Free Shine by Jeri Smith-Ready

summoner. With a click, the device started to dim.
    Ex-Tammi looked up suddenly. “You know what, I think I’m ready—” She disappeared.
    “Ready to what?” I asked the empty space, my heart pounding. “Megan, can you call her back?”
    She picked up the summoner. “Not without my dad noticing I used this. I might get in trouble as it is.”
    “But what if she passes on? What would they do with Zachary?”
    “Maybe it’d be a good thing,” Megan said. “They can’t prove Zach can see ghosts, right? No witness, no evidence.”
    “Zachary is evidence. If they put him in a room with a ghost, and the ghost freaks—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I could only imagine the DMP’s reaction: shock, then fear, and finally greed. They’d hook him up to machines for the rest of his life, trying to reproduce his power. They’d use him to make anti-ghost weapons.
    “This isn’t gonna help,” Megan said, “but won’t they test Zachary whether they have a witness or not?”
    “Probably.” I slapped the cushion where the ghost had sat. “But without Tammi, they’ll do it sooner. One day could make a huge difference.”
    “True. I’m sure MI-X’ll get him out soon.”
    I hadn’t told her Simon’s pessimistic estimate. I hadn’t told her about Simon, period. “If they don’t get him out, I will.”
    “What are you gonna do, hold up DMP headquarters like thatcrazy guy last month? They’d shoot you to death like they did him.”
    “I can’t just do nothing!” I stomped over to the piles of funeral programs and picked up two sheets. “Look at all these holes in people’s lives. I don’t want to mourn Zachary, I want to save him.”
    “I know, I know.” She dug in her bag, which was sitting on the floor. “Hey, I know this won’t help you in that department, but it might make you feel better.”
    “What is it?”
    “A new band: Frightened Rabbit.” She gave me a CD with a rough brown jacket. “They’re a little folky-indie for me, but they do say ‘fuck’ a lot.”
    “What’s this got to do with Zachary?”
    “They’re from Glasgow, so they sound like him. The accent. It’s not the same as hearing his voice, but—”
    I cut her off, throwing my arms around her. No one, not even Zachary, got me the way Megan did.
    She hugged me back. “It’s only a dumb CD.”
    But it wasn’t. It might not help me save Zachary, but it was a lifeline, a way to connect to the person I loved most through the thing I loved most: music.
    Maybe it would keep me sane long enough to save him.

Chapter Ten
     
    I woke to an aching Scottish voice and a tear-dampened pillow.
    The Frightened Rabbit CD played beside my bed, left on repeat the night before. The music wasn’t morose—in fact, it was filled with hope and humor. But the singer’s inflection, so like Zachary’s, pierced my heart. The syllables rolled from the back of his throat and over his tongue, cracking with emotion. And the way he sang the word “love” like “luv,” made me feel like Zachary was here in my room, ready to take me in his arms.
    The night had felt like one long dream, where I’d wandered in a fog, searching for Zachary, hearing his call, but never knowing which direction it came from.
    Gina knocked, then spoke through my door. “I’ll be home for lunch, hon. Then you can drive me back to the office so you can have the car for errands.” That was our bargain—she’d give me one day off aweek, and I’d use half of it to get our groceries and dry cleaning.
    I mumbled a thanks and flipped my pillow to the dry side, hoping to catch up on sleep. But I was haunted by the thought of ex-Tammi. Did she know she could hurt me, her imagined nemesis, by passing on right away? Had I accidentally given her peace by letting her vent her jealousy over Logan?
    Outside, rain pattered on the porch roof. The sound of water made me notice my throat was parched. I’d cried so much last night I’d dehydrated myself.
    I slumped down the