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Page 5


  I see a female lying in a hospital bed, hooked to several life-support machines. An EKG sings out a confirmation of a very weak heartbeat. This person attempted to kill herself. Unsuccessfully, thank the Lord. I see her face ... it's...

  No ... not Taylor. Thank you, Jesus!

  "Jason? Oh my God..."

  "You know, don't you, K."

  "I think so."

  He sniffs hard, fighting back tears, I fear. "My mom's in the ICU, and they say she may not make it through the night."

  Mother of God! I nearly drop the phone.

  Celia's eyes connect with mine and she knows something's up. She grabs her purse and heads for the door before I can even finish the convo.

  "We'll be right there!"

  Chapter Six

  HOW CAN I BE SUCH A WHINY, selfish little me-me-me'er—"Oh, wah, I've had a bad dream that might come true"—when nothing's even happened to me! Get over yourself, Kendall. I mean, Jason and Taylor's mom is clinging to life at Radisson Memorial Hospital after an attempted drug overdose.

  Like, she could die!

  Like, Jason and Taylor could be orphans. (Well, not technically, since their dad is alive and well and living in Alaska.)

  But seriously!

  A drug overdose? That's something you only read about online. Or see on an episode of Maury. It's a throwaway news item about something that happens to other people in other towns ... far away. Not an event that occurs in the lives of one of your best friends and your boyfriend.

  "Is Mrs. Tillson going to be okay?" Celia whispers to me.

  Even though I'm not a doctor, I know she's going to pull through; she got here to the hospital in the nick of time. I see Taylor in my mind, discovering her mother's limp body in the living room. Poor Taylor! What a horrid thing to experience.

  "I'm waiting for Jason to finish talking to the doctor," I say to Celia.

  Up ahead in the corridor, through the sliding glass doors that separate the ICU from the waiting room, I see that Taylor is clinging to her taller twin brother as the doctor relays information to them. Taylor, the bubbliest person I know, the girl who lets nothing get in her way or keep her down, is inconsolable. I can see that she's racked with sobs, and Jason is doing his best to comfort her.

  After a moment, the doctor pats Jason on the shoulder and rubs Taylor's hair affectionately. My senses tell me that this is their family doctor, the man who's been taking care of the twins since they were little. He's almost as devastated by this turn of events as the Tillson kids. The doctor walks off, and Jason releases Taylor so he can sit on a nearby couch. I watch as he puts his head in his hands and begins to cry. Taylor sits next to him, wraps her arms around his shoulders, and rests her blond head on his slumped back.

  "Holy shit," Celia says. "Did their mom die?"

  "No," I say emphatically. "But it's not good."

  I want to go to them both, let them know we're here for them. They aren't even aware of our presence yet. We'll give them a little more time together.

  A wave of guilt crashes around me like a mighty tsunami hitting the beach. Suddenly, I feel like this is my fault. Not like I gave her the pills or what have you, but if I hadn't been so focused on myself, maybe I would have seen this coming. I could have warned my friends that their mom was shaky and troubled. Something ... anything to help.

  Don't do that to yourself, Kendall.

  I need Emily to piss off right now.

  Becca rushes around the corner, nearly out of breath. "I got here as soon as I could. There's, like, no parking at this hospital." She glances about in search of the Tillsons. "Any news?"

  "We're waiting," Celia says, squeezing my hand. I wasn't even aware we'd clasped fingers on our arrival at the hospital.

  A nurse hustles by with a stack of charts, headed into the ICU.

  "Excuse me, ma'am," I call out. "Is there any way we can see our friends, who are just through those doors?"

  The nurse turns toward the Tillsons and then back to me. "Aren't you Sarah Moorehead's daughter?"

  "Yes, ma'am. How did you know?" Is there yet another psychic in town?

  "Kendall, right. I'm Erma Jean Wamback. I work part-time in Dr. Murphy's office with your mama, and I've seen your picture on her desk."

  "Oh, right. She's mentioned your name."

  "Y'all are friends of Rachel Tillson?" Erma Jean asks.

  Celia answers. "Her kids are our best friends. Is there any way we can see them?"

  Erma Jean nods her head at the sliding glass door. "If y'all just be quiet, it should be okay."

  God bless small-town living.

  Without wasting another second, the three of us forge ahead to Jason and Taylor, trying our best not to make a ruckus.

  "Oh, you guys," I nearly wail, unable to control my emotions. Jason lifts his head and turns his blue eyes to me. We come together in seconds and embrace. He's never hugged me to him this tightly, as if grasping me will make all the hurt go away. I kiss him next to his ear and whisper softly, "I'm here for you, sweetie."

  A wet tear from Jason touches my cheek as we're pressed together. I just rock him back and forth as the emotions of the day drain from him. Over my shoulder, I see Taylor being embraced by both Celia and Becca and crying as hard as her brother. I smile at her, not knowing what else to do.

  "I-I-I can't believe she-she-she tried to kill herself," Taylor manages to get out between sobs. "I found her when I got home from yearbook and she-she-she wasn't moving. I called nine one one and just prayed as hard as I could until they got there."

  "What did they do to her?" Becca asks, always needing the gory details of everything.

  Taylor sips in some air. "They said she wasn't breathing and made me leave the room. I called Jason and tried not to freak out." Her tears begin flowing harder. "I guess I'm freaking out now."

  Jason pushes back from me, but not away, lacing his fingers through mine. He reaches out for his sister with his other hand, bringing her close inside his protective hug. "We don't know what happened, Tay. She may have only accidentally taken too many of her pills."

  Erma Jean joins all of us and passes over a box of tissues to Taylor. "Why don't y'all go down to the cafeteria and get some Cokes or something? I just checked on your mama and she's in stable condition but still unconscious. It's going to be a while before she wakes up."

  "Can't we stay with her?" Taylor asks.

  "Sure thing, honey," Erma Jean says. "But why don't you get some air and collect yourself first. Is there a family member who can come get y'all?"

  Taylor shakes her mane of hair to indicate no.

  "I called Dad," Jason admits.

  "You what?"

  "Yeah, Tay. I had no choice. What was I supposed to do?"

  "What's he supposed to do?" she asks. "He left her months ago."

  "He's still her husband," Jason says. "And our father. Do you want them to, like, put us in a foster home or separate us or something?"

  Taylor drops her eyes. "I hadn't thought of that."

  Erma Jean pipes up. "Kendall, I called your mama. She's headed over here soon and said she'll do everything she can to help."

  "That's really sweet," Taylor says through a fresh sheen of tears.

  "Come on," Celia suggests, "let's go to the cafeteria and wait for Kendall's mom. Milk shakes on me, to calm the nerves."

  A weak smile crosses Taylor's lips and she wraps her arm around Celia. Becca follows, and Jason and I bring up the rear going down the long white hallway. Fifteen minutes later, we're seated at a table finishing our cold drinks when Mom rushes in to find us. Behind her is Jason's best friend, Jim Roach; Jim's dad; and Taylor's boyfriend, Ryan MacKenzie. Taylor launches herself into Ryan's arms and starts to cry again.

  "You poor things," Mom starts. "I'm so sorry about this."

  "Thanks, Mrs. Moorehead," Jason says, polite to a fault. He fills her in on what he knows about his mom's condition.

  Mom smoothes his hair across his forehead, such a parental move. I ca
n tell she cares about him, though, because he means so much to me. "I talked to Dr. Strasberg and he says your mom is in stable condition, but they're watching her very closely. You have to do that when it's suspected that someone tried to take her own life."

  I can see how difficult it was for Mom to actually say that. She's a professional though. She's birthed babies and informed loved ones of untimely passings. As an emergency room nurse in Chicago, she saw it all and did everything—as much as any doctor had to do.

  "Your mom took too much of the medication that she's using for her depression. The doctors want to keep her for several days, as you can imagine."

  "When can we see her?" Taylor asks.

  "We'll go up right now," Mom says. "Someone said your father has been called?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Jason says with a nod. "I talked to him about an hour ago. Thing is, he doesn't know how soon he can get here. He's, like, at this remote location of the park where they dropped him off by seaplane. He has to wait until they can come back and get him. It's totally screwed up. I mean, I had to talk to him through this radio because his cell phone doesn't work. Thing is, he said he'd do his best to get here as soon as he can."

  Taylor crosses her arms over her chest and harrumphs. "Typical."

  Jason lowers his head. "Come on, Tay..."

  Mr. Roach steps forward. "If there's anything Norma and I can do for the kids..."

  "They'll need a place for the night," Mom tells him. "Taylor, you're welcome to stay with us. Maybe you guys can let Jason stay with you?"

  "Absolutely," Jim says.

  Jason gives him a halfhearted fist bump. "Thanks, man."

  Jim nods. "I got your back, dude."

  Mom hugs Taylor to her. "Let's go see your mom and then we'll swing by your house and pick up enough clothes for school and the next few days. Whatever you need."

  I watch as my friends walk along with my mother, listening intently to her calming voice. Taylor glances back and me and smiles her thanks. She's so fragile right now, someone who's usually so self-confident and sure of herself. I catch up with her and hug her to me.

  "I'm scared of what's going to happen to us," she whispers.

  "We're going to take care of you, that's what."

  "No, I mean ... after." She takes a deep breath. "Nothing's ever going to be the same. Ever."

  I try to latch on to her thoughts or to see what's ahead for her future. It's quite hazy. Always is when it comes to anything that has to do with Jason. We're connected, but I can't get any kind of psychic readings on him. It apparently goes for Taylor too.

  "I know, hon ... I know." I try to reassure her. What do I know, though? I'm just a kid like her.

  "Maybe Daddy'll come back to Radisson."

  "At least for the time being," I say. "You've got a place with me, though, for as long as you need it."

  "Thanks, Kendall. You're such a good friend to me."

  "Anything for you, Tay."

  So, due to the circumstances, we've opted to postpone our ghost-hunting efforts at Mayor Shy's house until next weekend. Celia thought we should go ahead with it to help Taylor keep her mind off things, but my mom frowned on doing an investigation while a team member's mother was lying in the ICU. She has a point.

  I'm sitting in study hall with Becca, racing her at online sudoku, while Celia continues her Internet search of all things Emily Faulkner related. I can't even think about Emily right now. Taylor cried herself to sleep last night lying next to me in bed. Emily may have been there, for all I know; however, I was too concerned about my friend to pay attention to some obstinate ghost with secrets she doesn't care to share with someone she claims to love. What ever. Taylor thrashed around most of the night, so neither of us got much sleep.

  The lack of slumber shows in her pretty face—the hollow eyes, dark circles, and downturned mouth. Of course, if my mom had tried to end her life and I'd found her on the living room carpet, I might be a bit sullen myself.

  As I'm about to finish an expert-level sudoku puzzle, my phone buzzes out a text message. It's Jason.

  > U c Tay?

  > I'm in study hall.

  > Can't find her anywhere.

  > So?

  > Worried @ her!

  > She's ok

  > U don't no that!

  It's obvious that Jason's overprotective gene has kicked into double overdrive. I can't blame him, though.

  When the bell rings, Jason's at my locker, concern painted across his handsome face. "I still can't find her," he proclaims.

  "Calm down. She's at school. What can happen to her?"

  He begins to pace. "You don't understand, Kendall."

  "Sure I do. I'm the one who listened to her cry all night."

  He stops and turns. "Why didn't you tell me that? Why didn't she tell me that? I haven't seen her all day."

  I try to reassure him. "She's here. We came to school together in my car."

  Not knowing any better, Celia jumps into the convo. "I didn't see Taylor in chemistry class. Maybe she ditched to have some time to herself."

  Behind Jason's back, I mouth at Celia, Not helping!

  Jason whips out his phone and dials his sister's number. "Straight to voice mail."

  "Jason, it's going to be..." I trail off. Is it really going to be okay?

  He glares at me like it's my fault that he can't find his sister. "I'm going to the office to see if she's counted as absent today."

  I grab at his shirtsleeve. "Don't do that. What if she is cutting? You want to get her in trouble?"

  "Damn right I do!"

  Good Lord.

  Fortunately, the bell for last period sounds out and we all scatter to our respective classrooms, like cockroaches taking cover in a suddenly lit-up room. Gross analogy, I know, but it works here. Jason storms off toward the gym with cell phone in hand. He's not a happy boy right now. My intuition tells me that Taylor's okay ... she just needs some space. It's not every day that a teenager has to deal with what she's juggling. I'm not going to tell her what to do.

  When school's over for the day, I gather my weekend homework and head out to the parking lot, where I see Taylor leaning against the Fit.

  "Where you been, chica?" I ask, trying not to sound like a concerned parent.

  She raises her shoulders and then lets them slump back into place. Her Nikon D40 camera hangs from her neck, and her right hand rests on top of the lens cannon as if it's a life preserver for her. "I needed some space."

  "I understand."

  "It was such a pretty day, I just sort of ended up walking around and taking pictures of Radisson. There's so much to see when you look through the camera. So many angles and views you never imagined. I even went to the cemetery and took some shots that I'm going to convert to black-and-white. They turned out très magnifique and will make a great addition on the Ghost Huntress website and my portfolio."

  We rest against the side of my car and scroll through the many digital images that Taylor took today. She really is an amazing photographer and I know she'll be able to do something with it in her future. The way she frames the shot, it's almost like she's got a psychic eye and can see the result before she snaps the button.

  I'm about to comment on a wicked angle of a grave marker with sun flares when Jason comes storming across the parking lot bellowing at the top of his lungs.

  "Where the hell have you been, Taylor? I've been looking for you everywhere!" She staves him off with her hands, but he's not having any of it. "It's not bad enough that Mom's laying in the ICU fighting for her life—you have to pull a disappearing act like you're some sort of toddler who's run away from home."

  She arches up defensively like I've never seen before. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

  "I'm your older brother and I'll say what I want. You had me scared shitless."

  Taylor flattens her lips. "Well, get over yourself. You're not in charge of me."

  He reaches for her upper arm. "I am when Mom is incapacitated and Dad i
s halfway across the continent."

  Stupidly, I comment, "Your dad will be here soon, right?"

  Jason's blue eyes darken to a near navy color as he tells me nonverbally to butt out.

  "You're not my keeper, Jason Tillson," Taylor shouts. Tears begin to escape her eyes. "And you're not the only one hurt and upset over Mom. Was it you who found her? No! Was it you who had to call nine one one? No! Was it you who rode in the ambulance with her? No! It was me ... all three of those things. So, I think you need to just ... just... ne me dites pas quoi faire!"

  Jason is stunned, as am I. I don't have to be psychic—or French—to know that Taylor just told him to back off and leave her alone, and how!

  "Taylor!"

  It's too late. She spins on her heels and runs off toward the gym, no doubt looking for Ryan.

  I feel I need to help. "The more you push her, the more defiant she'll become. Just let her handle this in her own way, Jason."

  "What do you know, Kendall?" Jason doesn't mean to snap at me, I'm sure, although I'm the target of his pent-up frustrations. "You have two parents that are still together. You have a mom that's okay. One that hasn't been seeking plastic surgery to change herself and psychotherapy to deal with the desertion of her husband."

  "I know that, Jase—"

  "Don't tell me how to deal with my sister and we'll be fine." He follows in Taylor's wake and I choose not to follow.

  At home, later, Taylor decides to join us for dinner. Dad's working late and Kaitlin's spending the night at Penny Carmickle's, so it's just us girls and Mom. It's a quiet dinner with questions of how the day was, how Taylor's mom is doing (still unconscious), and what our plans are for tonight.

  "We have a bunch of movies from Netflix," Mom says. "Why don't you girls stay in tonight? You can pop some popcorn and turn the lights off."

  "That sounds like fun. What do you think, Taylor?"

  She pushes her butter beans around on her plate—which I don't blame her for—and gives a half smile. "Sure. Whatever."