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Tears filled her mom’s eyes. “I want to believe that, Della, but we have to be realistic.”
Realistic? Della stared at the pain in her mom’s eyes. The realization kicked Della in the stomach. No, right in the heart. “Oh, God, you think…” Emotion filled her throat. “You think he did it. You think Daddy killed his sister? How could you believe that? You know him better than that.”
“I don’t think…” Her mom swallowed hard. “It’s just the evidence—”
“I don’t give a shit about the evidence. Dad didn’t do this.”
“I believe that.” Her mom wiped a few tears from her lashes. “But honey, he doesn’t remember what happened. He was knocked unconscious. He can’t even testify to his innocence.”
The room’s temperature instantly started falling. Falling fast. Only one thing could make a room go that cold, that quick. They had company. The dead kind.
He was not unconscious!
The words rang in Della’s head—for her ears only. She let her gaze shift up. There, in front of the window, midair, hung the ghost of her aunt. She wore the bloody gown again. It flowed back and forth as if some unfelt breeze stirred it. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she looked angrier than she was sad. She hadn’t shown herself since Della left Shadow Falls.
Let my mother talk, Della said in her head.
It was the first time her mom had said anything about her dad’s account. Her dad would never talk to Della about it, so this was as close as she could get to hearing it from him.
“Tell me what happened, Mom.” The more Della knew, the better her chances of helping, but would her mother tell her?
Her mom rubbed her hands up her arms, fighting the cold. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” Della said. “I deserve to know.”
“Honey, your father—”
“I’m part of this family. It’s hurting all of us. We can’t keep secrets.”
A tear slipped from her mom’s lashes. “That’s just it, I don’t know anything.” The cold caused steam to rise from her lips. Della hoped her mother couldn’t see it. “The only thing he’s told me is that he woke up when the paramedics were there. His sister was … dead. He said there was blood everywhere. To this day he has nightmares about it. He got so upset that his parents sent him to a psychologist and they committed him for a while at St. Mary’s.”
“The mental institution?” Della asked.
Her mom nodded.
“Sharron,” her dad called out her mom’s name.
Her mom’s gaze filled with guilt. She wiped her tears away. “Yes, hon. I’m in here.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. He stopped in the doorway. His gaze went to Della and—as he always did when he saw her—he flinched. Maybe not physically, but mentally. He’d blink and his pupils would change sizes. What was it about her that caused him so much pain?
“You’re home.” Disappointment echoed in his tone. His eyes shifted to her mom. “I thought she went out.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.
“I came back. You were in the study so I didn’t bother you.” Della hoped she sounded normal, but it was hard when the ghost stood there, blood dripping from her white gown, staring at Della’s dad with murder in her eyes.
“Why is it so cold up here?” he asked. “Have you been playing with the thermostat?”
“No, sir,” Della said.
He walked out. Della sat there, holding the hurt inside while freezing on the outside. Glancing back at the ghost, Della prayed that it didn’t start snowing. The ghost had done that once before.
Her mom watched her dad leave. She stared at the empty doorway for a second before she turned back to Della. Relief and more guilt filled her mom’s eyes. She squeezed Della’s hand, as if in some kind of unspoken apology. Thankfully, it was so cold that the chill in her mom’s hands matched Della’s body temperature.
Then her mom dropped Della’s hand and stood up. She was almost out the door when she looked back. “I just want you to be happy, baby.”
With the sound of her mom’s footsteps treading down the stairs, Della glanced back at the angry ghost, who stood shaking her head.
Lies. It’s all lies. He remembers. He remembers everything!
