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“He’s definitely full of something,” Faith said under her breath. “But why are you here, haunting alibrary?”
“She worked here,” Foster answered.
“Did she die here?” Faith asked.
He shook his head. “No. She died at the hospital.”
“But I’m sure this place was a safe haven for her,” Hudson added. “With her ASD, the library probably made more sense to her than anywhere else on earth.”
“Do you think Keene knows she’s here?” Faith asked.
Hudson and Foster glanced at each other before they shook their heads simultaneously. “No way does he know,” Foster said.
“He’s going to flip the fuck out when he hears this, though,” Hudson warned.
“Will you see my sunshine soon?” Robin asked, disappearing down a row of shelves briefly before returning with a book.
“What the fuck?” Hudson cried, jerking a step back and nearly tripping over his crutches when they fell to the floor.
Foster lurched to his feet and skidded backward away from the table. “The book is floating,” he chanted in horror. “The book is fucking floating.”
“It’s not floating,” I corrected. “Robin’s carrying it.”
As Faith told Hudson basically the same thing, Robin went on to explain, “He was looking for this the last time he was here. Up on the second floor. But it was down here, in the basement, and he never comes down here.”
“Why didn’t you give it to him yourself?” Faith asked. “Why did you never try to contact him at all?”
Robin tilted her head in an eerie, robotic way and blinked as if she couldn’t comprehend the question. Then, she said, “I do not know if he is frightened by ghosts. The last thing I would do is scare my sunshine. I am satisfied with simply watching. There was no reason to contact him.”
“But you’d be okay ifwetold him about you?” Faith asked.
“Only if it does not cause him harm,” Robin answered simply. She set the book on the table. “You will give this to him?”
“Uh, sure,” Faith told her, stepping cautiously forward to slide the book off the table and gather it into her arms. “We’ll make sure Keene gets it, no problem.”
As Hudson peered around Faith’s arm to check out the book’s title, I turned to Robin. “How did you do that? How did you pick that book up?”
“Books are the only things I can touch,” Robin answered.
I shifted eagerly closer. “Do you thinkIcould touch something?” I instantly tried to touch Foster’s book bag, but my hand went right through it.
My shoulders slumped.
“An entity must have a deep, personal connection with an object before possessing the ability to touch it,” Robin answered, making Faith glance over at her in confusion.
Addressing Foster, Faith pointed toward Robin. “Did your girl just ask?—?”
He nodded. “She wants to know ifshe’sable to touch and pick things up like that as well, yes.”
“Well?” Faith wondered with lifted eyebrows. “Can she?”
I squinted at a traveling guide on the shelf and crept up on it slowly as if the book might bolt if I startled it. And then, at the last second, I tried to snatch it from the shelf quickly. Only for my fingers to go right through the spine.
“Dammit!”
Foster heaved out a depressed breathforme. “Not yet,” he reported to his friends.
“She said I needed to have a deep, personal connection with something before I could touch it.”
