How to Kill a Ghost Read Free Page A

didn’t believe he could so easily change his way of speaking.
    Ian never spoke with contractions. Not once in all the time I had known him.

    I got Jake up from bed the next day, got him bathed, and made him eat something. Most of all, I concentrated on getting liquids into him.
    “I’m better, Mom,” he complained when I started to take his temperature again.
    “No, you’re not. In fact, I’m thinking about taking you to the doctor’s later.”
    “You can’t do that!”
    I narrowed my eyes at him, and he reined in his voice level. While he curled up on a chair, draped in a comforter, I changed his bed sheets.
    “It’s just a cold.”
    “We don’t know that, Jake.”
    I leaned far across the bed to get an end of the fitted sheet tucked away.
    “Can you go to a hospital, Mom? Won’t the machines break?”
    I froze, staring down at the bed, my back to him. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Ghosts. You know, they break machines when it tries to register that they’re there. I read it in a book once.”
    I couldn’t imagine what book he had read this information in, and I hated recalling that Jake remembered most of what he read if it interested him. “That’s nonsense, sweetie. There’s no such thing as…”
    “Don’t say that, Mom. You’re here.”
    I had no words, but I scrounged around my brain for an answer. When a coughing fit hit my little boy, and I turned to find his eyelids drooping, I’m ashamed to admit I felt relief. I tucked him into bed, made sure he had everything he needed, and then tiptoed out of the room.
    Weariness weighed on me even as I floated around the house, no direction, no ideas. How would I get Jake to let go of the idea that I was a ghost? By his own admission he’d been harboring these suspicions for a while, and I had confirmed them by fading out. What was I going to do?
    My front door opened, and Ian strode in. I hesitated to approach him when previously I would have tumbled into his embrace. I knew the problem wasn’t all on my end when he didn’t hold out his arms for me, and my heart ached.
    “I want you to leave Summit’s Edge,” he said.
    Those were the last words I expected to hear. “What?”
    He repeated what sounded like a command, and I frowned at him. “Jake is sick. I can’t leave him. No, I won’t leave him.”
    “Take him with you. Pack what you need and leave tonight. I will escort you to the edge of town, and after that you should be fine.” He started past me as if he expected I would head into my room to pack right away, as if I would not question his order. I stood my ground.
    “Why are you pushing me to leave all of a sudden, Ian?”
    He stopped with his back to me. I waited, but he didn’t turn around to face me. “Do not ask questions.”
    I grabbed his arm and tugged. If Ian didn’t want to look me in the eyes, no amount of pulling on him would get him to turn. He took his time pivoting on his heel. His expression was as closed as it always was. No, he appeared even colder, so distant I resisted a shiver. “We have been more than acquaintances or even friends. You’ve been acting funny, and I want an explanation!”
    He watched me in silence.
    I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not budging until you say something, and you can’t make me.” That last part sounded a tad childish, but I pushed the thought from my mind. I could be stubborn when I wanted to be.
    “You know we cannot be together. Just leave.”
    I gasped. Hurt tingled to the roots of my hair. A few minutes passed before I could pull myself together enough to respond. “So, that kiss was good-bye?”
    Fire seemed to crackle in his eyes. “What. Kiss?” Each word was a sentence of its own, threat permeating the sounds, but not toward me.
    My patience had come to an end, however, and I refused to explain every detail of how he had made me feel both earlier and now. If he didn’t care, why should I? “In your house.”
    “When?”
    “Stop these games, Ian.