Free Ghost Boy of Mackenzie House by Patti Larsen Page B

wanted to talk to the boy, now more than ever. She reached out and shut off the lamp before retreating under her covers with the picture of her parents and her flashlight, recharged with fresh bat teries.
    She knew he came when she talked to her mom and dad. But she also wanted to talk to him. So, she decided to include him in her conversation and see what happened.
    â€œWe had an amazing storm today,” she said to Sophie and Patrick. “Didn’t we?” She felt silly talking to the boy, not knowing his name. “It was cool. The sky got so dark and it rained really hard. The thunder was right over the house.” The thought of the rain made her think of the accident. “Was there lightning?” she asked her father. “I know it was raining.” She hesitated, then went on, speaking to the boy alone. “I was home sick,” she spoke above a whisper. “They went out for dinner. I felt rotten. I wanted my mom.” Her heart was beating too fast. “When she called to check on me… ” Chloe drifted off. She had begged her mom to come home. The babysitter was a stupid teenager who didn’t know how to make her feel better.
    â€œMom said they were coming back early.” Chloe felt the tears and the heat in her throat and chest. “I never told anybody.” The light wavered in front of her as her eyes filled. “It was my fault,” she said. “If I hadn’t… if they had stayed at the restaurant like they were supposed to… ” The tractor-trailer had skidded on the highway to avoid another accident, jackknifing into her parents’ SUV. She had looked up jackknife because no one would tell her what that meant. The photos of trucks bent in half made her shudder. “They would be alive,” she admitted out loud for the first time since they had died. “It was all my fault.”
    She heard the sigh and felt him sit. For a moment, she stayed where she was, not wanting to face him even though he was a ghost. She didn’t want to face herself now that she had said it.
    At last, she pulled the covers down. The boy was looking at her, the same soft white glow around him. He had short brown hair and dark eyes, though it was almost impossible to tell what colour they were. He didn’t seem to have much colour about him at all. She had been right about the suspenders, though, and the buttoned-up white shirt. When she looked back to his face, his expression was so sad it broke her heart. Still, the fear rose up again and she pulled herself away from him, back pressed to the wall, knees drawn up. He reached out to her, as though moving in slow motion. Chloe’s hands went to her mouth, fear drowning her sadness. He dropped his hand and bowed his head. Then, he vanished.
    Chloe regretted it.
    â€œDon’t go!” she called out in a rough whisper. “Come back!”
    It was no use. He was gone.
    â€œFine,” she said, climbing out of bed. “I’m sorry. I want you to come back. But if you won’t come to me, I’m coming to you.”
    Determined, Chloe took the flashlight and tiptoed out of her room in pursuit of the ghost boy.

Chapter Fifteen
    The second floor hall was empty and very quiet. Chloe made her way with as little noise as possible past Aunt Larry’s door to the staircase. She paused to make sure her aunt was still sleeping. The last thing she needed was to have her find Chloe wandering around the house with no explanation why. Aunt Larry was snoring away, however, so Chloe went on.
    She didn’t use her flashlight until she was downstairs. She hurried to the old part of the house and paused at the bottom of the staircase.
    â€œI’m coming up,” she whispered. “Please be there. But don’t scare me, okay?” Trusting her message had reached the ghost boy, Chloe climbed to the little room.
    Once there, she flashed her light around. It was empty.
    â€œI’m