“Yeah. And for most of Thursday and Friday, I think. Some of it gets a little hazy.”
She shook her head slowly. “Damian, I’m not sure how to say this, but—”
“I know,” I said. “Sally’s been dead for years.”
•—•—•
Most of you already knew that, of course. Some of you probably remember when Sally’s death became national news, when men all across the Free States breathed a sigh of relief. And those who didn’t know were no doubt wondering how a Crow as infamous as Sally had just waltzed past the Academy’s defenses. Maybe you put two and two together, and got an incredibly-fucked-up-but-no-less-accurate-for-that-fact four.
But here’s the part that’s really going to fry your brain. Sally Cemetery had told me that ghosts weren’t people at all, that they were just mindless shells whose sparks of life had yet to fully fade. But Sally had been dead nineteen years, which meant Sally herself was a ghost. So how had she spoken? How had she taught me to access my power? How the fuck did anything from the past few days add up?
•—•—•
Over the next half-hour, Alexa and I talked through some of those same inconsistencies. She was hard to read, her professional mask every bit as effective as her Cape mask had been, but the questions she asked were thoughtful and detailed. Either she believed me or she was doing a spectacular job of faking it while waiting for security… and I was pretty sure the woman formerly known as Midnight didn’t need security’s help to deal with one baby Crow.
“So what do you think? Am I crazy?”
“Do you feel crazy?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “Mostly, I’m just confused. But I’m not a therapist either.”
“Despite what some of the tremendous assholes in my profession would prefer everyone think, a doctoral degree doesn’t grant omniscience,” said Alexa. “I can’t tell you whether you actually met with Sally Jenkins, or if that whole encounter was something your mind created internally to help you deal with a traumatic situation. Post-Break, such things are less cut and dried than they used to be. What I can say is that the Damian I saw two weeks ago was clearly struggling, and that is not the case today.”
“You could tell?”
Alexa’s right eyebrow crept back up. “It’s my job.”
“Did you tell Bard?”
“No. Jonathan is a gifted man and a brilliant orator, but he is not a trained psychoanalyst. He doesn’t understand that therapy is a process, with peaks and valleys, and that sometimes those valleys are where the greatest progress is made.” She shrugged. “The mind goes through struggles, just like the rest of us. Sometimes, those struggles are what make the mind even stronger.”
“And if they break it instead?”
“Then I will honor my promise to you, and ensure that no one else suffers.” For just a moment, the shadows seemed to spill from her eyes. “And then, and only then, will I inform Bard.”
CHAPTER 48
“Sally Fucking Cemetery?!? Are you serious?”
I nodded absently at Silt before turning to Vibe and pointing to the sandwich I was in the process of demolishing. “I thought the cafeteria food was good, but this…this is fantastic.”
“It’s the marinade. That and high-quality, actual beef. I told you my family’s chef is amazing.” The Empath had brought sandwiches back to school for all of us, and was eating hers one-handed, her other hand resting atop my bare arm.
“If I’d known food could taste like this, I would’ve been a lot less happy with the synth-rations back in Bakersfield.” I took another bite and let the multitude of flavors roll around in my mouth.
“I’m all for listening to the two of you talk about how much you love having meat in your mouths, but could we get back to the bomb that Skeletor just dropped?” asked Silt. “You seriously saw Sally Cemetery?”
“Yeah.”
“Sally Jenkins, pale and wary… the Sally Cemetery?”
“Yeah.” I nodded to the bench Silt was perched on. “She was sitting about three feet to your right.”
Unconsciously, Silt shifted to the left. “But she died before any of us were even born!”
“I know.” I’d decided I owed it to Vibe and Silt to tell them everything, starting with my parents, and ending with what I’d gone through over the break, but the story wasn’t any less confusing on its second telling. “It was her ghost, I think. And before you ask, I have no fucking idea what that means.”
“What did Shrink Spooky think?”
“Alexa? She’s reserving judgement. Waiting to see if this was the final push needed to send me over the edge.”
“What was Sally like?” Kayleigh wanted to know.
I chewed on my sandwich for a few moments while considering the question. “Scary. Alone. Kind of sad. Scary.”
“You said scary twice,” pointed out Silt.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Was she pretty?” pressed Vibe.
“Yes?” I frowned. “Maybe? Sort of. I’m not sure.”
“I’ll take Evasive Answers for six-hundred bucks, Alex.” Silt scowled when Vibe and I turned confused looks in her direction. “Come on… Jeopardy? Alex Trebek? Did the Free States purge all of its Pre-Break pop culture?”
“I’m not being evasive.” I shrugged. “I thought I was losing my mind. I’m still not totally sure I didn’t. Why would I care if Sally was hot?”
“Because you’re eighteen and unless you’re some sort of sex-ninja, you haven’t gotten any action since you arrived at the Academy?”
“Sofia!” Vibe’s hand tightened like a vise around my arm as she stared at the stocky Earthshaker.
“What, Kayleigh?” The look Silt sent back was pure innocence and all the less believable for it. “Men have needs, just like we do. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Sally’s a ghost,” I reminded her, “and even if she wasn’t …”
Both women leaned in as I trailed off.
“You guys know the stories. She doesn’t want to be touched.”
My words brought silence to the small clearing, and wiped the grin off of Silt’s broad face. For a while, the three of us just sat there, sandwiches in hand, as the first September
