Page 105 of Disturbing the Dead
I don’t answer. I just start walking. There’s a scrape and a clatter, as if someone is picking up something that fell. Then a voice. The low murmur of a voice that sends prickles through me.
Gray’s voice.
I keep walking as if in a trance. My fingers close on the doorknob to one of the guest rooms. The same room I’d woken in six months ago. Under my fingers, the knob feels smooth and modern, but when I look down, it’s antique brass, with a key in the hole.
I push open the door. The room inside is dim. No lamps or candles. Just a single window, the light outside fading. White specks hit the glass and slide down.
“Snowing,” I whisper. “It’s snowing.”
I walk in, entranced by that snow. I get three steps, and a deep sigh has me spinning. My hand flies to my mouth, and I stagger back. The bed is there. The bed where I’d woken… and I’m in it. Catriona is in it, with sheets pulled up to her neck. She’s pale and lying flat on her back. Under the sheet, her hands are visibly folded on her stomach, as if she’s laid out for a funeral. Only the shallow rise and fall of her chest says she’s alive.
Beside her Gray is just sitting there, in the gloom, watching her. Watching me.
I can tell myself I’m seeing a scene from last May. I know I’m not. Gray checked in on Catriona, but he wouldn’t have sat with her like this. And there wasn’t snow.
Gray shifts, pulling in his long legs and running a hand through his hair.
“Duncan,” I say, because I can’t help myself.
I say his name again as I step toward him, and his head jerks up. He peers in my direction, as if he heard something, but his gaze doesn’t focus on me.
My mom rests her hand on my arm, making me jump. “What do you see?” she whispers.
“Me. Catriona. Well, me. In bed. It’s snowing out, and it’s getting dark already, and Duncan is sitting beside the bed.”
“So Mum was right,” she says with a sigh. “As usual.”
I glance over.
Dad has moved into the room, too, and he’s looking around. When I focus on them, I see what they do—just a regular guest room. As soon as I look away, though, the other room returns.
“You’re seeing through the veil,” Dad murmurs. “Just like your nan dreamed. That was the key. Get you in the same place you are over there.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I can’t form thoughts. I just stare at Gray. I thought I’d lost him forever, and now he’s right there. Except he’s not right there. A hundred and fifty years stretch between us, an impassable gulf.
“You said there was a floorboard loose in your room,” Mom says.
I startle at the change in subject. “What?”
“You mentioned a loose floorboard. You should put letters in there, and we can rent this place to look for them. But still do the classified ads, of course.”
I stare at her. She’s calm. Too calm, as if she’s sending me off to summer camp and reminding me to email and send postcards.
“I… I can’t just…” I look back at Gray.
“Oh, I think you can, Mallory.” She kisses my cheek. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to.” She straightens. “Now, where is your room and that floorboard?”
“I’ll show—”
Her hand on my arm stops me. “You aren’t going anywhere, just to be sure. Tell me where to find the board.”
I do, and Dad murmurs he’ll be right back. Moments later, he returns with a smile that looks a little forced.
“They haven’t done much up there,” he says. “It’s an overflow bedroom. They’ve refinished the floors, but that board is still loose. Almost as if it was meant to be loose.”
“All right then,” Mom says, straightening. “Time to see if this works.”
“What?” I say. “I can’t just… It’s not like walking through a door.”
