Free Eternal by Debra Glass Page B

I had.
    “Yes, Wren, is it?” Waylon asked pointedly. Somehow or other, he’d already scarfed down half his mound of fish sticks.
    I searched their gazes. Both seemed genuinely interested and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell them my house might be haunted when Frank rolled his brown eyes.
    “There are no such things as ghosts,” he said adamantly.
    “You’re just too scientific.” Holly shoved a playful elbow into his ribs.
    Frank skirted the jab. “There is no empirical data proving the existence of ghosts.”
    “You should see the pictures my dad took at the Shiloh living history last year. There are orbs all around the Bloody Pond,” Waylon defended.
    Frank’s expression remained unchanged as he picked at what looked like a pita sandwich he’d brought from home. “Raindrops or dust. Not ghosts.”
    “You can think what you want but there are faces in some of them,” Waylon said before he loaded several tartar sauce drenched fries into his mouth. He chewed and then swallowed. “I’ll bring them and show you.”
    Again, Frank’s position remained unmovable. “The human eye is trained to look for the faces of animals and other humans. It’s a survival instinct that dates back to the origin of man.”
    I nibbled on a baby carrot, wondering how Frank would explain having a dead person sit on the side of his bed to have a conversation with him.
    “That reminds me,” Waylon said, turning fully to face me with his body. “When I come to your house, do you mind if I bring my camera? I’d like to see if I can get some orb shots.”
    How could I tell him no? “I wouldn’t mind at all.” I hoped my expression matched my words. What would happen if Jeremiah appeared in the photos? The whole school would know about him and I’d be bombarded with questions.
    Briar wouldn’t be the only one calling me ghost chick if that happened.
    Frank blew out a sigh and then, as if my thoughts had just traveled through the ether, he said, “Waylon, you’re starting to sound like Briar.”
    “Briar?” My interest was piqued.
    “She thinks she’s a big ghost hunter. You should see her Facebook page,” Holly said blandly.
    I picked at my salad, hoping fervently that the Internet guys would come sooner than next week. My answer to Briar’s cryptic threat might lie in the telling information on Facebook.
     

Five

    No such luck.
    The Internet guys still hadn’t come.
    Until doing without the net, I hadn’t realized how much I relied on my link to the outside world. Of course, I still had my cell phone but I really didn’t know Laura or the other new friends I’d made well enough to text yet. Besides, Briar’s Facebook page had been set to private.
    No networks existed anywhere near my house and if I did happen to text anybody, I had to hold my phone near one of the chimneys to get the message to send. I would have asked Mom to take me to the library, but she was too busy to drive me and neither of us was ready for me to get behind the wheel again yet. I’d only tried to drive once since the accident and before I’d gotten the key in the ignition, I’d had a panic attack.
    None of it really mattered right now.
    I was home.
    Inhaling, I approached the house with the excitement of reuniting with Jeremiah.
    Mom greeted us, looking ridiculously small standing next to the towering front door. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and when she pushed the door open, I smelled the welcoming fragrance of peanut butter cookies. Despite the fact that we’d been uprooted, I knew baking was an attempt at pretending our lives hadn’t been turned upside down and that she wanted to make this feel like home.
    Cookies were definitely a good start.
    “Yay! Cookies!” Ella exclaimed, flying toward the kitchen.
    Mom’s smile faded. “How was school?” Her gaze attempted to penetrate mine.
    “Fine,” I said nonchalantly.
    “Is your friend still coming tomorrow?” she asked. Her eyebrow arched and I didn’t have the