he was born.

“Who brought me here?” She asked the empty room.

“I did,” a woman’s voice came from the darkness.

Rosie stained to see into the void. “Where are you?”

Rosie took a step back when a woman stepped out of the shadows.

A few years older than Rosie, the woman was dressed in jeans and a sweater. Familiar clear blue eyes stared back at her, as though she was looking in a mirror. Even the woman’s hair was the same shade Rosie’s had been before it had changed.

“You’re me,” Rosie breathed, taking another step back.

She shook her head. “You’re Happy. I’m Toby.”

“Rosie,” she corrected automatically.

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be here.”

“You brought me here, didn’t you?” Rosie asked. “Who are you?”

Toby casually walked to Butch’s desk and ran her fingers across the surface. “You sat here once.”

Rosie thought back to the day her mother was arrested. She’d sat right where the other woman was sitting.

“I did. I liked it here,” she admitted.

“I imagine it felt safe here, far more than where you’d been.” She looked up at Rosie through her lashes. “You were lucky to get away from her when you did.”

“Who? My mom?”

“She would have tried to ruin you.”

“She did ruin me, just later than she would have liked.”

The woman shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “No. You’re better off than you think, Happy. I’ll be coming for you soon.”

Rosie tilted her head, confusion etching a line across her forehead. “You’re the one coming for me?”

“Not now.” Toby smiled. “He needs you first. I’ll come later. Close your eyes.”

Rosie did, the idea of not trusting her never entered Rosie’s mind. It was a dream after all.

“You have to go now,” the stranger said.

Rosie opened her eyes and stood in Max’s living room. He was sleeping on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table, the TV on quietly in the background.

Rosie was startled when Max’s dog friend barked loudly at the door.

“You have to go now,” Toby repeated.

“Go where?”

“You can’t be late.”

Rosie clenched her fists. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“Don’t be late.”

Before she could respond there was a rumble, like an earthquake beneath her feet. She turned to see a ball of flames coming at her. The heat was incredible and her skin blistered and peeled as the fire rocketed directly through her.

Her eyes snapped open as she shot up off the bed, the heat from the explosion still on her skin.

Max.

She had to get to Max.

She let out a startled scream when the dog appeared inside her camper. It paced from the bed to the door, and back again, barking all the while. It stopped at the door, barked and ran back to her, only to bark again.

It barked one last time then ran straight through the door to the outside. Rosie untied her wrist, and threw on her jeans and a sweatshirt. She opened the door, the dog running from the camper to her bike, barking.

This was Max’s spirit guide. It stayed with Max all the time. If it was here, trying to get her attention, it was only because there was something wrong with Max. The dog’s appearance, in addition to her dream, instilled a sense of urgency that made her rush as if Max’s life depended on it.

“Is it Max?” She asked. If anything, the dog went even more berserk and ran down the driveway toward the road. Rosie ran to her bike, flipped on the flashlight attached the handlebars and followed.

The more the dog barked the faster Rosie pedaled.

There were no cars on the road and she made it to Max’s, skidding into the driveway. She followed the dog up the porch steps and it ran through the front door, then stood in the entryway barking at her through the glass. Pressing her face to the door, hands cupped around her eyes, Rosie searched for Max. The light from the TV lit the living room and she could see his boots resting on the coffee table. She pounded on the door, hoping she could get his attention. What she would say to him when he answered the door, she didn’t know.

The dog was barking at Max, then running back to bark at her. Max didn’t move at all. She used the flat of her hand to bang on the glass this time calling his name, making more of a racket and still, Max’s boots were unmoving.

“Shit,” she muttered, trying the doorknob.

Locked, of course. Panicked, she tried a few windows but when she caught sight of Max, unresponsive in the living room, she went into full on rescue mode. Using her elbow, she closed her eyes and broke the glass on the front door.

“Max!” She yelled as she ran straight to him.

The dog continued to bark and ran from her to the front door and back again, telling her to get out of the house. She pushed away all thoughts of the house going up in a fireball and concentrated on getting Max up and out.

“Max, can you hear me?” She yelled, shaking his shoulder. He looked as though he was peacefully sleeping, yet no amount of yelling would wake him.

That was when terror set in.

He couldn’t die, she wouldn’t let him.

He was too funny. Too caring and sexy to be on the other side, beyond her reach. There was no way she was letting him die and if his damn dog wanted him out of the house, then she was going to get him out of the house.

She stood on the couch and put her arms under him from behind and pulled. She dragged him, one painful step at a time, out of that damn house.

Her breathing was ragged and her legs were on fire but she got him, gently even, down the porch stairs and well away from the house in case it did explode.

She groped in Max’s pocket and sucked in a breath when she found his cell phone. She swiped the screen and stared for a second.

It was a picture of her holding the lamb.

She’d deal with that later. Going into the contacts she pulled up Dallas’s number but he didn’t answer, so she hung up and dialed again. And then again. On the fourth try he answered.

“Jesus, Max, I’m a little busy,”

“It’s Rosie. There’s something wrong with Max! Come quick! Help!”

She could hear the change in Dallas’ voice immediately. “Where are you?”

“Max’s. I followed the dog and Max is here but he won’t wake up.” Her rambling sounded panicked even to her own mind.

“I’ll call for help and call you right back okay. I’m across town so it’ll take me a minute to get to you.”

“You have to help him. He won’t wake up.”

“I’ll call you right back, Rosie. Just stay with him.”

“Okay,” she whispered as he hung up. She sat on her butt and pulled Max’s head into her lap.

“Wake up, Max. Please.” She ran her shaking fingers through his hair and talked to him, hoping he’d wake up.

He was breathing well, she could see that easily enough, but he wasn’t waking up. She kept her eyes glued to the phone in her hand waiting for Dallas to call her back.

It was a few minutes before he finally did.

“He’s still not awake,” she said by way of answering.

“Shit,” he said quietly. “I called it in. The fire department’s worried about carbon monoxide. Do you hear any alarms going off?”

She shook her head and then realized he couldn’t see her. “No.”

“Everyone’s on their way, Rosie. They shouldn’t be long. Talk to me.”

“I just want him to wake up.” It came out on a sob.

“I know. Me too.” His voice was calm and even. “Tell me what happened.”

She took a deep breath. “He just looked like he was sleeping on the couch but didn’t move when I knocked on the door.”

“And you just stopped by at two in the morning?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Max!” She called again.

This time he let out a deep moan and winced at her voice.

“I think he’s waking up,” she told Dallas.

“Oh, thank God,” Dallas breathed in her ear. “Keep trying to get him awake. I’ll be there soon.”

She hung up and concentrated on Max.

Still stroking his hair, she leaned her face close to his. “Max. Can you hear me?”

“Rosie?” He whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened to you?”

“Huh?” He opened his eyes then slammed them shut.

“I can see the lights, Max. They’re coming to help you, okay. Just hang on for me.”

She was surprised at the sheer number of people that poured out of the fire trucks and ambulances. Suddenly it went from she and Max and a ghost dog to the three of them plus twenty.

The EMTs ran over. “What’ve we got?” One asked.

“I don’t know,” she said desperately as she relayed the story about finding him unresponsive.

“Let’s get him on one hundred percent oxygen.”

They went to work while the fire department went into the house.

Rosie stood and took a few steps back, giving them room to work. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and didn’t take her eyes off him. They poked and prodded him and checked his vitals numerous times. He started to come around after a few minutes, complaining of nausea and a headache.

When he finally opened his eyes to look at the medics, Rosie took an instinctive step further into the darkness.

“We’ve got seriously dangerous CO2 levels here,” a fireman told the EMTs when he came out of the house.

“We’re going to transport to the hospital, then.”

“We’ll get the house taken care of and wait for the PD here.”

Dallas’ truck screeched into the driveway and he ran to Max’s side. Rosie took another step back, deeper into the shadows.

Dallas would ask questions. He’d want to know what she was doing here or why she was knocking on the door so late. She couldn’t answer those questions. She could barely stand there while they wheeled Max to the ambulance. She wanted to go with him. She wanted to hold his hand and be there for him.

But she didn’t know how.

“Max!” Dallas came running to the ambulance.

“He’s going to have to get to the hospital, Hunter. Are you in or out?” The EMT asked.

“In.” Dallas didn’t hesitate.

They pushed Max’s gurney into the ambulance and went to close the doors. Dallas’ head shot up and he grabbed the door, stopping it.

“Rosie?” He yelled, looking around the yard. He looked right past the shadow she was standing in and yelled again. She stood stock still not daring to move. He shook his head and sat back down, the door closing on his face. As they drove away, Rosie skulked through the darkness all the way home.

She wished she had the courage to jump in that ambulance with Max. She liked him, she truly did. When she was with him she felt safe. Being with him made her feel normal.

She’d had acquaintances the last few years but those relationships had all been on the surface. The way she felt about the people she’d met in Jacob’s Beach was so much more than that. The way they made her feel was as close to whole than she’d been in her entire life, like maybe she belonged somewhere.

Wendy may have pestered her until she’d given in, but deep down, she’d never regret it. Wendy was strong and independent, yet fun and bit brash.

Max had an inviting energy surrounding him. Everything he did and said had an underlying current behind it that made her feel welcome. She felt at home when he asked her to have lunch with him. She felt welcome to be herself and even let go a little bit.

Even Dallas, who she didn’t know well, seemed to be of the belief that they were friends by proxy, because she was friends with Wendy.

So why did she take the step back? Why didn’t she step up and be the friend he’d needed?

It was easy to tell herself she hadn’t needed to because Dallas was there but that was a cop out. She’d done it because she was a coward that was too afraid of opening herself up and getting to know people. In her life, when that happened, they all left her. She was terrified she’d open herself to someone and they’d leave her too.

Max told her he’d believe her. When they’d been in the barn with the lamb he all but told her he knew she could see something. It was easy to pretend his smiles didn’t affect her at all or that his kindness wasn’t melting her carefully constructed defenses. Pretending and acting were what her whole life was built on. Those came much easier than being herself.

Rosie waited out the rest of the morning hours wide awake on her fake patio, running through the night’s events before heading to town. She chained her bike to a bench and hopped a bus to town. She was tempted to call Wendy to ask how Max was but she didn’t want to intrude and she was afraid Wendy would make a big deal out of her asking.

She showed up at The Third Eye as Jay came out of the alley to the storefront.

“Hey,” he smiled in greeting. “You’re here early.”

She nodded, exhausted and distracted by constant thoughts of Max.

“You’re like, vibrating.” He unlocked the door and let her in but kept the store sign on closed and locked the door behind her.

She looked at the lock and then back to him.

“I thought you’d want privacy but I can unlock it and open the store.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he argued. “I don’t want you to worry at all. I’ll unlock it and we’ll just have coffee like yesterday.”

After opening the door, he started the coffee, then went to the glass case where the cash register was and rooted around. She went through the aisle of books and sat at the little round table they’d sat at the day before. She angled her chair so she could see out the front window and watched traffic pass by until Jay came in, juggling coffee and a tray.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” she apologized and helped him set the things on the table. “I should have asked if you needed help.”

He laughed. “Happy, you’re so distracted I don’t think you would have heard me if I did ask.”

A lump formed in her throat as she grabbed the table with one hand to steady herself. “Please don’t call me that.”

He sat down as though nothing had happened. “Well, if you want your energies cleansed that’s something you’re going to have to deal with. You’re root chakra is in need of some serious overhaul.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she told him. “I’ve never seen a chakra.”

He spent a little time explaining the seven charkas and how he saw them, like her with auras.

“Yesterday, when I told you that you blasted me with energy? It all came from here.” He held his throat. “Bright blue. Super happy. Relief.”

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“That’s the fifth charka, the throat. Symbolizes communication. Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

She tried to think back to the exact point in their conversation but her mind was swirling with too many emotions to concentrate.

“You told me you’d never talked to anyone about the spirits before. It blew your throat charka wide open. Huge deal, by the way.” He leaned forward. “Now, we have to work on the rest.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“We don’t.” When she opened her mouth he interrupted. “Not today, at least. You’re too distracted. Whatever’s going on has you too worked up to be productive.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s only ten,” he laughed.

“Don’t tell me that,” she sighed.

“I was thinking we could get some crystals picked out for you. Cleanse them, dedicate them, that kind of stuff.” When she looked lost he rolled his eyes. “They correlate to your charkas and will help keep you grounded. I can teach you some meditation techniques too. I think will do you some good.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

He waved her off. “Are you kidding? This is why I opened the shop. If you’re the only real psychic I ever help, then I’m happy with that.”

She was about to argue with him about not being psychic when she saw Dallas’ big blue truck screech up to the curb. Quickly jumping out of her chair, bag in hand she hid behind a huge column of bookcases.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She pressed a finger to her lips and begged him with her eyes to not give her up.

The cheery bell over the door sounded. “Rosie!” Dallas voice boomed through the store. He sounded mad.

“Can I help you?” Jay made himself sound very proper and put out by Dallas’ intrusion. She had to give him credit for turning on a dime just to protect her.

“No.” She heard loud footsteps coming closer. “Rosie!”

“She’s not here.” Jay sounded exasperated, his voice getting closer as well.

“Yeah right. You always drink two cups of coffee by yourself?”

He was so observant.

“My boyfriend was just here,” Jay said with all the flair of a scandalized Scarlett O’Hara.

“No, he wasn’t,” Dallas argued. “Where the hell is she?”

His footsteps halted a few feet away her.

“Don’t you think if she wanted to be found, she would be. Give her some space.”

“Yeah, well, when she calls you in the middle of night crying for help and then disappears, let me know how much space you’d be giving her.”

His angry footsteps started again but this time heading away from her. The bells jingled again but the door didn’t close.

“Just tell me she’s alright,” Dallas’s voice was soft. “If you won’t tell me where the hell she is, at least give me that much.”

Jay heaved a sigh. “She’s alright.”

The door closed with a near silent click.

“What the hell was that?” Jay’s annoyed voice came from across the room.

She leaned her head against the bookcase behind her and berated herself for being such an idiot.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

“Yes, you do. Now get out here and explain.”

She came out from her hiding spot but didn’t get any closer.

“I get a good vibe from him,” Jay told her when she just stood there looking ashamed. “He’s a doer, that one. Take charge. In control.”

“Smart,” she agreed. “Observant.”

“Can you read him?” He asked.

She shrugged. “It’s more of an echo now than a true read.”

“Unlike you, his root chakra is very clean. Totally in sync.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she told him again, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.

“Let’s get you set up with some rocks of your own.” He held out a hand to her. “Meditate a little. Then you can spill your pretty little guts to me about calling that handsome man in the middle of night.”