Sighing to myself, I walk past the staircase and turn left, heading to my bedroom to drop off my backpack.
Just as I reach the door, I hear a voice call out, “Autumn? Is that you?”
I set my backpack on the floor inside the doorway and lean out into the hallway. “Dad?”
“Hey, sweetie. I thought I heard you,” Dad says, walking down the hallway from where I just came. “How have things been?”
“Thank god, you’re home,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “I was beginning to worry.”
“Why? Is everything okay?” he asks, his light eyes clouding with worry. For the first time, I notice just how tired he looks. Wherever he’s been has certainly taken a toll on him. There are deep bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept well in a while.
“I’m—uh, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” I say, stepping toward him.
He takes a step back, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Just a little jet-lagged. I have to adjust back to our time.”
“Where have you been? I mean, one day you were here, then you were gone for weeks. James said you were called away, but he didn’t know much else,” I say, tilting my head to the side.
“Yeah, that happens sometimes. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I’m not really allowed to…” he says, his gaze falling to the ground.
I chuckle softly. “Why? Do you work for the CIA or something?”
Dad’s eyes widen, but he takes a step back and laughs. “Definitely something. What are you up to now? Did you want to catch up a bit?” He nods back toward the entryway.
“Actually, I’d love to. Let me just put all of my school stuff away quick.”
“All right. Meet you in the sitting room. I love the light this time of day,” he says, grinning.
“Sounds good. I’ll be right there.” I nod.
Walking into my bedroom, I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at the blacked-out screen. Despite my hesitation, I tap on the screen, unlock the phone, and type Wade a quick message.
Dad’s home. We’ll be in the sitting room up front, so ring the doorbell when you’re here.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I walk out of my bedroom. When I reach the sitting room, Dad’s sitting on one of the couches, staring out at the front yard. From the large picture window, the most prominent feature is the large oak tree just outside. Near the ground, though, is a garden full of shrubbery, with flowers that have clearly passed their prime as fall approaches.
“I love this time of the year,” Dad grins, still staring out the window.
“I do, too. Fall’s my favorite.” I sit down on the love seat opposite him. Watching him for a moment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing okay. Something about him just seems a bit forlorn, but I’m not sure if we have the kind of relationship where I could call him on it.
“Dad,” I say, looking down at my hands. “Could I ask you something?”
His gaze drifts over to me. “What is it?”
I watch him for a moment, weighing what it is I really want to ask him. After a moment of internal debate, I say, “Has Abigail ever lashed out before?”
His eyebrows furrow and his expression softens. “How do you mean?”
“Like, has she ever broken a room full of lightbulbs…” I say, letting my voice drift off. “Or tried to hurt anyone?”
Surprise flashes through his eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Well, no…not that I can think of. But, then again, she’s never interacted with me much. I’ve never been able to truly communicate with her before.”
I nod absently. “That’s right, you can’t see her. But you sense her, right? Has she ever attacked you?”
Dad’s eyes narrow as he thinks. “Now that you mention it, there have been a few times where I felt constrained by a presence. Almost as if I was being bound or tied down. It usually happens right before I wake up, though, so I’ve always attributed it to a sleep paralysis. But, perhaps that was her?”
“Hmmm…” I say, biting my lower lip. “Do you think there are any other entities in this house? Anything that could want to do harm?”
“Has something happened?” Dad asks, standing up and taking a seat beside me.
I nod. “Well, yeah, actually. When you were gone, a friend of mine was attacked. He couldn’t breathe. It was like someone, or something, was choking him. And the lights in your study—they all blew out at the same time. It felt very hostile, but I couldn’t see anyone. So, I can’t be one hundred percent that it was Abigail, you know? But after being here for a year, I sorta feel like I’ve grown to know her…”
“Have you tried asking her?” Dad asks, narrowing his gaze.
“Sort of. She’s been really hard to reach lately. I’m not sure why.”
“Hmmm…that does seem a bit fishy then, doesn’t it? What are your instincts telling you?” he says, nodding and rubbing at his chin.
“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m only starting to understand my gifts. My exposure to ghosts has been pretty limited. It’s all so new still, to be honest.”
“Well, keep an eye on it. If it happens again, let me know,” he says, reaching out and patting my leg.
I shiver from the coolness of his touch, but smile. It’s not often he’s shown any signs of affection. The movement actually reminds me of how Mom used to do the same thing when she was trying to console me.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings, startling us both. Dad pulls his hand back with a start.
“Who’s that?” he blurts out with a hint of annoyance.
I rise from the love seat and smile. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s just my friend. The one who was attacked, actually. Wade—”
Dad bolts upright, his face flushing with an irate sense of fury. “Send him away. I don’t want him here.”
Chapter
