I struggled to breathe normally. Calmly. “Like I said, sometimes I just go unconscious. After that I wake up somewhere else, and apparently some time else.”

“So . . . you really didn’t just run away from me?”

Now the wounded tone in his voice was perfectly clear. I realized then that all his anger probably hid a simple truth: my sudden disappearance had hurt him. A lot.

Still, I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation at his stubborn refusal to believe me. “Why would I want to run away from you, Joshua?”

“Because I kissed you.”

“I kissed you back,” I pointed out, and then added, “and I wanted to.”

Joshua frowned, but when he spoke, his voice was significantly softer. “Are you sure, Amelia?”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes, to a million degrees! It’s just . . . well, I got really upset about my parents, and I guess I sort of lost it. After all, I’m a ghost. You know that.”

“Actually,” he started hesitantly, “I kind of thought that had something to do with it. Like you were afraid I was going to exorcise you.”

I blinked. “W-what? Were you thinking of doing that?”

“No!” He shook his head, looking surprised. “No way. I just thought maybe you’d be worried about it.”

“Well, now I am,” I gasped.

“Don’t be,” he said, suddenly intent. “I wouldn’t do that, no matter what. No one could make me.”

I blew out one frustrated puff of air. “Well, we’ve certainly got our problems, haven’t we?”

Joshua gave a bitter little laugh. “Yeah, the list isn’t a short one.”

“The nightmares are on there,” I pointed out. “So is the fact that you’re technically supposed to exorcise me.”

And let’s not forget about Eli, I added in my head. Or my inability to help my mother and save my father from darkness. Or how about what happens when you age and I don’t, or when your grandmother finally decides enough is enough as far as I’m concerned . . . ?

For now I kept those thoughts strictly internal. Aloud, I simply added, “I wish I could come back to life and make this easier on us. I really do.”

Joshua seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He frowned heavily and then dragged his hand through his hair toward the back of his neck.

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded. “Seems like it, yeah. You know, I have no idea how this works. The nightmares, the whole ‘you and me, Seer and ghost’ thing. I just don’t know any of the . . . rules. . . .”

The last word trailed out of my mouth, falling like a feather from my lips. It drifted away under the weight of something greater, something that had just occurred to me.

Two people—well, one person and one spirit—knew the rules and could help me. Could help us.

As I formed my plan, my eyes became transfixed on an invisible point outside the car. I started to speak in a businesslike clip to distract myself from the dark turn our conversation had taken.

“Here’s the deal, Joshua: I think I know someone who might explain what’s happening. Someone who could actually help us understand how I . . . work, I guess. But I’ve got to go somewhere this afternoon to see if my idea is even possible. So can you meet me there after school? And can you trust me to be there?”

“I think I can.”

“Good,” I repeated. I bit my bottom lip and nodded emphatically. “Now, could you tell me where your grandmother is right now?”

It didn’t take long to walk to the largest church in town, nor did it take long for someone to push open one of the doors and unknowingly let me inside. As Joshua had said, the church swarmed with people preparing for tonight’s midweek service.

Finding Ruth within the church also proved easy enough: she was the one at the front of the chapel commanding a small troop of women in an imperious tone. Each time she shook her head—probably to reject some lower-ranking person’s suggestion—she reminded me of Jillian, and I had to stifle a smile.

Any hint of the smile disappeared the moment Ruth turned around and caught sight of me. Upon meeting my gaze, she froze in mid order and let out a strangled noise of protest. Then, without breaking our eye contact or finishing her sentence, Ruth pushed past her minions and marched down the center aisle of the church.

She only released me from her icy glare when she stormed past and hissed, “Outside. Now.”

I followed Ruth outside the double doors of the chapel to the bottom of the church steps, where she waited with her back to me.

“Ruth . . . I mean, Ms. Mayhew,” I started, keeping my voice steady. Self-assured. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but—”

“You shouldn’t be near such a sacred place,” Ruth interrupted, spinning around to face me. She didn’t meet my eyes but instead glared up at the church as if it, and not some teenage ghost, had addressed her. “You aren’t worthy to be here, much less to exist.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t cowed, or even respectful. I was angry. So angry, in fact, I forgot what I’d undoubtedly been taught about respecting my elders.

“Well, it’s not like I turned into a pillar of salt when I walked through the doors,” I snapped. “So obviously, someone divine is okay with my existence.”

Ruth shook her head stubbornly. “If you’re dead and still walking this earth, you’re an abomination.”

I tried, unsuccessfully, not to shout. “Abomination? How dare you! You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” she said. “I know if you’re still wandering around, chances are good you came from that bridge.”

She had me there. I could only sputter, “Yeah . . . but . . .”

“But nothing. Even if you aren’t evil at this point, you’re—at best—an empty vessel that evil will eventually fill, and use. You’re unclaimed, but you won’t be for long. I’m sure he wants you . . . the boy who haunts that place. The one we’ve been hunting for years. So now that you’re here too, our work just got more complicated.”

The memory of Eli’s warnings about my nature—and my future—flashed unbidden into my mind. Then something else struck me. As I’d suspected when Joshua first described the Seers, Ruth and her friends knew about Eli, at least vaguely. They’d been hunting him for years, apparently without success.

“How do you know all these things about ghosts, and about High Bridge?” I asked.

“Because I’ve been studying the supernatural most of my life and watching that bridge for decades. I know what happens to the very few souls who don’t move on to an afterlife. And I know what happens to the ones who haunt High Bridge: they become slaves to it, just like that boy we’ve been trying to catch.”

“But I’m not haunting High Bridge,” I protested weakly.

Ruth finally met my gaze and gave me a cold smile. “You’re haunting my grandson. That’s enough for me.”

So this must have been what she meant that night at the Mayhews’ house when she’d said I wasn’t what she’d expected: although dead and freely roaming, I wasn’t the “boy” she’d been trying to catch. Even so, Ruth obviously intended to treat me in the same manner as Eli. As if I were some evil, rogue spirit.

I held my head as high as it would go, considering how much I’d started to tremble. “Joshua likes me too, you know. I’m not haunting him against his will.”

“That doesn’t matter. He’ll understand his role as a Seer soon enough, and then he’ll make the right choice.”

Ruth nodded, as if to emphasize the inevitability of this conclusion. But something about her words made me pause. I tilted my head to one side.

“Just so I understand all the rules: Seers get a choice to participate in this battle?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That question doesn’t really matter since every Seer has participated after they’ve had their triggering event.”