Free When They Fade by Jeyn Roberts Page B

she’s supposed to go.”
    “It’ll happen,” Mary says. “It always does. The living are too stupid to listen to warnings. Especially from a bloody ghost. I mean, come on, would you have believed it if some pale creature appeared to you and gave you a warning? No. You would have sauntered along, oblivious, like the rest of us.”
    “I don’t know,” I say, but I know she’s right.
    “It’ll happen. And I wish I could be there, in all my finest ghostly getup, all cut and torn the way the bastard left me. No offense, chicky, you’re too pretty a lass to scare anyone. But me? I’m the queen of gore. At least my killer had the decency to go after me alone. Of course, he was still mental. God-fearing bunch? I’ll give them something to fear.”
    I don’t say anything. I don’t see the point. Instead I glance out at the water and wait for Parker to return.

TATUM
    “I’m going to be late coming home.”
    Tatum sits at the table while Mom spoons scrambled eggs onto a plate. That’s the number one rule of the household: everyone has breakfast. No exceptions. Mom’s a dietitian. She spends her days at the hospital, teaching people the benefits of following healthy guidelines and making sure everyone eats the right amount of each food group. Because of this, the kitchen cupboards are filled with all sorts of crap. There’s not a potato chip or piece of bacon to be found. And Mom is constantly going off on rants about the proper way to eat. Tatum has officially heard “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day” more than any other teenager in the world.
    “Why’s that?” The toaster pops up, and Mom grabs the slices of sunflower bread, shoving them onto the plate before passing it over.
    Tatum takes the salt, ignoring Mom’s frown, and heavily flavors the eggs. Her mother might be good at making everyone eat, but she’s never been the best at cooking. “I’ve got a paper due. Thought I’d get some work done on it today. Going to head into Seattle and hit the library.”
    “Into the city? Tonight? Why don’t you go to the library here…” The words get stuck in her throat.
    Mrs. Paracini’s sister runs the local library. The last time Tatum tried going there, the afternoon Tuesday book club, a group of middle-aged women, spent the entire time glaring at Tatum and talking loudly among themselves. And if someone tries to convince you that small-town people are always polite and friendly, they should spend a few days in Hannah. It ended with Tatum going home in tears, and the next day Mom got into a fight with a gossipy nurse while getting gas at the Shell.
    Hannah is a town that Tatum no longer has any privileges in. No matter where she goes, people stop and stare. Then they talk.
Discreet
isn’t a word in their dictionaries. Even Mom, with her “Ignore it and it’ll all go away attitude,” has grown weary of hang-up calls in the dead of night. What’s worse are the emails suggesting Tatum be “hospitalized.” She’s become the town Lolita, the harlot, the girl everyone wants to see fail.
    “Okay,” Mom says. “But be home by seven. And keep your phone on.”
    “In the library?”
    “There’s no law against silent mode.”
    * * *
    Tatum’s day is blissfully uneventful. Sure, there are the whispers, the laughter, more red lipstick on her locker—but that’s nothing she can’t handle. She’s learned to deal with all of that stuff like a pro.
    Lunch is spent in an empty classroom, once everyone has already headed to the cafeteria. Experience has taught her that unless she eats with her back to the wall, she’s an open target for all sorts of food-related attacks. These days she’s better off finding a quiet corner somewhere and eating alone with a book.
    Hiding isn’t what Tatum does best. She’s always enjoyed being surrounded by groups of friends. She’d much rather spend her weekends at parties and socializing than sitting at home pretending to study. In the past few