breaking stride. Charlotte was impressed, even in her pain.
Her pain. Something about that wasn’t right. She couldn’t feel pain anymore. And why would she have a dream in which she did? Class change was complete, halls emptied, and she began to panic. Another feeling she shouldn’t have been able to have any longer. Charlotte grabbed for her throat as panic turned to all-out fear. Not fear of the unknown any longer, but fear of what she’d just, in that instant, come to know.
She shouldn’t have been coughing. Dead girls don’t get sick. Damen had seen her. So had Petula and The Wendys. Charlotte had the bruises now to prove it. She turned her head back toward the classroom and looked through the open door.
And there it was.
The answer staring right back at her. It was . . . a gummy bear. THE gummy bear!
She didn’t choke.
She didn’t die.
Charlotte felt her arms and legs and face. She tugged at her hair and her lashes and her lips. They were warm and solid.
“I’m not dreaming. I’m not just back where it all started,” she screamed. “I’m alive. I’m alive? I’M ALIVE!”
“Anybody seen Charlotte?” Piccolo Pam asked.
“No clue,” Prue answered. “But did you ever see such a Christmas downer? She practically stomped all over Santa’s beard last night.”
“Well, she wasn’t at work, and no one has heard anything from her today.”
“That’s not like Charlotte,” Call Me Kim noted.
“Well, I heard she’s fighting with Eric,” Maddy added.
“Really?” CoCo piped up.
“I could do with a little yuletide gossip,” Violet said, surprised at her eager response to the very thing that had done her in.
“Mind your own business, Maddy,” Prue barked. “Haven’t you learned not to instigate by now?”
“Maybe she just needs some alone time,” CoCo said, hanging the last of her couture Christmas outfits. “I know I’m not quite feeling myself today either.”
“Now that you mention it, neither am I,” Prue agreed. “Last night was a late one.”
“That’s probably it.” Pam nodded. “Charlotte’s probably chilling at home.”
“Or with Eric,” Prue said. “I’m sure they’ve made up by now.”
Maddy just shook her head as if to say I don’t think so , drawing a harsh stare from Prue and the other girls.
“What are you trying to say? That she’s cheating or something?” Pam asked.
Maddy just laughed. “Rumor has it.”
“Ignore her, Pam,” Prue said.
But CoCo and Kim were already curious nonetheless.
“I think I’ll check with Eric.” Pam recalled their discussion from the night before and felt the slightest trace of suspicion cross her mind as well.
“She’s just trying to make you all paranoid,” Prue said, trying to rally the troops.
“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Maddy said.
“Wherever Charlotte is, she can’t be far,” Prue spit back.
“Yeah,” Pam said. “She wouldn’t be caught dead looking at another guy.”
3
Miracle on Hawthorne Street
Christmas Wrapping
It is often said about giving that it’s the thought that counts. Which is true. Mostly. We try our best to value the act, the intention, the effort undertaken even above the thing itself, and receive it with an appreciative grin if not a wholehearted embrace. But like many things that come packaged with a smile and in pretty paper, some gifts, once opened, can leave you wondering what the giver was really thinking, or not thinking, about you.
Charlotte wandered the halls for a good long time taking it all in. She felt like a girl with a new car driving right past her worst enemy’s house, not that she’d know, of course, but that’s what she imagined it would be like. Returning to Hawthorne as a visitor as she had before—or as a tenant, so to speak, in Scarlet’s body—was one thing, but this was something else entirely.
She was herself.
Just herself.
Only herself.
She stopped to peer into several classrooms,
Her pain. Something about that wasn’t right. She couldn’t feel pain anymore. And why would she have a dream in which she did? Class change was complete, halls emptied, and she began to panic. Another feeling she shouldn’t have been able to have any longer. Charlotte grabbed for her throat as panic turned to all-out fear. Not fear of the unknown any longer, but fear of what she’d just, in that instant, come to know.
She shouldn’t have been coughing. Dead girls don’t get sick. Damen had seen her. So had Petula and The Wendys. Charlotte had the bruises now to prove it. She turned her head back toward the classroom and looked through the open door.
And there it was.
The answer staring right back at her. It was . . . a gummy bear. THE gummy bear!
She didn’t choke.
She didn’t die.
Charlotte felt her arms and legs and face. She tugged at her hair and her lashes and her lips. They were warm and solid.
“I’m not dreaming. I’m not just back where it all started,” she screamed. “I’m alive. I’m alive? I’M ALIVE!”
“Anybody seen Charlotte?” Piccolo Pam asked.
“No clue,” Prue answered. “But did you ever see such a Christmas downer? She practically stomped all over Santa’s beard last night.”
“Well, she wasn’t at work, and no one has heard anything from her today.”
“That’s not like Charlotte,” Call Me Kim noted.
“Well, I heard she’s fighting with Eric,” Maddy added.
“Really?” CoCo piped up.
“I could do with a little yuletide gossip,” Violet said, surprised at her eager response to the very thing that had done her in.
“Mind your own business, Maddy,” Prue barked. “Haven’t you learned not to instigate by now?”
“Maybe she just needs some alone time,” CoCo said, hanging the last of her couture Christmas outfits. “I know I’m not quite feeling myself today either.”
“Now that you mention it, neither am I,” Prue agreed. “Last night was a late one.”
“That’s probably it.” Pam nodded. “Charlotte’s probably chilling at home.”
“Or with Eric,” Prue said. “I’m sure they’ve made up by now.”
Maddy just shook her head as if to say I don’t think so , drawing a harsh stare from Prue and the other girls.
“What are you trying to say? That she’s cheating or something?” Pam asked.
Maddy just laughed. “Rumor has it.”
“Ignore her, Pam,” Prue said.
But CoCo and Kim were already curious nonetheless.
“I think I’ll check with Eric.” Pam recalled their discussion from the night before and felt the slightest trace of suspicion cross her mind as well.
“She’s just trying to make you all paranoid,” Prue said, trying to rally the troops.
“Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Maddy said.
“Wherever Charlotte is, she can’t be far,” Prue spit back.
“Yeah,” Pam said. “She wouldn’t be caught dead looking at another guy.”
3
Miracle on Hawthorne Street
Christmas Wrapping
It is often said about giving that it’s the thought that counts. Which is true. Mostly. We try our best to value the act, the intention, the effort undertaken even above the thing itself, and receive it with an appreciative grin if not a wholehearted embrace. But like many things that come packaged with a smile and in pretty paper, some gifts, once opened, can leave you wondering what the giver was really thinking, or not thinking, about you.
Charlotte wandered the halls for a good long time taking it all in. She felt like a girl with a new car driving right past her worst enemy’s house, not that she’d know, of course, but that’s what she imagined it would be like. Returning to Hawthorne as a visitor as she had before—or as a tenant, so to speak, in Scarlet’s body—was one thing, but this was something else entirely.
She was herself.
Just herself.
Only herself.
She stopped to peer into several classrooms,