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  But she knew what she was seeing was not an actual boy.

  The certainty of what she beheld kept her mouth from opening and her legs from propelling her into the room.

  She watched him turn his back and walk around the bed until he left the view within the doorframe. She was struck by how quiet the house was. The boy’s footsteps didn’t elicit a single tick from the cranky wood floor.

  When he was gone, the infusion pump started to howl. It broke her trance and she walked over shards of ceramic, leaving coffee and crimson-colored footprints in her wake. She was not surprised to see that the boy had disappeared.

  She was concerned about the warning chime on the pump. When she looked down, the floor by the bed was covered in a foul-smelling miasma of blood and clots of infected tissue. The drain tube in Cassandra’s stomach had slipped out. Her digestive acids must have flared up, spewing rot and gore from the open wound the surgeon had left until it spilled onto the floor.

  The smell was overpowering. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting.

  What do I do?

  Her finger shook as she jabbed at the monitor, trying to turn off the alarm. When she moved closer to inspect the vitals display, her foot slipped in the vile essence of the infection that was taking Cassandra from her and she fell backward.

  She looked up at her daughter, who wore an expression of absolute peace.

  Still on the floor, she fumbled for her phone and called Louisa.

  Chapter Fourteen

  This time, when Brian got the call from Alice, he kept his calm. Louisa was there with her and would wait until he got home. He assigned Noel Rice to be the gym monitor while he jogged to Principal Mann’s office.

  Knowing Louisa was already there, calm and in control, made the biggest difference this time around. He drove fast, but didn’t blow past stop signs and red lights.

  Alice was on her knees cleaning something off the hall floor.

  “Is she okay?” he asked, pausing before going into his bedroom.

  “Yes. I kind of panicked, but it’s a good thing I did. Louisa can explain it better than me.”

  He saw bandages on her feet but concern for Cassandra was overriding.

  Louisa rose from the chair by the bed and motioned for him to join her. The veins in his head pounded and he had to take a deep breath to collect himself.

  The first thing he saw was the tilted lid of the medical waste bucket. It was stuffed with paper towels and rubber gloves spattered with blood.

  “Oh my God, what happened?”

  Louisa said, “It was nothing critical. Please, take a seat and let’s talk.”

  He was grateful for the suggestion. The sight of all the blood had drained his muscles of their strength.

  Louisa continued, “Your wife’s drain tube simply came loose. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. The GI infection will drain, with or without the tube in place. Your mother-in-law walked in to quite a scare.”

  Brian remembered Louisa telling them what could happen if the drain came out and how to reinsert new tubing when it did. Because it was all just theory to him, he wasn’t sure if he’d even remember how to do it. Plus, it was squeamish work. That open area was difficult to look at, and at times, worse to smell. His MIL did the right thing, calling for Louisa.

  “The more important thing is Cassandra’s fever. I just took it and it’s at 103. I think it’s time we got her to the hospital so she can have her port changed. It’s infected and it has to come out. I already phoned ahead. An ambulance will be here shortly.”

  He reached out and gave Louisa’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand. Thank you.” He felt Cassandra’s forehead with his other hand and pulled it back like he’d been shocked. “She was a little warm when I left earlier, but nothing like this.”

  “She’ll get antibiotics in the hospital. The port procedure won’t take long. She’ll be back home in a few days, once the doctor is confident she’s over the infection.”

  Alice came in with a wet washcloth. She smoothed it over Cassandra’s face and neck.

  Brian sat back in the chair, exhausted, worried, and waited for the ambulance.

  The operation was scheduled for the next day and true to Louisa’s word, only took about an hour. They would feed Cassandra IVs of antibiotics and monitor her progress in the hospital. With any luck, she could be back home by the weekend.

  Throughout everything, he and Alice spoke very little to one another. They were both tired and nervous, and to be honest, he hadn’t been in the mood for small talk. Once the surgeon told them everything was fine, they both exhaled, hugged for a moment, and resumed their comfortable silence.

  “I think I’ll go stay at my house until Cassie comes home,” she’d said when they were leaving the hospital. “I’ll make sure the old place is still standing. Besides, I don’t want burglars to think no one lives there. Call me the day before they release her so I can be there when she gets home.”

  “I will,” he’d said, feeling the tightness in his stomach.

  And now he had the house all to himself.

  Which was why he was sitting in the yard for the first time since moving in. He propped himself in his Jets folding armchair in the center of the yard. He’d found an old, plastic side table in the basement and used it to hold his beer and the newspaper. After cleaning the house, he decided to take a much needed break before heading to the hospital.

  He didn’t want to be alone in the house, especially when it was silent and he was still.

  He didn’t want to see the boy; didn’t want confirmation that he was crazy or the house was haunted. No matter the answer, he was the loser.

  Brian craned his head back and watched an arrow-shaped series of black dots soar across the cloud-filled sky. It seemed impossible than any living creature could fly so incredibly high, so free.

  Rolling his neck, he spotted the top half of his reclusive neighbor’s snow white head. She was sitting by the window, maybe watching the geese, too. He waved at the window, not sure if she could even see him, positive she wouldn’t respond if he were sitting a foot away.

  “Afraid of my house and bordered by Ms. Congeniality,” he muttered, taking a sip of beer.

  A voice piped up from the opposite yard. “What’s that?”

  Brian turned to see his other neighbor, he thought his name was Bob or Bill or something close to it. Bob or Bill held electric shears and wore battered work gloves, looking ready for an afternoon of yard work. A stained Giants wool cap was pulled down close to his brow. Brian’s own yard cried out for attention, but that was mighty low on his priority list.

  “Sorry,” Brian said. “Just talking to myself.”

  “No, I’m the one that’s sorry. I saw you waving to Edith in the window and heard you say something and I knew it couldn’t be to her. She’s not much of a talker.”

  Brian put his hands on the taught fabric arms of the chair and pushed himself up. He carried his beer to the blue recycling bin and dumped it. He looked at his neighbor over the hedge.

  “So it isn’t just me,” Brian said.

  The guy chuckled. “Old Edith hasn’t said a word to anyone in as long as I can remember. Even before she got older and infirmed, she kept to herself. The good thing is that you have a neighbor who’ll never have wild parties or play the radio too loud. I have been known to get a little crazy on Sundays when the Giants play.”

  Brian eyed his cap and nodded. “I’m the same way, different team,” he replied, gesturing toward his Jets chair.

  “Hey, if you want, I could trim a few inches off your bush back there. I’m out here anyway and happy to do it.”

  “No, you don’t have to. You have enough to do.” Bill/Bob’s yard was twice the size of his own and filled with bushes, small trees and tons of other vegetation that Brian couldn’t begin to name.

  “Not a problem at all. My wife saw the ambulance the other day. Is your wife okay?”

  Brian instinctively pulled
inward. It was hard for him to talk about Cassandra’s health. He was asked so many times by so many people, he thought it would get easier, like reading from a script. But it was the opposite and sometimes he had to force his emotions back under the surface, cracking a whip like a lion tamer.

  “She had to get a little surgery. She’ll be back home in a few days.”

  Please don’t ask for more.

  Bob/Bill gave a sympathetic nod and said, “If you ever need anything, just ring our bell and let us know. I said the same thing to your mother-in-law last week. You’re part of the neighborhood now. We’re a pretty close group. We even have a block party every summer.”

  “Thanks.”

  His neighbor smiled and started up the shears. Brian walked into his house with legs that felt like lead.

  I’m afraid to be in my own house, he thought, disappointed with himself.

  Then his mind conjured up an image of old Edith, trapped in her own house, shit, trapped in her own body. Was it by choice, or was her freedom ripped away from her?

  He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and headed for the front door.

  Thunk!

  He stopped at the sound of something falling in the room above.

  Brian didn’t wait to see if it happened again.

  The relentless tug of nerve-shattering agony pulled Cassandra from her deep, dreamless sleep. She always awoke in a state of total confusion, never quite understanding where she was or how she came to be in a strange bed and an even stranger house.

  Sometimes, she would recognize her mother or her fiancé, Brian. They would hover over her with painted-on smiles and soft words, but she could never make out what they were saying.

  Why is my stomach on fire?

  This was always her first thought when coming to.

  Why can’t I move? Somebody please help. Please make the pain go away.

  It was as if her body had mutinied against her, trapping her mind in a shell that refused to obey her commands. The pain and confusion were always there, always intertwined, frightening her until she wanted to escape, back to the black, silent place.

  She could see the sunlight on the ceiling, sense that she was alone in this foreign room. But she’d seen this room before. When? Images slipped away faster than they could form.

  It feels like someone is stabbing me with a hot poker. Am I dying?

  A small shadow draped across her vision.

  A pair of cold, emotionless eyes loomed over her. She wanted to scream. Her throat convulsed, opening and closing, but no sounds came out.

  Go back, Cass! Back to the empty place!

  But the pain wouldn’t let her go. It never did. Not until someone came to her and did something magical to make it go away. No one was here to stop her pain now.

  No one was here to make those eyes disappear.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cassandra was brought home the following Monday. Principal Mann gave Brian an under-the-table half day to make sure she got settled in right. At least it was good to know he was out of the dog house.

  Alice had arrived the night before and was quick to comment about the bags and dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t see the need to tell her that he couldn’t sleep because he was a grown man afraid of coming face to face again with a little boy.

  Louisa thanked the ambulette attendants and triple checked everything. Her every movement around Cassandra was feather light and graceful, like a ballet. He and Alice stood at the foot of the bed while Louisa made sure the drain bag didn’t need to be changed.

  Cassandra’s fever was gone and the waxy complexion had left her face.

  “Much better,” Louisa said, looking at the new port. “Hopefully she’s up and running before this one needs to be replaced.”

  “She will be,” Alice said.

  Louisa grinned and said, “That’s the right attitude. Cassandra can feel it coming from you as easily as she can hear it.”

  Brian felt too weary to fake optimism, so he concentrated on Cassandra, on her pale lips and long eyelashes, the rise and fall of the sheet across her chest, the soft curve of her neck, the skin beating gently with the whooshing of her pulse.

  Come back to me. Please.

  What Alice said next made his blood freeze. “Just before she went into the hospital, I saw her guardian angel. He was standing right here, watching over her. I know he made the machine go off to get my attention so I would call you. The doctor even said with port infections, every minute is critical.” She stared down at her daughter, beaming.

  Brian’s mouth turned to sand. He managed to sputter, “What…exactly did you see?”

  Louisa had stopped putting her things away and couldn’t break her gaze from Alice. Brian saw the look of mild concern on the nurse’s face.

  Alice sighed. “He was an absolute angel. Such a beautiful boy. I even told Father McKenzie about him and he agreed that God has sent someone to watch over Cassie. I can’t tell you how much better I’ve felt about everything.”

  She looked at Brian and Louisa but seemed to take no note of their stunned expressions. Instead, she said, “I’ll make coffee so you two can face your days properly.”

  Alice sauntered into the kitchen, humming.

  Brian had to grip the bedrail for support.

  It isn’t just me!

  His fingertips were numb and his heart felt like it was trying to gallop its way out of his chest. Louisa came to him.

  “Brian, are you all right?”

  He didn’t know what to say. He could only nod.

  “Your mother-in-law needed hope, and her mind gave it to her. That’s a good thing. She already seems like a different woman. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  Brian was about to tell her it was something to worry about when her phone went off. She excused herself and took the call in the living room.

  She came back a minute later and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “I have an emergency with a patient in Yonkers. I’ll be back tomorrow night. Call me if you need anything.”

  It took a herculean effort to smile and give a small wave. Alice continued to hum away in the kitchen and chirped a cheerful goodbye.

  The boy was real! He wasn’t crazy after all.

  But what the fuck was he? Was he a guardian angel, like Alice and her agree-to-anything-to-comfort-a-paying-parishioner priest said? If he was, why was Brian so afraid? Shouldn’t a guardian angel exude some sense of comfort?

  All the boy did was confuse and scare the living hell out of him.

  I can’t tell Alice that I’ve seen him. If I do, she’ll want to talk about it, and I can’t hide the fact that I disagree with her. Listen to her. For the first time in weeks, she’s happy, upbeat. You can’t lay waste to her hope.

  So the secret was out, but it was still very much a secret for him and him alone.

  A chill raced up his back.

  Is he here now, watching me, watching Alice?

  He looked around the room, at Cassandra lying peacefully, wondering if they were ever truly alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The whispering started three days later.

  Brian was shaving. The little radio he’d put on the shelf by the medicine cabinet was tuned to sports talk radio.

  His blade was mid-stroke, rising up through the foam from the base of his neck to his jawline when he heard a full but unintelligible sentence in a hushed voice. It came from his right, behind the closed shower curtain. The razor nicked his skin when he pivoted to see where the voice had come from.

  “Ah, shit,” he winced, dropping the razor into the full sink.

  Holding his finger to the cut on his neck, he grabbed the edge of the vinyl curtain and yanked it to the side.

  Empty.

  He found the volume knob on the radio and twisted until the sound was off.

  He waited for the urgent murmuring to resume. Feeling too naked, exposed, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

  The bathroom was si
lent, save for his labored breath.

  Maybe it was something on the radio, he thought. You just picked up someone talking in the background and thought it was next to you.

  First the phantom boy, who didn’t look like any ghost he’d ever heard of, and now this.

  After five tense, noiseless minutes, he shook his head and fished around for his razor. He had only ten minutes to get his ass in the car, and zero time to freak himself out.

  “Fucking house,” he said, wiping the remnants of shaving cream from his face.

  Alice was proud of herself. When she’d asked Louisa the other day to go through every little detail on working the infusion pump and the drain, the information really stuck. She even did it all by herself, under Louisa’s supervision, without a hitch.

  “You can teach an old dog new tricks,” she’d said to an approving Louisa.

  Which was why she didn’t feel the urgent need to call Brian and the nurse when she heard Cassie’s alarms cry out. Alice was dusting the living room, thinking what to get at the supermarket later, when the first metallic wail went off.

  She saw right away that the infusion rate on the pump was off kilter. It had been increased for some reason.

  “Damn computers,” she said as she pressed the alarm button off and readjusted the setting.

  She was startled when she heard the sheets rustling behind her. Cassandra tossed in her sleep, opened her eyes for a moment, then closed them slowly. Her lips parted and a tiny whimper came out.

  “I’m here, honey, I’m here,” Alice said, taking her hand.

  She stayed with Cassandra for the next hour, casting curious glances at the pump’s readout.

  Guess I’ll have to wait until Brian gets home to get a few things from the store. Don’t want that pump changing its settings while I’m out.

  At one point Cassandra drew in a sharp breath, and her hand lifted off the bed and wavered to her mouth. Her head turned to the side and her forehead creased with concern.