Chapter 15 #2
Lupe gasps. “Oh, chingado—are you on drugs? Because you know what happened when Abuela found out Mateo got—”
“No! No drugs.”
“It could be,” I interject. “Blame it on your pills or early-onset Alzheimer’s. Even aliens, but stop this while you still can.”
“It’s too late,” he says, sidestepping around me.
I follow, blocking his view again. “I’m not kidding about the haunting for eternity. Think of the mini-Rafaels. Do you want me around forever?”
There’s a shift in his demeanor—another part of Rafael I don’t have time to examine—and his lips press together. Hope sparks. Maybe I’m getting through. Maybe he can see how completely absurd it would be to bring his cousin into all this.
“What is it, Raffi?” Lupe’s voice coaxes. “You can tell me.”
I glance over my shoulder. She’s so close … predatory.
“Don’t do it,” I warn again, holding my breath. His gaze drops to my face, lingers on each inch of my skin. I fight the warmth heating my cheeks and shake my head no.
“The thing is … I don’t know how I can see her.
I don’t know if she’s a spirit or something else, but it started a couple days ago.
I thought I was hallucinating, but now I …
I’m not sure. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but she’s here.
Right in front of me.” He sighs deeply. “And she needs my help.”
“You will need help when I’m done with you.
The kind that requires years of exorcisms,” I hiss, a rush of fury replacing the heat, making me want to dig my fingers into his hair and give him a shake.
His eyes are far from fearful, like he’s up to the challenge.
Which only makes it worse—because he’s clearly determined to bring Lupe into it.
And yes, I’m tethered to the one guy I trust least, but looping in his cousin?
That feels like a kind of surrender. Like I’m accepting I’m helpless on my own.
Lupe clears her throat, drawing our attention. “That’s …”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Rafael continues.
“Crazy is that night we ate shrooms and slept in Pepo’s doghouse, but this is next-level shit.
” Lupe whistles low, then curses in Spanish.
“I’m a spiritual person, Raffi. You know I believe in the spirit world, but—” She stills, hand going to her mouth.
“Hang on. If she’s a ghost, does that mean she’s dead? ” Her features soften. “Raffi, I’m—”
“No,” he says. “She’s not dead. Nothing’s changed since the last time. Nothing but her being here, right now.” His thumb points in my direction. She follows the movement to where I’m glowering. Her gaze is two feet to my left. “And I need to figure out how to get her back into her body.”
Lupe’s features contort from puzzled to concerned to curious. “Right there?”
Rafael nods. “She’s not too thrilled about me sharing this, but I think we’re past that point.
” Yep, and we’ve moved directly to my breaking point.
“Like I said, it’s crazy, and we’re trying to figure it out.
Why she’s here … and how we can get her back into her body before …
” His tone dips. My throat closes up. “It’s why I went to see Abuela and why I want to know about that medium. We have to figure this out. Soon.”
“And your extended family is going to help how?” I snap.
“I’m sorry.” His attention turns to me, pleading. “But she might think of something I can’t. One Vela is good, but two—that’s basically a superpower.”
“A superpower would be listening.”
“Says the kettle?”
I narrow my eyes in fury. “I listen. To people who are reasonable and sane.”
“You know you look like a crazy person talking to yourself like that?” Lupe eyes her cousin the way you’d watch someone streaking through church.
“Thank you!” I mutter. “He is crazy.”
Rafael draws in a deep, impatient breath.
“I’m not talking to myself. I’m talking to her.
” He gestures toward me. Lupe doesn’t look convinced.
He mumbles, scanning the room, and then his gaze snags on the paper bag from his grandmother’s house.
His eyes light up. “Okay! If you don’t believe me, then let’s try something.
He points to the bag. “Open the bag, take the item on top, and show it to Evie. I’ll turn around.
She’ll tell me what it is. I tell you. Easy proof. ”
“No,” Lupe and I answer in unison.
“Por favor,” he tacks on, his eyes pleading. I haven’t once—not since that one time—fallen for this Vela trick. “For me.”
I snort. As if.
While I’m stalwart in my decision, Lupe hesitates, her face creasing with indecision. She pushes out a big breath before she says, “All right, primo. I’m doing this because I love you.” She twirls her pointer finger. “Turn around before I change my mind.”
Shoulders relaxing, Rafael catches my gaze as he pivots his body toward me. The plea remains. I cross my arms over my chest to communicate that I will not, for any reason whatsoever, do this.
It’s bad enough Rafael has witnessed some of my deepest, most personal parts—my birthmark, my severe amaxophobia, my poorly timed syncope. He’s seen too much already. She doesn’t need to be a part of it too.
Muttering to herself, Lupe takes the bag and opens it. “Hmmm.” She pulls out a small box wrapped in pink construction paper. “How do I know you don’t already know what’s in here?”
Rafael sighs. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know how Elena is with her secret drawings.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Lupe unwraps the box.
“I’m not doing this,” I assure him, needing to get far, far away from Rafael Vela.
And how far is that?
I’m only going to end up where I started, because whatever—or whoever—made the executive decisions thought it would be fun to have me wake up on Rafael’s sofa each morning. Wherever you are, Great-Aunt Julia, it wouldn’t kill you to help me out a little.
“Evie,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Rafael.” I make sure my tone communicates I’m not allowing another Vela in on my misery.
His jaw clenches in frustration, but I don’t waver.
Across from us, Lupe unwraps the box. Removes the lid. And pulls out a pink sheet of construction paper folded in four.
“Please.” Rafael’s soft tone kicks me in the chest—or whatever is swirling around inside there, undoing years of conditioning against him. Because somehow—impossibly—I find myself listening. Considering his request. And I hate it. “Would it be so bad to have her on our side?”
I glare at him, masking the chaos bubbling up inside. She’s a Vela, and I don’t need her. She can’t even see me.
But … if I’m being rational and reasonable, he’s right. Having someone else help might speed things along; maybe she’ll think of things we haven’t. Also, she doesn’t make me feel like I’m glitching in the same way Rafael does.
It could work—as much as I hate to admit it.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for potential smugness. “Fine. I’ll bite, but this is it—the last Vela that comes into the mix.”
He doesn’t smirk or give me reason to think I’ve made a mistake. “She’s not a Ve—” he starts.
“Rafael.” I narrow my eyes in warning before turning my attention to the paper in Lupe’s hands. As I squint the drawing into focus, my breath catches. “It’s daisies. A field of them. And a … dog?” I frown, trying to make sense of the shapes.
Rafael repeats my words.
Lupe puts a hand to her forehead. “Híjole.”
Lupe forbids us to leave.
She plants herself at a table—one beer for her, one for Rafael—and commands Rafael to sit. “Start talking,” she says. “All of it.”
Rafael throws a glance my way.
I hang back near the bar, arms crossed, equal parts impatient and curious, trying to ignore the pulsing that’s started at the base of my head. Mostly, I hope we were right about bringing Lupe into this. Because right now? She’s slowing us down.
Rafael starts with the condensed version: the coma, the hospital, the shortened timeline, me waking up in his apartment. Nothing about The Conditions?.
“So—you’re the only one who can see her?” Lupe asks.
“Seems like it.”
“Unfortunately.”
We speak in unison. She only hears one of us. Rafael throws me a look. I smile sweetly.
“And what’s the game plan? How are you guys fixing her?” Lupe scans the room as if to pinpoint my location. She looks over Rafael’s shoulder. I’m standing behind her.
“We haven’t gotten into the weeds—” Which is funny, because that is not Rafael’s strong suit. “But … we have a name.” I groan. “Operation Ghostbuster.”
Lupe beams. “Love that!”
“We’re not calling it that,” I say, rubbing my temples. A dull thump, thump, thump agrees.
“E’s not a fan,” he says, cradling the beer bottle, “but I think it’ll grow on her.”
“It won’t,” I deadpan.
Rafael smirks. “You underestimate my abilities.”
I look up at the ceiling. Anyone? Rafael’s answering chuckle makes me wonder if he deserves a lifetime of Evie Pope trailing him.
“What did you try so far?” Lupe asks, placing her phone on the table.
“Abuela, for now, but we have some other ideas.” Rafael finds my eyes. “The medium.”
“Solid start, primo. But we need to think bigger.” Lupe swipes across her phone.
“Like … that psychic who predicted the Cubs win? She owes me a reading.” She continues typing, pausing to look at Rafael.
“And you remember when I dogsat for Gracie?” He nods.
“Met a Reiki healer–slash–dog groomer. Haven’t used them yet, but maybe we can get them to come to the hospital. That’s what we need.”
Rafael looks the way I feel—skeptical. “Lupe—”
Lupe’s undeterred. “Chakra cleanses, moon water, salt circles, séances—and there’s something called a water rebirth.”
Rafael blinks. “A what?”
“It’s when you dunk her body in water and hope her spirit gets the hint.”
“Lovely. I probably need a good bath,” I mumble.
Rafael’s lips quirk. “Maybe that’s plan B.”
“Or Z,” I add.
“There’s this other lady on TikTok who reads past lives through teeth. Maybe there’s—”
“An exorcism?” If we’re going for crazy, then let’s go.
“No,” Rafael interrupts. He looks to Lupe—to me. “I think that we start with the sane options before we dive headfirst into the drownings and demons.”
Is Rafael the practical one? My temples thump, thump to their own beat.
“I’m scheduling them all,” Lupe says. “But we can start with the obvious ones.”
Rafael downs the rest of his beer. “We’re going to sort this out.” He looks pointedly at me. “Whoever—whatever—it takes,” he says, like he’s making a promise. His voice low and sure. My breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze. It feels slightly more difficult to breathe. Maybe this is it?
Lupe follows Rafael’s line of sight. “This will never not be weird.”
“Tell me about it,” I say to myself, trying to keep my face from showing how I feel.
“You have no clue,” Rafael says. His phone buzzes on the table, catching his attention. He stiffens, then stands abruptly. “I have to take this.”
The jarring shift in his demeanor throws me. Even Lupe looks surprised.
“It can’t wait?” Lupe shouts after Rafael. He ignores her.
“Is that your sponsor for Tacos and Tequila Tuesdays?” I ask dryly as he passes me. He stumbles midstep, likely surprised I remember his ridiculous YouTube idea.
“Funny, E.” Rafael disappears down the hallway. “Hey …”
I don’t catch anything else as he answers his mystery call, but my curiosity tugs at me like a leash.
“Evie?” Lupe’s voice startles me.
I turn to her. She’s looking to my left—trying to find me. On instinct, I move closer.
“I need to say something before he comes back.” Internal alarms go off.
I brace myself. For what? I have no clue, but the sudden change in her tone sends a pang of panic through me.
“Raffi’s like the big brother I never had.
Helped me get my life together after I screwed it up with partying and bad people—even while dealing with his own shit.
Made sure I’d never have a reason to go back.
” Her gaze is distant, pensive. I didn’t know.
“Going through that makes me protective of him, so don’t take this the wrong way, but I have mixed feelings about Raffi helping you.
” The words hit like a wrecking ball, harder than I expect.
What does that mean?
I wish I could ask.
“I’m helping him because I’d do anything for him,” Lupe continues.
“But honestly, he’s told me a lot about you.
” I try not to cringe, thinking of the not-so-fun things that could have made the list. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this.
He’d probably kill me actually, but hell, it’s about time you knew.
Probably not a better time than now”—I brace myself—“but he is—”
“Wary of leaving his cousin on her own,” Rafael interrupts. I yip, turning on him.
“What? I was just going to say that you told me Evie plans free time,” Lupe says, her tone changing back to fun and light. Shrugging, she downs a swig of her beer. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
I gape at Rafael, who’s glaring at his cousin. A silent exchange passes, and I’m convinced it might have nothing to do with scheduling free time and everything to do with some secret.
Rafael must feel my eyes burning into the side of his stupidly handsome face, because he turns to me. “Sorry?”
“What’s wrong with time management, Raffy Taffy?” I ask, scanning his face for more. What did Lupe want to say? A secret that’s making them both wage a staring war? And that call he left for?
He’s definitely hiding something. Secrets.
“It’s late,” Rafael says, stretching like that settles it. “And we have a medium to see in the morning.”
Translation: Subject closed. But my gut says otherwise—because all I can think is secrets, secrets, secrets.
And the worst part? I was starting to think I could trust him.