Perception (Apparition Investigations #1)

Case #2: Hell's Gate: Part 19

I stood outside my front door, mentally bracing for a barrage of questions. Cyril would have plenty, most of them likely concerned about me, Rose, and Esperanza...maybe a little for Noah. Oliver would want to know if Noah had been hurt, feel disappointed when I told him that he hadn't been, and then satisfied to hear that things had been taken care of.

On the drive over, I'd debated about whether I should tell them how we'd ended the case. Killing the ghost possessing Esperanza might hit home for them. Not that they knew this ghost, at least, they probably didn't, but they were all still ghosts. There was bound to be solidarity in that.

But then I'd remembered Bronte's betrayal at not knowing about me inviting Noah to exorcise Cyril and Oliver. That betrayed look in her eye reminded me that I couldn't keep this from Cyril or Oliver. Regardless of how it painted me, I'd tell them what we'd done in the graveyard.

All of it. Including what I'd done to Camilla.

They'd understand. That was just how they were. Like Rose, they'd forgive me for ordering Camilla.

I'd still feel terrible about it. And the part of me that knew I needed to be punished hoped they'd treat me coolly for a while. Or something.

Though not as coolly as they'd treat Noah. I'd never be able to invite him back to my apartment. Not that I had a burning desire to do so, but up until this point, they would have allowed him to come back inside if I asked them to. Now though, not a chance in hell. They'd fling him out through the window with their ghost telekinesis or whatever faster than I could blink.

"Silver lining," I mumbled, twisting the key and pushing open the door.

All the tension floated out of my body when I saw Bronte sitting on the couch. She had a mug of steaming tea in her hand, dressed in her usual lounge clothes of a baggy T-shirt and athletic shorts. It was like she'd never gone. She was just sitting there, completely normal.

Except for the sheepish expression on her face. She set the mug down on the ottoman and clasped her hands in her lap. "Hi."

"Hi."

"You look terrible."

I ran a hand through my hair absentmindedly.

And an awkward silence settled.

Her eyes fluttered downward. "How did the case go? With the little girl?"

"Fine. We got her home."

"Did you find out what happened?"

I shrugged. "We think she was possessed while out there with her friends. Whether it was on purpose or by accident, we don't know. But then the spirit couldn't get back to the graveyard...so it just wandered around...until it made it to Esperanza's house. We think 'home' kept getting mixed up between her house and the graveyard until one of them won out over the other."

She nodded politely, her eyes still downcast.

I swallowed down a sigh. "What are you doing here?"

"Moving back in, if I can."

I blinked in surprise. "You-you are?"

Her sheepishness grew as she rose to her feet. She locked her hands behind her back and nudged the corner of the ottoman with a socked foot. "If it's ok?"

"Of course it's ok. Sorry—I'm just surprised."

She took in a deep breath and then forced herself to look up at me. "I've been thinking about what you said. About your powers. And...and about mine."

I tried to recall what, exactly, I'd said to her. But I couldn't remember the words. I was terribly at recalling details—I was better at remembering how people felt, rather than facts.

She continued. "You said you drew lines, remember?"

I nodded, her words jarring loose scraps of memory.

"And that you were helping people. Hunting those, those things."

"The family business," I added, then mentally kicked myself for ruining the mood with a joke.

She giggled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "Yeah, and, well, I want to draw lines too. I like living here, with you and Oliver and Cyril. I like helping people—I want to help people. And I like these powers...I've used them since, well, since Nathan."

"You have?"

"Once. On a child when I was sitting in church. I didn't mean to do it—it just sort of happened. I saw his life through his eyes. I felt his joy and his happiness and his curiosity. And as horrible as Nathan's life was, this child's was equally beautiful." She sighed. "I shouldn't have looked, but I'm glad I did. It sort of lessened the burden of my ability, you know?"

I nodded, not sure what to say.

"But it was wrong of me to take that liberty," she said. "Those emotions and memories were personal, and I had no right to view them like that. So I got to thinking about drawing lines, and then I remembered what you said, and I decided you were right. I need to draw lines between what I want and what I don't want."

"You want to live here?" I guessed. "And you want to help people?"

She nodded. "But I don't want to use my powers. At least, not without permission from whoever I might be witnessing. And I think I can do that. If you help me."

Drawing lines, huh?

I nodded. "I need lines too."

It was her turn to be surprised. "With what?"

"My ability. I can't use it command people to act however I want. I don't have that right either."

She blinked, her curiosity warring with her desire to be understanding. Finally, she nodded. "I'll keep you honest if you do the same for me."

"Deal."

Smiling, she bent down to pick up her mug of tea. "Do you mind if we catch up tomorrow? Oliver keeps pointing toward the bedroom—I think he wants to talk."

"No, of course not."

She slipped into her bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her.

I turned to head toward my room when I heard her door open again. She stuck her head out, a serious expression on her face. "I nearly forgot. I've already texted Rose, but we need to have a discussion tomorrow. It's important..." her voice trailed off as she frowned.

"About what?"

In a snap, I saw her mind being made up as the conflict faded from her face and she gave me a dismissive wave. "It can wait. You two need a night off from ghost-hunting. I just wanted to let you know because it needs to happen soon. It's really important moving forward with AI."

I frowned. "What's AI?"

"Oh? Didn't Rose tell you? She picked a name for our business."

My frown deepened—I hadn't even realized we didn't have a name. "Oh. What did she pick?"

"We're AI. Apparition Investigations."

"Catchy."

"I like to think so," she grinned brightly.

"You really have done a 180 on us, haven't you?"

She shrugged, gave me an impish grin, and slid back into her room.