Poor Esmer.
“Do you need some pain meds?” Charlie twisted around in his chair. “I can ask Anthony—” But, for once, the doctor wasn’t hovering at my brother’s elbow or standing in the living room, pretending to give us privacy. This was one of those rare moments when we were actually alone.
“Or I can look in the medicine cabinet myself,” Charlie said after a pause, his forehead crinkling. “That’s weird. I wonder where he is.”
“Hopefully, he’s taking my advice and spending time with his family for once.” I waved away my brother’s concern. “I’m fine; don’t worry. How’s Esmer?”
“In pretty rough shape, but she was lucid enough to laugh at one of my lame jokes.” He ran a hand down his face. “Lucid enough to ask how I knew where she was.”
“We have to tell her the truth, Charles.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Don’t sound so depressed,” I said with a laugh. “The last person we told didn’t run away, screaming their head off in terror.”
Charlie’s jaw tightened.
It took me a second too long to remember that there had been another person to learn the truth since we’d told Anthony.
I sighed. “Esmer isn’t like Penny. She’s stronger.”
My brother made a noncommittal sound as he slouched back into his chair and averted his gaze.
“You were already going to tell her. Maybe not tomorrow or in the next few weeks, but you were getting there,” I said before he could object. “She’s the first person you’ve gotten close to since, what? Freshman year of high school? It was bound to happen. Her being touched by Death gives you the perfect opening.”
Charlie, still wrestling with old hurts, gave the lame excuse of, “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
I spread my hands out before me. “How about: Once upon a time…?”
He rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a fairytale we’re living, Jazz.”
“Isn’t it?” I let my hands drop over the comforter. “We’re like a version of Hansel and Gretel where the witch wins.”
“There’s a reason nobody wrote that story.” Charlie racked a hand through his hair. “It’s not a story anyone would want to read.”
I saw fear and dread in the lines cutting across his face. He never talked about Penny, never mentioned the period in his life when he’d ventured out of his comfort zone and had tried to make friends. But the fallout had left a painful wound, one that obviously wasn’t fully healed. Now here I was, picking at it. I knew this could blow up in his face. I also knew it had the potential to become something great. There was only one way to find out how it was going to end up. Maybe I was meddling. Maybe I was being too overbearing, forcing my brother into something he wasn’t ready for. But, dammit, someone had to give him a push otherwise he’d never move!
“Maybe I should go with you,” I said, perking up.
A sigh. “No, Jazz.”
“I can help you tell the story when you get all choked up. Yeah, I should definitely go with you.”
“And what if someone in the ICU dies?” my brother snapped, aiming all his fear and anxiety at me. Like I knew he would. “What if you die right in front of Esmer? A nurse or a doctor or a freakin’ janitor could walk by at the wrong time and see you. The media will be all over us again. No. I have to do this alone.”
I grinned. Who said reverse psychology never worked?
“What?” he muttered, suddenly uneasy.
“I’m just so proud of you, little brother,” I cooed, reaching out to pat him on the head.
He ducked away. “You’re two minutes older than I am. It doesn’t count.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” I glanced at the digital clock sitting behind Buffy the Tuff Owl. “When are you going to see her again?”
“Tomorrow. Maybe.” He ran his fingers over the back of his neck as if working out a knot. “Doctors said the more she rests, the faster she’ll recover so I’ve stayed away. To let her rest.”
“That and you’re buying yourself more time,” I added. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll still think you’re hot and mysterious after you spill your guts about our curse.”
Charlie scrunched his face at me before standing.
Chapter 16
Esmeralda
Aunt Dinah was there the next time I woke up. She had my phone and earbuds with her. “Here,” she said stiffly. “I thought you would want this.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, closing my fingers around my favorite thing in the whole world. Finally!
“I don’t have to tell you not to contact your friends back in Boston, correct?”
I resisted the urge to scoff. It would probably hurt. “No, ma’am.”
The old woman nodded. “Rest. I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Wait,” I said before she could leave. “Did you tell my mom?”
“I thought I’d leave it up to you. Do you want me to tell her?”
I shook my head.
“Very well.” She put on her raincoat and walked out of the room.
I put my earbuds in, scrolled through my music selection, and hit play when I found what I wanted to listen to. Coldplay began to sing. I fell asleep to the lyrics of Yellow.
◆◆◆
Charlie wasn’t there the second and third times I woke up. A bunch of nurses were. And a few doctors. They talked a lot. It was kind of annoying, but they were saying good things so I couldn’t complain too much. Then a detective came by to see me. He was a tall guy with blond hair and a scruffy beard and mustache combo. He dressed casually, in jeans and a flannel shirt, but he flashed a badge and spoke with authority.
“Hello, Esmeralda. My name is Detective Victor Campbell. I work with the Seattle Police Department at the North Precinct. I believe you know my nephew, Charles.”
I leaned to the side, hoping to see
