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the screen of my mind and again, I stop to consider. Any time I have been in his room, it’s never looked slept in—or lived in. Not really. Thick dust blanketed the flat surfaces and the room felt almost shuttered in.

Why?

Surely James would have noticed as well? I mean, he even washes my sheets, for crying out loud.

Suddenly, I sit up in bed, making Wade jump in surprise.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he says, instantly alarmed. His eyes scan the room quickly, as if he’ll somehow be able to see anything.

“Why would James lie to me?” I say, unable to hide my irritation.

Anger swirls into clarity and I hold onto it, letting it burn brighter. It sears away some of the emotions I don’t want to deal with, helping me to think more clearly.

I seethe with a deep loathing for a man who’s done his best to seem kind and understanding. But it’s all been a lie. He’s been keeping things from me—from everyone. The only question is…why?

“How dare he?” I say through gritted teeth.

Wade lifts an eyebrow, gazing at me inquisitively. “Autumn, talk to me. What are you talking about?”

My face tightens and flushes with agitation. “James—this is all his fault.”

“Hold up, what’s his fault?” Wade says, his silver irises flashing in the dawn’s rising light. “You haven’t explained what the hell is going on. Did you have a bad dream? Or—?”

I turn to him, his face full of confusion and concern. I open my mouth to say the words, but I can’t seem to spit them out.

Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t know what the hell happened. I just know I need to talk to James. He has to be in on this.”

Wade sighs, running a hand across his face. “Autumn, you’re not making any damn sense. Maybe we should bring you into the hospital. I’m concerned about your head injury.” He raises a hand, reaching out to touch the spot where the tree branch hit, but I swipe his hand away.

“I’m not crazy,” I say, indignantly.

“That’s not what I—”

I throw back the blankets of the bed and stand up. “My dad’s dead and it’s all James’ fault. He—”

Wade jumps out of bed after me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up there. What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” I spit back.

His eyes survey me carefully, and he takes a tentative step forward. “How do you know your dad is dead?”

“Because…” I swallow hard, unable to believe I’m saying any of this out loud, “he’s the one who’s been haunting the manor.”

“He—wait. What?” Wade says, pulling up short and shaking his head as if it will dislodge something that makes sense. He stares at me with the most confused expression I’ve ever seen on his face. I definitely know the feeling.

My gaze falls to the space between us and I let out a sigh. “He…came to me last night. I don’t know why, but he was watching us sleep. When I saw him, he started spouting off things,” I say, running my hands through my hair and taking a step back. Pacing back and forth, I try to push back the memories, but they’re embedded in my mind now. “The more I think about it, the more I think he’s been gone a while. Maybe this whole time.”

“Holy shit.” Wade steps forward, reaching out for my arm. “That’s intense. What did he say, Dru?”

I look up, fighting back the tears that are threatening to emerge. “He said I need to leave the manor. That he’s been trying to protect me, but they will find me… and…” I cut off, fighting back the sob caught in my throat, “and you’re like a beacon. Whatever the hell that means.”

Wade’s face crumples. “What in the hell do I have to do with this?”

I shake my head, crying out, “I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. It’s all completely fucked and I’m just—”

“Okay, okay…” Wade interjects, reaching out and pulling me into his arms. “We’ll figure this out together. There has to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe you were just dreaming?”

I shake my head, fighting the tears blurring my vision. “I keep trying to convince myself of that.”

His scrutiny is intense, and he finally whispers, “But it wasn’t, was it?”

There’s no way I can bring myself to say it out loud, so I simply shake my head.

“Dammit, Dru. I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling me to him.

I lean my head against his chest, wishing I could take back the past twenty-four hours. Erase it all, like it never existed.

“I just can’t believe James would lie to me about all of this. The next time I see him…”

Wade pulls us apart. His eyes shine with a new level of empathy, but skepticism filters into their edges. “Autumn, you have to realize none of this is James’ fault. Whatever this is, it’s something much bigger than him. Unless, of course, he was involved, but I somehow doubt that.”

“But he had to have known. How could he not? He’s been lying to me—” I say, still trying to hold onto the anger. It’s the only thing right now that feels real.

“How did you not know?” Wade asks, cutting me off. “You’re the postmortem medium, after all. And if he’s been gone a while…”

I bite back my initial response.

He’s right. And it’s not like I hadn’t thought the same thing earlier.

”It doesn’t matter. I need to know how much James knows. I need to know how my dad’s been communicating with him,” I say, clenching my teeth.

“Fair enough,” Wade nods. “And I’ll be right beside you when you question him. But, you gotta keep in mind, there is some next-level crazy shit happening in this house. I mean, even crazy for us. You know? If your dad is dead, then it means something is seriously wrong. We need to find out what it is and how to fix it.”

“What do you mean?” I say, gawking at him.

“Well, I’m no expert, not

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