Free Afterlife by Merrie Destefano Page A

resurrection.
    â€œChaz?” she spoke before anyone else, her velvet voice like a siren calling men to crash on the rocks. “Chaz, I’m so glad I found you.”
    One of the guards grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.
    I tried to focus on what was happening, but at the same time I knew something was wrong.
    â€œShe claims to know you, boss,” another guard said. He laughed. “Says you two were kids together.”
    She leaned toward me, lifted her head, pointed a delicate chin in my direction. Dark eyes caught and held my attention. “Chaz,” she whispered, her words so soft they forced me to come closer. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m Sadie.”
    â€œSadie?” I shook my head. “No, that’s not possible.”
    â€œIsn’t it?” she asked. A tear formed, then cascaded down her cheek, reflecting moonlight like a jewel. “You remember when I went missing, don’t you? The cell, our cell, we were right in the middle of studying for our Algebra finals. You and I worked together that night. You explained it all to me. But then I left your house and I never saw you or my family again.”
    My heart thudded, a flame of guilt burned in my gut. I was the last person who had seen her. I’d always blamed myself for her disappearance. I’d had a crush on her and wanted to spend time alone with her, but maybe if we hadn’t studied so long—
    She lifted a hand to my face. “But it wasn’t your fault. I know. I’ve played that night over and over in my mind for years. One of my bodyguards betrayed me, he sold me to a—to a slave trader.” She paused, and looked out into the black night sky. It seemed as if she was watching a play and reciting the actions of the performers, like the pain of everything had gone so deep inside that she was numb. “At thirteen years old I became both daughter and wife. My first child was born when I was fourteen.” Her voice became a flat monotone, a ribbon of silk with no ripples. “They let me keep my daughter for two months before she was sold. After that I lost count of the number of husbands and children that I had, of how many different homes I lived in, sometimes in chains, sometimes with as much freedom as I have now. Then finally I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I bribed someone to help me and I jumped.”
    At that point the guard released his grip on her and she slid into my arms. She pressed her head against my chest. She didn’t look like Sadie or sound like her, but nobody looked the same after resurrection.
    And yet, as much as I believed her, something still lodged itself in the center of my spine, a premonition borne without reason. Like a shadowy gray incantation recited in a wooded glen, doubt whispered something in my heart, over and over, nudging me. But I couldn’t understand the words. Couldn’t hear them.
    â€œI’m glad you’re safe,” I said, breathing in the fragrance of her dark hair.
    She lifted her face, looked up at me, eyes filled with starlight. The essence of innocence reborn.
    â€œHow many memories did you keep?” I asked.
    â€œAs many as I could.”
    I touched her chin. “Do you remember that time we snuck away from our math tutor?”
    She nodded, a half smile on her lips.
    I bent down, cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. It was long and sensuous, nothing like the kiss of a teenager, nothing like any kiss in recent history. I pulled away with great reluctance.
    â€œI remember,” she said only loud enough for me to hear. “You were just a boy, but I will never forget that kiss.”
    I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.
    Already the alarms were ringing in my head.
    â€œI was a year younger than Sadie,” I told her. “We were friends, but never more than that. Who are you and why are you here?”
    Then I could finally see through it, the deception