CHAPTER ONE
Darkness enveloped Jenna, not the ordinary darkness of closed eyes, but a profound absence of light that seemed to have substance.
She knew this feeling well—the strange weightlessness, the heightened awareness that signaled she was no longer in the realm of ordinary dreams. Lucidity crystallized in her mind; she was conscious within the dream, able to observe and interact with whatever her psychic gift had summoned her to witness.
Then, a pinprick of light appeared in the distance, growing steadily brighter as it approached.
The flame of a single candle pushed back the darkness, illuminating slender fingers that cupped protectively around the wavering light.
The hand belonged to a woman, her face still obscured in shadows beyond the candle’s glow.
Something in the way she moved—cautious, searching—suggested both fear and determination.
“Hello?” Jenna called out, her voice sounding oddly muffled in the dreamscape. “Who are you?”
The woman startled, nearly extinguishing the candle. She steadied the flame, then lifted it higher, casting light on her face without fully revealing it. Middle-aged, Jenna guessed, with worry lines around eyes that darted nervously from side to side.
“Can you see me?” the woman asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Jenna took a careful step forward. Experience had taught her that these lucid dream encounters were fragile; push too hard and the connection might break. “I can see you,” she confirmed. “I’m Jenna Graves. Why have you come to me?”
“I need help.” Her gaze flickered past Jenna, scanning the darkness. “I need to find out who did this to me.”
“Did what?” Jenna asked, taking another step closer. “What happened to you?”
But the woman’s attention had shifted. Her head tilted, listening to something Jenna couldn’t hear. Then from somewhere in the darkness came the high-pitched yapping of a small dog.
“Biscuit?” the woman called, frowning with concern. “What is it, boy? What’s the matter?”
The barking intensified, growing more frantic.
“I need to know who you are,” Jenna pressed, sensing the woman’s attention slipping away. “Tell me your name. Tell me how I can help you.”
The woman opened her mouth as if to respond, but a sudden gust of cold air caused her candle to flicker wildly. Then her form began to fade, as if the darkness was reclaiming her.
“Wait!” Jenna called out, reaching toward the dimming light.
The woman’s final words were barely audible: “Find who did this... before they—“
Then she was gone, leaving Jenna alone in the darkness once more. But not for long.
A familiar warmth filled the space where the woman had stood, and the quality of the darkness changed, becoming softer, almost comforting. A figure materialized, his edges blurring and reforming as if he wasn’t quite able to maintain a solid presence.
“Dad?” Jenna whispered, her heart constricting with a familiar ache.
Greg Graves stood before her, looking as he had before the illness took him—strong, steady, with that reassuring smile that had always made her feel safe. But now, his expression was quite solemn, his eyes reflecting a concern that transcended even death.
“Jenna Marie,” he said, using her middle name as he always had when the matter was serious. “I don’t have much time. It’s Piper. She’s gone again.”
“What do you mean, gone? She’s at Mom’s house. She’s safe.” The words sounded hollow even as she spoke them, doubt already creeping in.
“I’ve been watching over both my girls, and your mother, too—even from beyond. But Piper... I can’t see her anymore. Something’s pulled her away, hidden her from me.”
“No,” Jenna shook her head, denial rising like a tide. “We just got her back. After twenty years, we finally found her. She wouldn’t just leave again.”
Jenna turned all around, eyes straining to see through the gloom.
The ground beneath her feet began to dissolve, the dreamscape collapsing around her.
Her father’s voice reached her one last time, faint but unmistakable: “We’ve got to find her, Jenna Marie.
Before something terrible happens to her. I’ll keep looking too.”
Jenna’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking upright in bed. Sweat dampened her nightshirt, and her heart hammered as if she’d been running. Morning light filtered through the curtains of her bedroom, the ordinary surroundings a stark contrast to the otherworldly experience still vivid in her mind.
She pressed shaking hands to her face, trying to sort through what she’d witnessed.
The woman with the candle had felt distinctly real—a genuine presence reaching out from beyond.
Jenna had encountered enough spirits in h not just a figment of her subconscious, but er dreams to recognize the difference.
This woman needed help, was searching for someone, for justice perhaps.
Jenna knew that the woman who had appealed for help was already dead—for only the dead appeared to her in these lucid dreams.
But the visit from her father … could he be right about Piper …
The jarring trill of her cell phone cut through Jenna's daze. She flinched, the dream images still so vivid that reality felt like an intrusion. She fumbled across the nightstand to find the vibrating device. One glance at the screen sent a fresh wave of apprehension through her—Mom. Never one for such early morning calls, especially since she’d begun working to stay sober. Something was wrong.
“Mom?” Jenna answered, her voice rough with sleep and concern.
“Jenna!” Her mother’s voice cracked on the single word.
“What’s happened?” she asked, already swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
“It’s Piper.” The words came out in a rush. “She’s gone, Jenna. I got up to make coffee, and I thought I’d check on her, and her room was empty.”
The chill that had gripped Jenna upon waking intensified.
“Mom, slow down,” she tried to keep her own voice steady. “When did you last see her?”
"Last night, before she went to bed. You were still here, too."
Jenna had remembered her visit to Mom and Piper last night.
Mom had said that Piper seemed “off,” and Jenna had felt the same way.
But she hadn’t expected anything like this.
Jenna stood, phone pressed to her ear, and began pulling clothes from her dresser with her free hand.
“Is anything missing? Her clothes, her bag?”
“Yes... yes. That small backpack she keeps by her bed is gone. And some clothes from her drawer. Oh God, Jenna.” Her mother’s composure finally broke, a sob escaping. “Why would she leave?”
Jenna winced at the raw pain in her mother’s voice.
After twenty years of not knowing if Piper was alive or dead, they’d finally found her, brought her home.
For the past few months, they’d been rebuilding their family, piece by fragile piece.
Piper’s mental health issues were complex—voices that sometimes spoke to her, guided her, tormented her—but she’d been working with Dr. White, taking medication, finding her way back to stability.
“Try to stay calm, Mom,” Jenna said. “We’ll find her.”
She ended the call and immediately dialed the number of her friend and mentor, Frank Doyle. Trentville’s former sheriff picked up on the second ring, his voice alert despite the early hour.
“Sheriff? What’s got you calling at the crack of dawn?”
“Frank,” she said, relief washing through her at the sound of his steady voice. “It’s Piper. She’s gone missing from Mom’s house overnight. I need you to meet me there.”
A brief pause, then: “When you say missing—“
“Left on her own, looks like. Took some clothes, a backpack.”
“Any idea where she might be headed?” Frank asked, and Jenna could hear movement on his end as he got up.
“No, but...” She paused, considering how much to share. Frank knew about her ability, had believed in it when few others would have. “I had a dream last night. My father was in it. He warned me that Piper was gone, that he couldn’t see her anymore.”
Frank didn’t question it, didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be at your mother’s house in fifteen. We’ll figure this out, Jenna.”
“Thanks, Frank,” she said, grateful not just for his help but for his unwavering acceptance of her unusual gift.
As she ended the call, Jenna grabbed her jacket and car keys.
Another image from her dream surfaced—the desperate woman with the candle, searching for her attacker.
Could the two mysteries be connected? But Piper had to come first. Twenty years of separation had taught Jenna the importance of family.
A few minutes later, Jenna’s patrol car crunched to a halt on the driveway of her childhood home. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the familiar lawn, illuminating the garden beds her mother had so carefully restored during her journey toward sobriety.
Frank’s truck was already parked at the curb, its aged frame as reliable and steady as the man himself.
Jenna stepped out of her car, dread settling in her stomach like a cold stone.
Twenty years ago, she’d lost her sister from this very house.
The possibility of history repeating itself was almost too much to bear.
Frank was waiting on the porch, his tall frame silhouetted against the morning light.
His weathered face bore lines of concern, but his eyes held the steady reassurance that had guided Jenna through countless crises.
He wore jeans and a flannel shirt, hastily thrown on but still lending him an air of competence.
“You got here fast,” Jenna said, climbing the familiar steps.
“Didn’t want you facing this alone. Your mother’s pretty shaken up.”
Jenna steeled herself before opening the door and leading the way to the kitchen. Her mother sat at the kitchen table; hands wrapped around a mug that appeared untouched. When she looked up at Jenna, her eyes were red-rimmed and hollow.
“After everything we’ve been through to find her, to bring her home, to help her get well—why would she leave? Why now?”
The question was unanswerable. Jenna exchanged a glance with Frank, who stood quietly by the doorway.
Jenna gave her mother a hug, then turned, professional instincts kicking in. “I’m going to check her room.”
She climbed the stairs, each step familiar yet feeling strange under these circumstances.
Piper’s childhood room—preserved all those years and now finally occupied again—was at the end of the hall.
The door stood open, revealing a space that was tidy, although the bed was unmade.
It appeared that Piper had woken up during the night and simply decided to leave.
Then Jenna scanned the room. As Mom had said, a few things were missing: the small backpack was gone, along with—Jenna checked the drawer—several changes of clothes.
But the bottle of medication prescribed by Dr. White still sat on the nightstand, nearly full.
Jenna picked it up, checking the label. These were the pills that Piper had been taking to help control the disembodied voices she heard, to keep her anchored in reality. If she’d left without them...
She couldn’t have gotten very far, Jenna tried to reassure herself.
Unless …
A terrible possibility occurred to her. She turned and hurried back downstairs, past her startled mother and Frank.
“Jenna, what is it?” Frank called after her, but she was already moving through the kitchen toward the door that led to the garage.
The space inside was dimly lit by a single window coated with dust. Since Margaret Graves hadn't kept a car in recent years, lawn equipment filled the open area while holiday decorations and other accumulated household items lined the walls.
In a back corner, leaning against one wall, was an empty space where something had been—something approximately the size and shape of a bicycle.
“She’s taken her bicycle,” she told Frank as he appeared in the doorway behind her.
Frank stepped into the garage, his eyes tracing the empty space where the bicycle had been. “Then God knows how far away she might have gotten by now. But why? Why did she go?”
“Something—or someone—lured her away,” Jenna said. “The Piper who came back to us wouldn’t just leave. Not without saying goodbye, not without her medication.”
The certainty that had been building since she’d awakened crystallized into resolve. Jenna would find her sister again, no matter what dark force had taken her away.
What about the woman with the candle—the spirit that seemed to be reaching out for justice? She had no identity for her yet, no purpose. That would have to wait.
Jenna stepped out of the garage into the morning sunlight. Twenty years ago, she’d been a powerless teenager when Piper vanished. Now she was Sheriff Graves, with resources, experience, and her own abilities that reached beyond the veil between worlds.
This time would be different. This time, Jenna was going to bring her sister home right away.