Chapter 10

One secondI'm following Eli, the next I'm back at Churchill Bradley inside the chapel standing beside the altar.

"What the fuck?"

"Your place of death pulls you back. You can only stay away for so long."

I twist around at Zoey's voice. "You knew that would happen." My accusation is sharp.

"Sometimes it takes longer. It seems to be linked to your emotional state. The more upset you are, the quicker it'll drag you back."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You haven't stopped rushing around since you got here. I keep saying you need to stop."

"How am I supposed to fucking stop when I'm stuck here?" My shout echoes off the walls. "My best friend is being stalked by a fucking psychopath, and I can't do anything to fucking stop it!" I take a swing at the altar. My fist goes straight through it. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I can't even fucking hit something!" A roar leaves my throat, and an odd pulse goes through the air, followed by a crash.

I stare at the stone cross that used to stand at the back of the chapel, but is now in two pieces in front of the altar.

"Kellan." Zoey's whisper breaks the heavy silence.

I slowly drag my gaze from the broken cross to where my friend is staring at me, lips parted.

"Did I do that?"

She nods.

"How?"

"I don't know."

I walk between the pews, weaving my way up and down until I reach the doors, then stop. "Where are the people?"

"What people?"

"Students, teachers, security. I haven't seen anyone here."

"Oh … We have to think about seeing them. I was never into science fiction or paranormal stuff, but I think it's like a different dimension or something. We can only see them if we concentrate or if there's strong emotions. That can sometimes force us to see them. It's how I first saw Arabella."

"So someone could be here right now and we wouldn't know?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I don't like this. There has to be a way to change it."

"How many dead people do you know that have come back to life?"

I know she's being logical, but I can't allow myself to believe that there's no way to turn back the clock. I don't feel like I'm dead.

"Maybe I'm in a coma."

"You've just watched your funeral."

"Maybe it wasn't me."

"There was a photograph of you above the coffin."

"Maybe it's a trick to draw Evan out. That's something the police do."

"Kellan—"

"There has to be some way." I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling. "You hear me?" I shout. "I know someone out there is listening. Tell me what I need to do to go back."

Her sigh is soft. "You've reached the third stage of grief."

"What does that mean?"

"Bargaining. There's no one to hear you. I've been here for a year. If there was someone who could change things, don't you think I'd have found them and come back?"

"You're not me."

"What does that mean?" She throws my words back at me.

"If there's a way back, I won't rest until I find it."