Capitulum III

U nderstandably, he hadn't anticipated the cow toy rising into the air on its own volition and flying at him. His head snapped back with a surprised grunt, and he collapsed onto a pile of unfolded clothes.

"I didn't do it!" Betty insisted.

Cass ignored her, scrambling to face his invisible attacker. His eyes settled on the pocket of air where I stood, and even though I was sure he couldn't see me, his eyes showed a sense of recognition.

Had he expected me to haunt him? Had he been waiting for me all this time?

"Daddy?" Betty whimpered, sliding out of bed and crawling awkwardly over the mess toward him.

He gathered her against his side, eyes still on the dark corner where I stood. For a moment, the only sound was her sniffling.

He slowly rose, hiking her up on his hip as he approached me.

I didn't move. I couldn't move.

A small plastic block cracked under his bare foot, but neither the pain nor Betty's complaint swayed his attention.

He stopped a foot from me, eyes still scanning the darkness. Then his hand came up slowly, reaching toward my face. Part of me almost wanted to lean in and pretend I was alive, in love, and had my family back. If it had turned out everything from the year prior had been a dream, I would have accepted that to live my life with him and our daughter.

But when his fingertips finally grazed the corner of my mouth, he recoiled as if stung. The icy zap I received in return knocked me off balance, and I fell through the wall and onto the ground outside.

The sensation lingered on my skin as I fought to catch my breath. I flipped over and grabbed my cane from where it had rolled across the grass just as the trailer's back door creaked open. I froze, checking the corner of my eye to find Cass stumbling down the cinder block steps. He lit a cigarette with shaking hands, inhaling so desperately he burned off half in one pull, then collapsed in a lawn chair beside a sooty, makeshift firepit.

It was surreal to look at him, familiar yet entirely changed. He was tall, like Rigel, but that's where the similarities ended. Cassidy was willowy and soft, bordering on androgynous. Thick, mousy hair nearly as long as mine gathered into a ponytail at his nape. His eyes, once a striking husky blue, had dulled to dishwater.

He'd given up on maintaining his appearance. Without a shirt to hide behind, his ribs pushed outward, and his jeans had burn marks from the falling ash of his cigarette.

He sat there, head in his hands, smoke hovering around his head like a storm cloud. His stance was hard, but I could tell he was still trembling. The hand he'd touched me with flexed, and I could imagine him feeling the same lingering buzz radiating from the curve of my lip.

Just then, a whistle cut through the darkness. It sounded loud in my ears, undulled by the haze that always gripped the mortal world. Which meant whatever made the sound was calling out to the dead.

Cass lifted his chin at the noise, but it must have sounded similar enough to the howling wind because he didn't seem alarmed. But then his eyes stopped right where I stood, and I froze.

His brow creased, not showing outright recognition but curiosity. He slunk out of the chair and walked over to where I stood. I was sure I was invisible, but I was so distracted it wouldn't have surprised me if I had slipped up.

He stopped paces from me, just close enough to make out his eye bags in the moonlight.

I wished his misery was satisfying.

Then he lifted his lighter, still clutched in his fist, and struck it. The spark erupted between us, and his eyes searched the other side of the flame.

Despite my best intentions, I couldn't resist becoming the tiniest bit visible. Recognition flashed across his face just as he lost hold of the lighter. The extinguishing of the light brought me back to my senses, and I returned to being invisible as he searched the grass for the zippo.

"Agnes," something on the wind whispered, finally making me turn.

I spotted a familiar tall silhouette at the top of the hill, beckoning me toward it. I rolled my eyes but complied, unable to stomach much more of Last Hope.

He stood below the sign that pointed inward toward the town.

You're now leaving

Last Hope, Arkansas

There was no sign pointing in the other direction. The poor souls coming in weren't the problem. The sign was a warning. No one leaves Last Hope. In fact, most of the world had no idea a whole community was hidden at the end of the narrow dirt road that snaked up through the mountains. Everyone who'd ever made the wrong turn into Last Hope was still there, even if they were no more than bones.

Except me.

Rigel waited patiently as I slowly trundled up the hill to stand beside him. Up close, he looked just as he had the year prior, with dark features and sharp angles cut by an unaffected disposition.

"Do you really think it's smart to openly antagonize people?" he asked, nodding down to where Cass stood near the trailer.

"I'm just getting in some early haunting practice," I said with feigned casualness. "I thought you'd applaud my initiative."

"Credit where it's due. I do enjoy watching the bitchboy squirm."

I laughed. "Bitchboy?"

"It's the perfect word at the intersection of humorous and demeaning."

I paused. "What about dickwad?"

He shook his head.

"Not funny enough."

"Penis weasel?"

That actually got him to crack a smile. "That's a decent enough contender, I suppose."

"How did you know I was here?"

"Lucky guess."

I was endlessly irritated that he knew as much about me as I did, having read my history before me. It was invasive in a way I refused to ponder.

Tired, I sat on the incline below the sign, gazing down at the small, pitiful town of Last Hope.

For something with such an aggrandizing name, it was shockingly rickety. Instead of palatial farmhouses and lush gardens, most of the place was made from prefabricated mobile homes or dirt floor shacks. The town's population lived on a stretch along the far side of the clearing where the grass no longer grew from all the foot traffic.

Buildings in the little town square were even worse off, fashioned from scavenged materials. Many had dirt floors and plastic sheeting stapled into window frames. An unexplainable blight had eaten most of the once-lush farmland. It had pushed out most of the grazing land for the livestock, which roamed freely through the town, eating trash and shitting in the middle of the dirt roads.

Last Hope had electricity yet had no power lines and no cell or satellite service despite the vast sky stretching out overhead. Every computer or smartphone that had the misfortune of crossing the town border still technically worked, as long as your favorite feature was a loading screen. I'd been told my whole life that it made no sense, but it was all I'd ever known.

"How did she take it?" I asked, utilizing his renowned self interest to pivot the conversation.

He collapsed onto the grass next to me. "I don't know. She kicked me out before she started reading."

"Fair enough."

"I tried to warn her to see if she might need support, but she wasn't interested."

Disappointment leaked from his voice.

I shook my head, patting him on the shoulder.

"Give her time. It's a lot to deal with."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

We sat in silence, watching the moon rise high over Last Hope as the occasional silhouette could be seen moving below. In the low light, I could just about make out Cass stamping his cigarette butt into the dirt before climbing back inside the trailer.

A small snort erupted next to me, and when I turned, I found Rigel's face creased with an amused grin.

"What?"

"I suppose I'm just shocked." He nodded down to where Cass had stood. "He doesn't seem like your type."

"Which is something you find amusing?" I asked, though I couldn't help but smile.

Shaking off the frost that always formed on me in Last Hope was nice.

"He looks like he's afraid of bees."

I giggled.

"I would say he has more of a healthy respect for them."

"That's what I thought," he said, nodding slowly.

I shook my head. "Yeah, well, it's not like getting the sweet guy paid off for me, now did it?"

Despite myself, the memory of my death flashed behind my eyes. I could practically feel the sensation of his tears rolling down my face as I'd clawed at his cheek, silently begging him to stop.

I shook my head, trying to clear the image. "I fucking hate it here."

"Then, why come?"

"I can't just ignore the fact that she exists."

"She doesn't know you're there."

"It doesn't matter if she knows. It matters that it's true."

I couldn't bring myself to say that I was also there to ensure she was all right. Every time I snuck into the throughline, I worried she'd been snuffed out like the other inconvenient Kilmer women. It felt wrong to assume Cass would kill his own daughter, but underestimating him wouldn't be a mistake I'd make twice.

"You're just making yourself miserable."

I could tell he was trying to help in his way, to tell me the truth. But I just shook my head.

I couldn't stand that Cass still got to be alive, got to be her dad. Not just someone who gave birth to her and disappeared off the face of the earth. I didn't care about how miserable he looked. He didn't deserve to be rewarded for what he'd done, even if he'd thought it was the right thing to do.

"If you think I'm dramatic, just wait for your girlfriend's reaction."

"I'm fine with that," he said, grating his hands together. "I'd be willing to help you, too, if you'd stop avoiding me." I blinked at him in disbelief, which made him frown and add, "I do experiment with the virtues on occasion."

"This is the first I've ever heard of such an inclination." I levied a look at him. "Was the summer really that boring for you?"

"Painfully so. I even tried my hand at metaphysical cartography."

"Do I even want to know what that is?"

"No, because it's so boring that even the experience of describing it is like oxygen deprivation to the brain."

I winced at the description, feeling the echo of that tightness around my throat.

"Too soon?"

I shook the image out of my head.

"I was under no impression that you were tactful."

"Just don't say I didn't offer to help." He pushed himself to his feet, offering me a hand up. "Unfortunately, my first bit of helpful advice is to avoid haunting your murderous ex."

Instead of taking his outstretched hand, my eyes returned to the old trailer, where the kitchen light flicked on as Cass moved around inside.

I imagined him standing in front of the fridge, drinking milk straight from a pitcher to quell the gnawing in his stomach. It was what he did when he was anxious. His stomach was always the first thing to go, and the only thing he could tolerate was the fresh milk with a thick layer of fat on top.

"Please, Agnes." Rigel's words cut through my reverie. "Allow me to be selfish and insist that I need you to distract me instead of staring forlornly at your murderer."

I sighed, refocusing my eyes up at him. "Well, since you're begging ."

I accepted his hand, and he pulled me to my feet with the help of my new cane. It was equally as beautiful as my first yet felt alien, like I hadn't broken it in yet.

Before we crossed into purgatory, I glanced over my shoulder, trying to get one last glimpse of my old trailer.

The kitchen light had gone out.