Chapter 25
The circle broke immediately, both literally and figuratively. It no longer seemed to hold any power once Annabelle disappeared. The three of us let go of each other’s hands and stared at the center where she’d been, dumbfounded.
“What the hell just happened?” Seymour Anderson was still standing in the doorway, clutching his briefcase. No one answered him.
Yasmin fell to her knees, feeling the circle with her hands. “Where did she go? Did it fail? I can’t believe we failed.”
“But something happened,” said Miranda. She looked around the sitting room as if Annabelle was simply hiding behind the television set.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” Seymour demanded from the hallway. Sage was watching the adults helplessly while Adam and Tyler conducted a search for the missing ghost. They ran from the alcove to the kitchen and back, shouting her name.
Nate stepped up, ushering Seymour out of the house with a firm grip on his arm. I felt an intense rush of gratitude for the dorky electrician’s apprentice and the kids, even though I somehow knew they wouldn’t find Annabelle.
I stood in the center of the circle where Annabelle had disappeared, trying to sense her, but I couldn’t. She was gone.
Yasmin stared at her hands, still smeared with blood. “I don’t understand. Everything went to plan. She should be restored. Exactly how she would be if she hadn’t—”
I didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of her sentence. I ran out of the house, rushing past Seymour and Nate.
“Gibson!” Sage followed, sprinting after me.
My ankle throbbed and my hip ached but I ran as fast as I could up the lane that led to the road that connected Abaddon with the rest of the island.
I knew exactly where Annabelle was.
***
Low voltage lights lined the pathway to the house. Red-tinged rays of sunset lingered, competing with deepening shadows. Sage caught up to me halfway down the lane to Mike’s. “Gibson, where are you going?” they shouted.
I was breathing too hard to form words. All I could do was wheeze, “Annabelle.”
In front of Mike’s, two of the largest horses I had ever seen were hooked up to an old-fashioned open-air carriage. The whole thing was white, including the seats and even the spokes of the gigantic wheels. There was a Just Married sign with gold lettering attached to the back of the carriage.
Mike approached from the side of the house as Sage and I ran down the lane. He was wearing an old-fashioned top hat and a black suit, complete with a black bowtie.
“Please,” I said, putting my hands on my knees and pulling air into my lungs. It felt like knives digging into my chest every time I took a breath, though I wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or fear. “I have to get her.”
“Whoa, slow down.” Mike held out a hand to steady me as I straightened. To Sage, he said, “What’s going on?”
Words haphazardly spilled out of Sage. “We did a ritual to try to bring Annabelle back, you know, the ghost from the other night, and I think maybe it worked, but maybe it didn’t, and—”
“Annabelle came back and I know exactly where she is, but it’ll take me too long to get across the island to her.
Please, Mike.” I pleaded, not caring if I sounded pathetic.
All I knew was that I needed to get to Annabelle’s cove and that in my current state, if I walked, it would be too late. “I need your help.”
Mike shared a look with Sage, clearly trying to decide if I was nuts. While we talked, the motion sensor light on Mike’s garage activating, adding a beam of white to the diffuse light of dusk.
“Please, Dad,” they said. “I’ll take Joan, and Gibson can ride with me. We need to go get her.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But—”
Mike held up a hand and looked at me. “You are not riding one of my horses again until you’ve done at least a week of riding classes.”
I took a breath, ready to beg, but he gestured to the carriage. “I just finished a sunset wedding ride, and Britney and Eddie are still hooked up, so we might as well take them.”
Sage jumped in the carriage gracefully and held out a hand to help me up. “Thanks, Dad!”
Unexpectedly, I flung my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Mike.”
He smiled, then shook his head. “Life sure has been exciting since you arrived.” He took my arm and helped me into the carriage. “Let’s go get your ghost.”
***
The sun descended slowly while we rode across the island.
I simultaneously wished we could hurry and was afraid of Mike losing control if we did.
I knew that wouldn’t happen with Mike in charge, but couldn’t help remembering the sense of falling.
Leaning out the side of the carriage and squinting, I told Mike to slow down as we approached.
I hopped out as soon as I could see the mile marker near Annabelle’s cove.
My ankle protested, but I limped as fast as I could toward the familiar bend in the path.
Behind me, Mike was saying soothing words to guide the horses to a stop.
Sage had followed behind us on their bike, and the bike’s tires skidded on the dirt as they caught up.
Scrambling onto the rocks where I’d seen Annabelle disappear twice, I shouted, “Marley! Are you here?”
Sage followed me onto the rocks. “You think she’s out there?”
I nodded, not tearing my eyes away from the choppy water. The wind was gusting, making white foam appear on the surface as waves formed. I had no idea that a lake could have such intense waves.
“She’s out here,” I said, scanning the water desperately. The horizon was marked by lines of purple and red above the dark blue of the water. “She has to be.”
“Why here?” Sage stood next to me and put their hands to their eyes, searching like I was.
“She’s connected to this place. I’ve seen her here before—as an actual ghost, like, a scary one.” I swallowed, suddenly terrified that I was too late. Had Annabelle come back to life only to drown again? I tried to shove the possibility from my mind. “This is where she died.”
Sage didn’t say anything. Their presence next to me on the chilly beach was comforting, even as I started to panic.
After what seemed like ages, I spotted a pale hand sticking out from the dark water. “There!”
Her shoulders and hair were visible now, and it looked like she was conscious, struggling to stay afloat as the waves tossed her around.
“Marley!” I shouted and plunged into the water, not caring about the shock of the cold water seeping through my jeans and into my shoes. I rushed forward, shouting her name and waving.
I kept slipping on the rocks as I got deeper in the water, so as soon as I was in deep enough, I plunged in and did an awkward doggie paddle, keeping my head above the water so I could see Annabelle’s waving arms. She did the same, reaching toward me and kicking.
When I finally reached her, she grabbed my hand.
It was cold and slimy, but it was Annabelle’s hand in mine.
Pulling her close, I dragged us both toward the shore, kicking until I could reach the bottom and then awkwardly dragging Annabelle’s dead, heavy weight.
She was wearing a white gown that was much heavier than it looked and dragged behind her like a fishing net.
We stumbled on the slippery rocks on the little beach. Annabelle was a rag doll, barely able to move herself, and my own coordination was still hampered by my injuries. But I held onto her solid, shivering body, determined not to let her fall.
“It really is her,” Sage said, their voice low with awe.
Mike took Annabelle’s other arm, helping me keep her upright and holding her steady as she coughed. “We have to take her to the hospital.”
“She died over two hundred years ago, Mike. She doesn’t have a Social Security card or birth certificate. We can’t take her to the hospital.”
He frowned.
Annabelle’s skin, hair, and gown were gray. She was solid, but looked washed-out, like she just walked out of a black-and-white movie. Her body shook, shivering so hard her teeth clattered. Her lips were as blue as her eyes. She wasn’t wearing shoes.
“Marley, can you hear me?” I brushed her dirty, wet hair from her face.
Mike, Sage, and I maneuvered her into the carriage.
She let us move her, as limp as a rag doll.
Once she was seated, I held her tightly, trying to will my body’s heat into her.
“We’re going to take you home. How does that sound? ”
Her eyes looked much darker in the light of the moon as it rose.
The bloody red color hadn’t appeared yet and the eerie light of the early night made her seem fragile.
The skin around her eyes was shadowed with dark purple splotches instead of crinkling with smile lines.
She looked more hollow than she ever had without a body.
At last, Annabelle spoke. Her voice was raspy and thin. It sounded like every word was dragged painfully out of her throat.
“I’d like some tea, please.”