Free Soul Storm by Kate Harrison

who died. Including my sister.’
    ‘A memorial site?’
    ‘Not exactly. It’s . . . another world, I suppose. At first I saw nothing except the place itself. It’s called Soul Beach. It’s beautiful. A tropical beach, pale sand,
deep turquoise sea. It was so realistic, Lewis. I really felt like I was there, walking by the shore. Feeling the sunshine on my skin.
    ‘And then I started hearing voices.’ I pull a face. ‘I know how that sounds. Really, it was one voice, actually. My sister’s, calling my name.’
    Lewis says nothing. I’d have no idea what to say if I were in his shoes.
    ‘I wouldn’t have believed me either, if I hadn’t experienced it. I
didn’t
believe it, at first – thought my grief was making me see things that
weren’t there. Or even that someone was playing the cruellest trick I could imagine.
    ‘But then I saw her, Lewis.
Meggie.
And the others. Other teenagers who’d died before their time, with something left to be done or said or fixed. Like . . . remember the
girl whose brother we visited?’
    ‘Triti?’
    I nod. ‘She was on the Beach. It’s how I knew about her. I was obsessed with her story. Not for the reasons I gave you, but because she was suffering.’
    Lewis gulps. ‘I never did believe that you just read about her online. But
this
? You’re saying you met her somehow? That she told you about the bullies who hounded her to
her death?’
    ‘I knew her, yes. And she told me enough to know something had to be done to make things right.’
    ‘And your sister? What has
she
said?’ Lewis can’t stop the hardness creeping into his voice. ‘Has she told you who killed her?’
    ‘She doesn’t know. She never saw the person or, if she did, she doesn’t remember. Lots of them forget, perhaps as a way of protecting themselves.’
    ‘You’re sure she’s not just protecting you?’
    ‘Hmm. She genuinely doesn’t know. But now Tim’s there too, and he wouldn’t be if he’d been guilty because then the murder would have been resolved
and—’
    ‘Hang on? You’re saying Tim’s
beach-combing
too?’
    I stare at the table, wanting to scream with frustration. ‘Lewis, don’t mock me. Why do you think I haven’t told you before? Because I wouldn’t believe me, either. But
there is evidence there, if you listen.’
    ‘Like Triti?’
    ‘Triti, yes. And I made a difference in Barcelona, too. You can look it up. There was a boy called Javier. He fell off a roof to his death. I can give you dates, details, his address. I
couldn’t have known any of that without the Beach.’
    ‘Made a difference, how?’
    ‘I helped him get away. The Beach is kind of an online limbo, I suppose. When something changes here, in real life, then the Guests are finally set free. It happened with Gretchen, too.
The German girl with the hacker dad? She disappeared from the Beach.’
    ‘Where to?’
    I shake my head. ‘No one knows, any more than the living know where they go after death. But—’
    ‘Summer chicken, and sea bass fillet.’
    I’m almost relieved when the waiter brings our main courses, because it forces me to stop for a moment, to let my words sink in with Lewis. My dish is beautiful to look at: the chicken in
a white porcelain pot, with fresh green herbs floating in a garlicky broth. It smells amazing but I won’t be able to eat any of it. I can hardly even swallow as I wait for Lewis to speak.
    He barely glances at his own plate. ‘I honestly don’t know what to say.’
    Which is his way of saying he thinks I’ve lost it.
    ‘I could have made up something, you know. Something credible. But I couldn’t bear to lie to you. Was that a mistake?’
    Lewis picks up his knife and fork, but then puts them down again. I’ve silenced him.
    ‘I can’t take much more of this,’ I say, and I push my plate away. More people are watching us now.
Look at that girl, doesn’t know how to behave in a good
restaurant. Is he dumping her or is she dumping him?
    ‘Ali .