Charlotte
I wiped my clammy hands on my pants and swallowed down the dry lump in my throat. Why was I so thirsty? Slowly, I spun around, taking in the room. It didn’t matter that I had known where I was going—or rather I knew where I was trying to go—the shock of seeing my own body lying motionless in a hospital bed hit me like a bucket of ice water. I’d heard of out-of-body experiences, but nothing could really prepare a person for a moment like this.
My gaze darted around the room, disbelief stinging my senses. My father was facing the window with his arms crossed. From his reflection in the glass, I could see his eyes were closed and his lips were moving, and I realized he was praying. I strained to hear what he was saying.
Forgive me. Please do not take her. She is the only child that I have left. Have mercy.
He was in pain. It was stitched across his face, creases of worry and fear tapered in the corners of his eyes. My heart softened, and a little of the hurt I still felt seeped out. Even with our differences, I would never wish him pain. My mother sat in a chair next to my bed, holding my hand, wiping her nose with a tissue that had reached its expiration about seven thousand wipes before.
Then I saw George—my beautiful husband. He was slumped against the wall, like a sad discarded painting—out of the way, but still casting his despair upon the room, adding to the incredibly sad ambiance.
“The results from her latest EEG this morning show no change from her previous one. While that is an indication that she’s stable, there is also no indication that she will come out of the coma.” The statement came from a doctor I hadn’t seen standing in the corner of the room. He looked equally exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes clearly visible behind the thick black-framed glasses perched on his narrow nose.
“It’s only been a few days,” my father grumbled.
“George,” the doctor said, ignoring my father. “You’ll remember we discussed the importance of seeing improvement during the first seventy-two hours after her surgery. The fact we were able to repair the aneurysm before it ruptured, and her subsequent scans showing no indication of bleeding, bought her some time, but we have no way of knowing the cumulative effects from the aneurysm pressing on her brain. In the unlikely scenario where she does wake up, she will have cognitive and mental impairments, some of which may be permanent. Even in a best-case scenario, she will require extensive rehabilitation and palliative care. Worst case, she’ll be fully dependent on medical assistance with little to no quality of life.”
“We’d take care of her,” my mother whimpered.
“Yes, we would,” my father confirmed.
My chest constricted and anger punched at me. Were they serious? Their daughter seeing spirits was too daunting for them, so much so they sent me away, but they were all in with signing on to care for me when I would literally not be able to care for myself? I couldn’t believe they’d let me wake up and live as a vegetable. What in the hell kind of life would that be? I knew I was the only child they had left, and they did not want to lose me, but it was ridiculous.
Looking back at George, I hoped I could see where his mind was. “George!” I called to him. Of course he couldn’t hear me, but that didn’t stop me. “Don’t let that happen to me, George,” I begged. He let his head fall forward to hang limply. Grief had stripped him. He still looked like George—brown eyes and shaggy hair—but this ordeal had taken its toll and he more closely resembled the man I had met years before, when he was mourning the loss of his brother, than the man who’d stood by my side ready to conquer the world just a short time ago.
After a moment, the doctor sighed and turned back to George. “Look, I’m not saying you have to decide right this minute. However, in my experience, we’ve crossed over the line and the odds are now against us, and she will begin to deteriorate. The body just isn’t built to withstand prolonged medical intervention, and you will need to decide whether or not you wish to continue life support very soon.”
My mother let out a broken sob before she fled the room, and my father rushed out after her.
“Take some time to digest all of this; I know there’s a lot to consider. I’ll have the social worker who specializes in helping families make this decision stop by later today with more information.” He patted George on the shoulder and left the room.
Now that he was alone, George seemed to deflate, the last bit of hope he’d been holding onto seeping out of him. His face was covered in scruff—he hadn’t shaved in days and his hair was disheveled. He rounded the bed, collapsing into the chair my mother had bolted from and laid his head beside me on the bed. He pulled my hand from my side and positioned it on his head, the way I did when he’d lay out on the couch and put his head in my lap. He sat motionless for a few minutes, then his body began convulsing as the sobs wrenched from deep within him.
Agony tore through me at seeing his pain. Rushing to the bed, I lunged toward him over my lifeless body and cried, “I love you, George McDermott.” His head popped up abruptly, and he looked right at me, his eyes swollen and red. I froze, stunned. Had he heard me?
A few seconds passed and his gaze fell. He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “I don’t know how to do this, Charlotte,” he rasped before swallowing hard.
More than anything, I wanted to hold him—to comfort him. “You can’t sign up for a life of caring for me, babe. You have so much to give, George.” I knew he couldn’t hear me, but I had to say these things to him. Somewhere in the back of my mind I saw the image I’d had in our hotel of him brushing a little girl’s hair…our little girl’s hair. The gentleness he had with her, the love and adoration in his smile…it was beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give her to you, George.” The tears fell, dripping down my face. “A little girl with my eyes and your hair. You deserved it. I’m so sorry I went without you that day. I should never have left you. Please,” I sobbed. “Please forgive me, George.”
The door of my hospital room opened and a thin woman with green eyes drifted in, graceful and quiet. When her eyes met mine, her step faltered, but she quickly recovered it and kept moving. Had I not spent so many years doing the same thing whenever I saw a spirit, I would have missed it, but I knew she’d seen me. Based on what Ike had told me, this had to be Marlena.
“I need to speak with you,” I told her without preamble. Her facial features tightened for a fraction of a second, but that was all the response I got.
“George, love,” she said, her thick accent the one I’d heard in my dream. “I’m going to step out for a bit, give you and your family some space. Is there anything I can get you while I’m out?”
George shook his head as he shot her an appreciative glance, “No. But thank you.”
Marlena nodded and left the room. I looked longingly at George, wishing I could comfort him. I hated to leave him in this state.
I loved Ike and George equally, but I knew that wasn’t enough. Even though my life, and overall existence, had never really fit within the box of rules, somehow I didn’t think that would let me have two soulmates in the afterlife.
I rolled my eyes at myself. How would that even work?
I started to shake that thought away, but stopped. How would it have worked if Ike hadn’t been dead when I met him? Would I have fallen in love with both men? My soul was linked to Ike, I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Being with Ike wasn’t an option while I was alive, but was that the only reason I’d fallen in love with George?
I glanced down and saw George had returned my hand to his hair, and it triggered all of the memories of our life together, and I knew I was just as linked to George as I was Ike. Maybe it wasn’t about soulmates when it came to who you’re with after you die, not really. Maybe it’s more about loving someone with your whole heart, and cherishing every moment you have, when you have them, because there’s no guarantee of how many more moments you’ll get in your life.
“You, George McDermott, are the love of my life, and you always will be.” I whispered to him. “No matter what happens. I love you.”
Determined not to get pulled under by the despair I felt, I fled the room and followed Marlena, ready to pummel her with questions as soon as we were in the hall. I drew up short at seeing more of my favorite people lingering outside my room. My in-laws sat holding hands on a bench, their heads leaned together. Cameron sat on the end near them, eyes closed with his head against the wall. Sniper leaned against the wall, fiddling with his phone. And sweet Mr. Mercer sat opposite of the McDermotts, staring blankly in front of him. He’d just lost his wife and still made the trip to New York to see me. My stomach tightened. Ike had described how awful it had been to be in limbo and see his family mourn, and now I knew how it felt. This was unbearable.
A mixture of despair and defeat lined all their faces.
“I’m going to pop out for a bit, can I bring any of you coffee or food, or anything?” Marlena asked the group. Everyone thanked her but declined. Marlena cut a quick glance at me, before heading to the elevators. I understood how frustrating it could be to have a soul talking to you when you couldn’t reveal you were seeing them to others, so I waited until the doors to the elevator shut before I spoke again.
“Hello, Marlena,” I said simply, hoping to skip the usual rigamarole and get down to business.
“Guess you figured it all out, eh? I was worried Ike wouldn’t tell you,” she said as she hit the button to take us to the lobby.
“Technically, he didn’t. I guess he was going to, but someone beat him to it.”
She snorted. “Well, you showed up at the perfect time. I take it you were there for the ‘pull the plug’ bit?”
I reared back slightly, surprised at her bluntness. “Ike mentioned you were psychic, too. I guess that means very little comes as a shock to you.”
She waggled her hand from side to side. “I can still be surprised. When I see future events, they’re usually just glimpses of what could happen, provided nothing comes along to change anything, which something usually does. I’ve just been doing this long enough to recognize the patterns,” she added with a wry smile, and I knew exactly what she meant. She crossed her arms as if she were cold and said, “Well, let’s get on with it, shall we?
“With what?”
“The girl.”
“I tried,” I huffed in defeat, realizing she meant Click. “I thought I had it figured out. I felt her shift and saw it in her eyes, but she doesn’t get it. I don’t think she knows how to cross over.”
We walked off the elevator and outside. Marlena stopped at a street cart and bought a coffee, then sat on a bench.
“Shouldn’t we be going? What if you lose your connection to me?”
“Impossible,” she murmured before removing the lid off the cup and blowing on the liquid. “I have no connection to you.”
I narrowed my stare at her. “Then how am I here?”
She winced as she took a small sip, the coffee still too hot to drink. “You brought yourself here. Why on earth would I summon you and put you in a room I wasn’t even in?” she scoffed as if I was a simpleton.
My brows lifted in surprise. I’d crossed over on my own? In the moment, I’d just thought open up your mind and go to the hospital, but I figured it was Marlena’s reach that had actually pulled me there. Knowing I’d done it on my own, and without realizing I’d done it, actually scared me a little.
“Tell me what you’ve done...with the girl,” Marlena said.
I sat beside her on the bench and sighed, “I think she’s autistic. And she likes piano...that’s why she does the fingers.” I lifted my hand and imitated Click. “Für Elise is her favorite. I played it for her on my phone and she loved it. That was the day I had the head thing.”
“I know. I saw. George kept playing that awful piano composition for you in your hospital room.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “He did?”
“Found it on your phone and thought you liked it…because you played piano. I hadn’t yet seen why you had it on your phone until I went to the Hell House.”
I shifted my gaze straight ahead, my eyes blurring with tears. I’d heard the music. I’d heard him play it for me from the other side. He was with me all along. Guilt slithered through me. How did I not know?
Marlena lowered her head. “Her last day alive...it was terrible.”
“You saw it? The other two girls I found there…” my throat felt tight. “They described some terrible things.”
“She needs our help.”
Tears overflowed and ran down my cheeks as I thought of Click. I didn’t want to fathom anything worse than I’d already come up with on my own. “It’s so unfair. How could that have happened? How could God let that happen, and then leave her there alone and in the dark?”
Marlena tilted her head. “Or maybe it’s more that God sent you to help her.”
I wiped at my face, my features contorting in disagreement. “Except I didn’t help her.”
Marlena smiled as she stood, and I followed as she began walking. “Unlike you, my gifts came to me early. I don’t really know if I was born with them, or if something that happened to me triggered it.”
“Did something happen to you?”
“My mother suffered from schizophrenia. I was too young to understand what was happening and she absolutely terrified me.” I frowned, understanding how she felt. “She tried to drown me in the bathtub when I was four because the voices told her to.”
I cringed. My parental situation wasn’t sounding so bad compared to Marlena’s.
“My mother was British, my father is American. My mother ended her life after he took me away from her.”
“That’s awful, Marlena. I’m so sorry.”
“Try seeing the spirit of your mother, the one that had just tried to drown you, and not understanding what in the hell was happening. I knew she was dead before they’d even found her body.” Marlena shuffled sideways to let a couple with a baby stroller pass by her on the sidewalk. “That required a bit of therapy,” she joked.
“And your father…how were things with him?” I was a little thrown by how eager I was to know if he’d denied the possibility of Marlena’s gift like my father had?
The smile on her face was nostalgic, and I could tell her father was very dear to her before she confirmed it. “Oh…he was wonderful. Still is. He lives down the street from me.”
I looked away so she wouldn’t see the jealousy I felt.
“We lived in America for a while. The summer I turned thirteen was a bad year for me. I was so different—I had no friends. Kids are bloody awful. No one understood me, and that made them scared of me.” Marlena’s gaze lifted and I saw a familiar pain through the sheen in her eyes. If I could have touched her, I would have. I’d felt everything she was describing. How is a person supposed to feel special, or appreciate a unique ability or gift, when the world shuts you out and rejects you.
“I’d decided I was going to end my life. Tragic tale of like mother, like daughter.” She cut her eyes to me and suddenly the sidewalk, the street, and the people passing by disappeared, and I was standing in a gas station, confused and disoriented. “I think my father sensed something was off. I think he knew I was really struggling.” I jumped when I realized Marlena was beside me in the gas station.
“What is this?” I asked. “What’s happening?”
“That’s me, right there,” she pointed. I followed her finger to a young girl with long black hair, braided down her back. She wore a yellow sweater with ultra-bright sneakers. “My style has obviously changed quite a bit.”
I nodded in agreement. There was no denying that.
“That summer he took me to North Carolina. We drove down from Jersey and stopped at this gas station.” She glanced around, a soft smile on her lips as she craned her neck around the store while she spoke, “It was on the Virginia/North Carolina line,” she seemed to find what she was looking for and turned in that direction. “There was this big red line that went through the gas station, and if you stood with one foot on either side of it, you were in both states at the same time.”
We stopped beside the giant red line and watched young Marlena and her father. They were giggling as they hopped back and forth.
“We kept jumping side to side until he stopped me and knelt down, looking me in the eyes.”
“Put both of your feet on the line, Marlena.” her father said.
She followed his instructions, her expression unsure of what he was up to.
“Now look to your left.”
She did.
He pointed to the left side of the line. “Those people are on this side. Now look to your right.” Marlena obeyed, an embarrassed smirk on her face as she noticed some other kids her age watching them. Her father pointed to the right side of the line, “Those people are on the other side. Now look down,” he said.
Marlena looked down.
“Now look at me, Marlena.” She lifted her face and met his gaze. “You’re not either side. You’re what lies between.”
“I don’t want to be in between.”
Marlena seemed to freeze the memory before she explained, “I immediately clammed up because he was pointing out I was different and I hated that. I hated that God made me different, that He made me in a way that meant I would never fit in.” The memory resumed.
“Marlena...you are special.” A loving smile captured her father’s features as he stared at his young daughter. “Don’t you understand…out of all the people in the world, you are one of the few chosen to help.”
“How do I help?” she asked annoyed.
“Because every time you communicate with a soul for someone, you’re giving them peace. You’re showing them there is more to this life, that we all go on. That’s a beautiful thing, Marlena. You are a beautiful gift.”
Taking her by the shoulders with a firm grip, he gave her a little shake. His expression changed as he looked at her, fear laced in his features. “Don’t you ever doubt that. Not for one second. Even when it’s hard, and you’re lonely, never forget how special you are. Don’t ever give up.”
In a flash, we were back on the street in New York again, as if we hadn’t just been in some other place and time. I halted in shock. “How do you do that?” I asked, completely bewildered. “How did you make me see that?”
Marlena hadn’t stopped, and I hustled after her to catch up. As I reached her she shrugged, “When the mind is open to the possibility of something more, it is willing to see more.”
I didn’t really understand how having an open mind could make me relive her own memory, but I was in awe. It’d felt like I was really there, seeing it. Ike’s dream-like experience in the Hell House made more sense now. Shaking my head, I returned to the main topic, “Sometimes it feels like a curse.”
“Everything happens for a reason, Charlotte. I believe there are no accidents. God may allow bad things to happen, but He also sets us up for the good things.”
We were standing in front of the Hell House now, staring up at the eerie house. It wasn’t long ago I’d seen the faces of two little girls staring back from the dirt-stained windows. A familiar litany rolled through my head unbidden: Diana and Mary had crossed over. They were at peace. Why didn’t Click get to go too? Why would God let me help them, but not her?
Marlena climbed the steps to the porch, stopping in front of the door, her back to me. “Have you ever really thought about how you ended up here? How you randomly turned this way and that way and ended up here, in front of this house, where three little girls were waiting to be set free?”
I joined her on the porch. “No, I guess I hadn’t.” And, of course, now that it had been so blatantly pointed out, the odds that it had happened by pure chance were laughable. We’d been four tourists walking around an unfamiliar city, one of whom was former military with scary situational awareness—so how was it none of us realized we were going the wrong way?
“You were meant to find this place so you could help Mary and Diana.” She stepped into the house and turned to wait for me.
I appreciated her spin, but that still didn’t answer why I was able to help two girls and not Click. I braced myself for Agnus’s onslaught, and followed Marlena inside.
“Don’t fret, she can’t see you,” she explained as I glanced to the corner where Angus stood, leering at Marlena.
“Why is she not in your face?” I asked. “She never even let me enter without practically hissing venom at me.”
“I showed her where she’ll go if she crosses over,” Marlena answered plainly, eyeing Agnus. “She would rather stay here. This house is nothing compared to what awaits her.”
“Hell? You’ve seen it?”
Marlena looked at me, her stare direct and cold. “I showed her her own vision of hell. The place she fears most.”
As we climbed the staircase and made our way to Click’s room, I glanced back at Agnus. The high-and-mighty air she carried every other time I’d been here was gone, and now all that was left was a petrified creature left to suffer alone. I felt nothing for her. Remaining here in this house was more than she deserved. When Marlena and I reached Click’s room, neither of us were surprised to find her pacing, moving her fingers and repeating her favorite word.
“She hasn’t been forgotten, Char. She has a place in the afterlife.”
“Then tell me how? You’re the one who sees the future.” I was frustrated. She made it sound so simple.
Unfazed, Marlena pulled out her cell phone and tapped the screen, turning it to show me the video of Beethoven I’d played for Click before saying, “Maybe she doesn’t know how to go…someone has to take her.” I met her gaze, a heavy understanding blanketing me as she continued, “You brought yourself here, Char. Not me, remember? You’re here so you can take her back with you to the other side.”
An image played out before me of myself. I was crying, holding my head in pain.
“Why would you let this happen?” I screamed to God—to no one. “Why won’t you do something! Help me help her!” I shouted as I started down the hallway to the stairs. “Please help,” I sobbed.
The image cleared and I stared at Marlena blankly, the pieces of what she was saying finally coming together.
As if sensing my hesitation Marlena turned to face me, stepping into my line of sight. “I’ve been here for three days, and the one thing I’ve heard every one of your family and friends say, over and over, is Why? Well, love. This is why.”
“So you think all of this happened,” I motioned at my head, “solely for me to save Click?”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Marlena said as she glanced back to her phone.
The gravity of what she was saying hit me in the chest. “You’re saying God gave me an aneurysm, and put me in a coma, all so I could help Click?”
“The girl can’t go on her own. Someone has to take her. You and I aren’t really meant to be on just one side, Charlotte. For everyone else, it’s black and white, but for you and me...the people like us...we exist in the gray. You were put here, in this exact moment, for her. You’re standing on the red line.”
“What lies between,” I murmured.
“Exactly. I tried to have Ike take her, but it didn’t work because his soul is one of the black and whites, and he’s fully on the other side. But your soul is one of the grays, and at the moment you aren’t alive or dead.”
It seemed farfetched and mystical, but I couldn’t deny that it made sense. The enormity of it all hit me. None of this was a coincidence…it had been destiny.
“What is going to happen, Marlena? How does this end?”
“It ends with peace,” she said shifting to stand beside me and faced Click, her thumb hovering over the play button. She took in a deep breath and glanced at me, “Are you ready?”
I nodded and Marlena tapped play. The dramatic melody filled the room, and instantly Click rushed to Marlena, attempting to grab the phone. As she did, I saw her aura shift into a brilliant halo around her.
“Now Charlotte,” Marlena said quietly. “Grab her and take her,”
I shook my head, my heartbeat whooshing in my ears. “I don’t even know how I came here to begin with.”
“Wrap your arms around her and imagine a place you think she will like. The rest will work itself out once you’re there. This is the only scary part.”
I swallowed hard. What if it didn’t work? What if Click freaked out on me for touching her? A million possible failed scenarios played in my head, but I knew Marlena was right. In the eager eyes of this precious little girl, I saw what Marlena had been trying to tell me. This was why I was here.
I didn’t give myself any more time to think about it, I just moved. I stepped behind Click and wrapped my arms around her, lifting her off the floor. She immediately began to shriek and kick her feet. “It’s okay sweet girl,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m taking you someplace safe.” I squeezed her tighter, closed my eyes, and pictured the one place I could think of on the other side that she would love.