Chapter 13
BY CANDLELIGHT
Kate gives us a watery smile. “Spence is already here, with Naomi and Harper. My parents are, too,” she says to Dad. “Mom’s helping with everything, so I’m sure Dad is looking for some company.”
A crowd has gathered on the snow-dusted field.
Instrumental music plays softly through the stadium speakers.
Reporters linger on the periphery, their cameras and tripods positioned along the track.
I spot Ivy’s family standing on the fifty yard line, surrounded by Pastor Tim from St. Oswald’s, Principal Dalton, our guidance counselor, Miss Cherry, and Mrs. Calloway, our school secretary.
Mrs. Winslow has grown so thin, she’s barely visible from the side.
A little girl who looks like Ivy clings to her gaunt waist while Mr. Winslow stands by stoically.
Next to them, flowers and unlit tea lights decorate a table.
In the center, two tall candles glow beside a large, framed photograph of Ivy.
Dad and I find Mr. Calloway. He wraps me in a bear hug so tight, it’s like he thinks I might slip away and drown in the river, too. He smells like motor oil, and I take comfort in the embrace. When he lets go, he points to his son.
I join my friends.
Harper hugs me as tight as Mr. Calloway, her eyes puffy and red. Naomi’s are dry, but her expression is somber. Twig is gray in the face.
“Where’s Jude?” Naomi asks.
“His grandfather is sick. He had to go visit him.”
“That’s horrible,” Harper says, blotting her eyes with a crumpled tissue.
“All of this is just so horrible. And it doesn’t even make sense.
I don’t think Ivy was drinking. I guess she could have been so scared, it disoriented her.
It was really scary, whatever that prank was at the party.
I keep asking Jake why they aren’t trying to find whoever’s responsible.
They found weird equipment at the cemetery.
Surely they can figure out who it belonged to.
I mean, it’s basically murder now, isn’t it? ”
Twig and I make brief eye contact. His face has gone a shade grayer. I can’t help but wonder what Harper would think if Twig and I were arrested for the crime, our ghost-hunting equipment found on the scene.
Kate, Harrison, and Brynn join us, followed by Griffin and Lainey, who Kate visibly avoids.
Me, on the other hand?
I can’t look away.
Humans don’t combust in the Overlay. Megan Carlisle confirmed it. So what happened to Lainey and Ivy? Where did they go when they disappeared? Why is Ivy dead? Why does Lainey have no memory of what happened? What did Rafe mean when he said Lainey isn’t Lainey?
Principal Dalton steps up to the podium.
“Welcome everyone,” he says into the microphone. “Thank you for coming tonight to remember Ivy Winslow, a student, a friend, a daughter, and a sister.” He nods respectively at Ivy’s mother, her father, and the little girl clinging to Mrs. Winslow’s waist.
He continues speaking.
I have a hard time listening.
My mind buzzes. Ivy, in the river. Lainey, alive. Rafe, in reflections. And Mistress Bramble’s strange words.
You woke a great hunger.
If I wanted to speak with her before, I’m dying to speak with her now.
But it feels like my window of opportunity has slammed shut.
I went out there again today, to Talenwah Run, for the fifth time.
The result was the same. The result will always be the same.
Fifty years from now, I’ll still be knocking on her door to no avail.
Principal Dalton introduces our guidance counselor, who says a few words, followed by Pastor Tim, who says a few more.
The choir sings a haunting rendition of Hallelujah, and when they’re done, the candle lighting begins.
Pastor Tim and Principal Dalton take the tall candles that are already lit.
They start with the tea lights on the table.
Then they take the candles to the mourners.
Pastor Tim goes to Ivy’s family. Principal Dalton takes his candle to the crowd.
Candlelight slowly spreads across the field as breath escapes in frozen clouds and stars twinkle overhead.
It reminds me of Christmas Eve, except there’s no Silent Night, no holy reverence.
Just so much grief and sadness I’m surprised a rift doesn’t tear open right here on the football field.
Twig lights my candle.
I turn to light Lainey’s.
When I do, the candlelight catches the inside of her wrist, where a strange symbol snags my attention.
A pattern of glowing dots that form the shape of a V.
I blink, sure it’s a trick of the light.
But the dots remain, glowing on her wrist as she turns to light Griffin’s candle.
I look at Twig, but he’s not looking at me and getting his attention at such a moment feels disrespectful.
All is silent but the sound of sniffling.
I can’t look away from Lainey’s wrist.
I stare fixedly until the moment of silence ends.
Miss Cherry reads a short poem Ivy wrote, making me think of my mother, who was a member of Foggy Hollow’s inaugural poetry club.
Principal Dalton informs the crowd that counseling services will be available tomorrow at school.
The wake and the funeral will be held at St. Oswald’s on Wednesday.
The high school will be closed for the day so students and staff can attend. Pastor Tim ends with a prayer.
The candles are lifted.
Ivy is remembered.
And then, they are blown out.
Everyone stays very still while Ivy’s family is escorted away. Only then does the crowd begin to disperse, a great mass shifting toward the front gate.
Except for Lainey.
She and Griffin slip away in the opposite direction. They dart across the dark, snow-dusted field. I try to get Twig’s attention, but he’s too far ahead with Kate. Harper is crying with a group of classmates, all of them theater kids.
In the distance, Lainey and Griffin slip into the equipment tunnel.
I pivot on my heel and hurry after them.
“What are you doing?”
I glance over my shoulder and spot Naomi following me. I put my finger to my lips and creep closer to the tunnel.
“Selah,” Naomi hisses.
Shushing her, I come to a stop near the entrance.
I can hear them talking inside.
“They’re probably making out,” Naomi whispers. “Which is highly inappropriate.”
I shush her again and peek around the corner.
Lainey and Griffin stand together, alone in the dark tunnel.
Lainey is giggling—laughing with Griffin—and for a moment, I think Naomi is right.
They came here to make out, which is, in fact, highly inappropriate.
But then Lainey lifts her arm in this strange way and the dots on her wrist ignite, no candlelight needed.
Griffin doesn’t seem to notice.
Lainey lets him kiss her neck.
The air crackles and hums, like it did that night in the music room during the masquerade ball, and with a juddering heart, I watch as the air splits.
Lainey has opened a rift.
With the glowing dots on her wrist.
Griffin doesn’t see it.
Naomi whispers under her breath, oblivious as well.
I need to move. Call out a warning. Yell at Griffin. But my feet are frozen—my voice, too. I can do nothing but stare in wide-eyed horror as Lainey shoves him with more strength than a girl her size should have. He tumbles through the opening and disappears.
Naomi sucks in a loud, gasping breath.
Lainey’s head snaps in our direction.
Her eyes glow like the marks on her wrist.
I clap my hand over Naomi’s mouth and drag her backward, into the shadows. My pulse pounds in my ears as I peek around the corner just in time to see Lainey follow him. I take my hand off Naomi’s mouth and step into the tunnel. But I’m too late. The rift is already closing behind her.
Naomi is hyperventilating.
Her chest rises and falls erratically as she splutters, “He disappeared. He just—disappeared. And her eyes. Her eyes were glowing. They were glowing. And now she’s—where did she go? Where did they go?”
All the while, Rafe’s words reverberate in my mind like a trapped echo.
Lainey isn’t Lainey.