Free Arise by Tara Hudson

grown, only Jeremiah chose to stay in Oklahoma; both of his sisters had returned to Louisiana, settling down to raise families in or near the French Quarter, where many of their relatives still lived.
    Watching the Angeline and Mayhew descendants flock together on the sidewalk tonight, the only names I could remember were those in Ruth’s direct line: Aunt Patricia and her daughters, twenty-year-old Annabel and ten-year-old Celeste; Aunt Penelope and her nineteen-year-old son, Drew. Who I couldn’t pick out of this crowd if someone paid me to anyway.
    But there was one conspicuous absence on the curb tonight: Ruth. Not that I was complaining.
    “Josh,” Trish called across the crowd. “Most of the kids are in the drawing room. Why don’t you go say hey before you put your stuff up? I think Annabel’s got something planned for you all.”
    “What is it this time?” he asked. “Movie night? Ritual sacrifice?”
    Trish chuckled, letting go of Jeremiah to extend another hug to Rebecca. “She’s saving that last one for Christmas morning, actually.”
    When Joshua laughed loudly, she gave him one final smile before turning away to talk to his parents. Joshua waited until everyone’s attention was otherwise occupied and then looked fully at me. He tilted his head toward the open front door and mouthed, Inside ?
    I felt a sudden twang of nerves. But I nodded and held out my arm, pointing to the town house.
    “Lead the way.”
    With a last, fiery brush of his fingers against the back of my hand, he walked past me toward the front door. I took a deep breath, told myself that not every Mayhew house held a nasty surprise for me, and then followed him.
    Normal , I reminded myself. These are your last moments to feel normal. So take advantage .
    But as I passed by the gas lamps at the entrance of the town house, their flames sputtered, plunging the nearby sidewalk into darkness. From behind me a chorus of voices cried out in protest. After that I could swear I heard a rush of whispers from somewhere close—maybe from Joshua’s family … maybe not.
    I stopped, one foot on the cobblestones and one foot hovering in the doorstep. Then, unthinkingly, I let that foot drop onto the welcome mat inside the house. The moment I did, I heard two soft pops, and the gas lamps brightened again.
    I gritted my teeth and shook my head, hard. That doesn’t mean anything. Those lamps are probably a century old — I’m sure they go out all the time .
    “Amelia?” Joshua whispered from inside the house. “You coming in?”
    “Yes,” I whispered back, like I was one who needed to worry about my volume. Then I laughed softly.
    You know , I told myself, for a ghost, you get spooked way too easily . So I straightened my back and stepped fully across the threshold.
    There, in the tiny foyer, the light was almost as dim as it had been outside. The only illumination came from an electric-lit pendant hung above a winding staircase down the hall and from the rooms leading off of the foyer. Through the archway to our right, I could see a tiny dining table, still half covered with the remains of tonight’s meal. To our left, a set of young voices filtered through the opening between two French doors.
    Joshua angled his head toward the doors. “Sounds like Annabel and Drew are in there. Want to ‘meet’ the rest of my family?”
    I blew out one sharp breath and said, “Okay. Sure.”
    He paused for a second to study my face. Then his expression softened. “You know I’m really glad you’re here, don’t you?”
    The little ache in my heart uncurled itself ever so slightly, and I had to clench one hand to my side to keep from pressing it to my chest. “Thanks,” I said, managing a smile. “Me too.”
    He gave me that boyish grin, all dimples and full lips and inevitable heartbreak, and then pulled open one door. I heard a girl cry out a greeting, so I ducked behind him, feeling oddly shy as we entered the room together.
    Once inside,