Of the Trees(75)

Cassie let her eyes slide shut, listening as the last of the voices died away, and the last car door slammed shut. She was cold, numb.

“You’re bleeding.” The voice was soft, almost musical, and the room filled with the scent of lavender. She was perched on the windowsill, peering at Cassie. Her dark hair lifted with the breeze, her outline ringed in silver. “It was a nice vigil. I expected to see you there.”

“I wasn’t allowed,” Cassie croaked, staring up at her. The tears stopped, and her cheeks felt like they were freezing.

“Mom and Dad wouldn’t have liked that,” Laney said through a frown. She hopped into the room, sitting against the wall below the window. She stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles, tilting her head to regard Cassie.

Cassie wanted to flip the light on, wanted confirmation that what she was seeing was real. It was Laney. It looked like her. In a way. Her skin was paler, almost luminescent in the moonlight. Her eyes were sharp, darker than Cassie had ever seen them. The green had deepened, become almost black. She stared with an intensity Cassie recognized, and it caused her stomach to lurch.

“What happened to you?” Cassie whispered. Laney grinned. The moonlight cast shadows over her features and her smile set a spiral of fear twisting in Cassie’s chest.

“Exactly what they said would happen,” Laney answered. “And see? Here I am.”

“You’re different.”

“I’m better,” Laney countered. “You could be, too.”

A soft laugh, one she recognized, drifted through the open window from the lawn. Cassie stiffened.

“Who’s out there?”

“You hear them. I told them you did,” Laney said, that maniacal grin overtaking her features. Cassie shook her head. The voices, the ones that plagued her, started to whisper. Only it was different now. Instead of wind, they sounded like music, the words distinct and decipherable.

“She doesn’t hear. You only want her to,” he said with a lilt that Cassie couldn’t place. Dulcet and soft, like a spoken song.

“No,” Laney hissed. “She’s afraid, but she hears.”

“I don’t hear a thing,” Cassie said, pushing harder back against her bed. She switched tactics when Laney went to argue. “What about your parents? They’re sick with worry.”

Laney drew a deep breath, her chin lifted up and to the window. “Parents aren’t meant to have their children forever.”

“So you’ll have them go mad with grief and fear? Always searching for you?” Cassie spoke, and a hard edge of anger leaked into her voice. She couldn’t help it. The rage, the impotence she had felt since Laney walked away from her in those woods was overwhelming. At once, she wanted to smack Laney across the face and drag her to her chest to hold forever.

“There will be a body. Soon.”

The horror washed over Cassie like a cold bath. From the way the words casually fell from Laney’s mouth, she knew the body would not be her own. “Who’s?”

“I’m not sure. But it won’t be mine, not really. No matter how it looks.”

“Laney, this is insane,” Cassie whispered, getting up to her knees. “You can’t do this. Come back. Stay with me.”

Laney shook her head, regarding her friend with what looked like pity. “It’s done. I can’t, and I wouldn’t, undo it. But I did want to tell you. No matter how it looks, okay? It’s not me. I’m okay.”

“Laney, this is not okay!” Cassie said, her voice growing in volume. She could hear the laughter from below her window, feel the amusement at her words and her fear. It fueled her anger. “Jessica is still dead. They did that. You can’t—”

“Now, you just wait,” Laney said, bristling immediately. She rose to her knees as well, and Cassie faced off with her, less than a foot away. “I told you already, you don’t know what happened that night, not the full story. Jude got carried away, that’s true. Even he admits that much. But it wasn’t completely his fault. He thought Jessica could handle it, thought she saw him for what he was. He was wrong. But it’s not his fault she couldn’t see them. He didn’t know dancing would do that to her. Hell, maybe she even did have an underlying condition.”

“Oh, so it’s her fault she’s dead?” Cassie said, forcing the words out through grit teeth. “And you’re alive because what? You believe?”

The tittering underneath her window was annoying and distracting. When the face popped up over her windowsill, she didn’t even blink at it. Corey’s head tilted, the tips of his hair looking dipped in mercury.

“C’mon, love,” he said, his voice soft, lilting. “She doesn’t see, not really. She sees the old you.”

Laney frowned, studying Cassie’s face. Cassie saw her friend lean forward, thought for a moment she’d grab her in her arms, hug her, and stay. Cassie could take her downstairs, bring her home to her family. They could go to school and college, maybe get an apartment together someday. Things could be normal. But after a deep breath, a released sigh, Laney sat back on her heels, shaking her head.

“You’ll know where to find me,” Laney whispered. Then she was gone. The room empty. The voices quiet. Not even the chirp of a cricket to keep Cassie company.