Free 0758269498 by Eve Marie Mont

the night the doorway between the living and the dead was at its widest and the spirit world could commune with the living. If you had lost a loved one, you were supposed to set a place for them at the dinner table in their honor. I regretted that my father and I had never enacted this simple ritual for my mom.
    A low peal of thunder rumbled overhead. I shivered as the leaves swarmed around my feet, seeming possessed. When I reached the Commons Building, parents and students were congregating outside the doors of the auditorium, talking and browsing through their playbills. Feeling conspicuous on my own, I entered the auditorium and found a seat.
    Lights flickered momentarily, and everyone converged into the room. As soon as the house went dark and the curtains parted, I allowed myself to be transported, losing myself in Arthur Miller’s ingenious dialogue and the strong performances. Michelle ceased being Michelle, transforming into the villainous Abigail, a girl so desperate for John Proctor’s love that she sticks a large needle into her belly and claims that John Proctor’s wife, Elizabeth, sent her spirit out to stab her. When officials come to arrest Elizabeth for witchery, she denies the charge, but the constable finds a poppet with a needle in its belly and accuses Elizabeth of using it as a voodoo doll.
    I watched with tears in my eyes as John Proctor clung to his wife, who nobly walked toward her doom. Flynn’s haunting score punctuated the final scene, in which the innocent victims walk the scaffold and three nooses descend from the ceiling. Then the music halted abruptly as the theater went black.
    A few seconds of silence ensued before the audience erupted into applause. After the lights rose and the actors took their bows, I scooped up the bouquets of flowers and jostled my way to the stage. When Michelle and Owen finally emerged from backstage, along with Elise and the others, it seemed that some magical transformation had taken place. Michelle and Elise were smiling at each other, Owen was rubbing Elise’s shoulders and telling her what a great job she’d done, and Gallagher was beaming and congratulating the entire cast and crew. They were surrounded by a field of energy I had no part of.
    I slunk up to Michelle, hoping to avoid Elise. “Emma, you’re alive!” she said when she saw me. “My hermit roommate has come to celebrate with us!”
    “Hey,” I said, handing her the flowers. “Congratulations! You were wonderful.”
    “Aw, thanks, Em. That was sweet.”
    Elise glared at me from a few feet away, and I wished I could teleport myself back to my room. I felt so raw and vulnerable, and Elise was the last thing I needed.
    Or maybe the second to last, because Flynn Markham suddenly appeared beside me and passed me a flask. “Here,” he said, handing it over. “I think you need this more than I do. I heard about the big breakup.”
    Great. Everyone knew I’d been dumped. “No thanks,” I said, falling under the scrutiny of his steely eyes. He’d lined them in a deep violet color tonight, so they looked fierce and alien, almost reptilian. He shrugged his shoulders and took a swig from his flask.
    “Where’s Owen?” I asked.
    “Over there. In that sea of girls.”
    I glanced over and saw that Owen was, indeed, surrounded by a circle of girls, most of them still in their Puritan “witch” costumes. I muttered a halfhearted thanks to Flynn, then maneuvered my way through the bodies to get to Owen, handing him his bouquet.
    “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, giving me one of his patented hugs. He leaned into my neck and whispered, “I’m so sorry about Gray.” I wanted to melt into his arms and cry. When he pulled away, he said, “We’re having a cast party in the gardens out back. You’re totally staying.”
    “But I’m not part of the cast.”
    “So what? You’re my honorary guest. Flynn’s DJing, and Gallagher ordered a ton of pizzas.”
    “I don’t know