I See You

CHAPTER 8 - When the Past Comes Knocking

It was a week before Christmas, and Emma sat on the sofa, staring at their beautiful tree. Everything felt so surreal, like she had finally cracked and now lived in her own alternate reality where ghosts were real, she was normal, and Christmas was a happy time of year. Holidays with the Murdocks meant strategic events, press photo ops, and putting on an elaborate show for the public. Emma had come to hate this season, seeing all the moments she had dreamed of as a kid used only for PR stunts. But this year, Emma had a new home, in a strange town, playing house with the spirit of a dead man, and she had never been happier.

For the last couple of days, she had convinced Wyatt to stay upstairs as she worked on his Christmas gift in the basement. The surprise she had planned made her nervous. Emma hadn't chosen a personal gift since she was a little girl, and that hadn't gone very well. During her marriage, presents were predictable, an envelope of cash or chosen from a registry and mailed. They certainly weren't thought out or put together by hand.

The sun would set soon, and she found herself awash with nerves and unpleasant memories. Wyatt had been up in the guest bedroom, pulling up the terrible red Berber carpet the last owners had put in over the hardwood. They had no plans for that room, like much of the space in the house, but he still wanted things to look a certain way. It was up there that he felt a shift in the energy around them. He always did when someone new was nearby.

Teleporting to the driveway out by the highway, he saw a familiar car pulling in and instantly popped back into the room to grab the tablet. He ran downstairs where he found his beautiful little bird, stretched out across the sofa, and he prayed this interaction wouldn't upset her.

'My brother is pulling up the drive. Say nothing about me. It would hurt him... Better if he has moved on.'

"Your brother! What is he doing here?"

'I have no idea. I won't leave you, but please, don't mention me. His grief was ugly and long. I don't want to cause him any more pain.'

"Okay. Just don't leave me."

'I promise.'

Emma stood just as a knock came at the door. She jumped into the air almost knocking the tablet from Wyatt's hand before he set it on the rustic coffee table. She rushed over, adjusting her sweater where it had slid off one shoulder. Emma thought about grabbing her scarf and wrapping it around her neck, but that would be weird, right?

"It's Wyatt's family. He loves him. Everything's fine. He doesn't know I know Wyatt. I don't know Wyatt... his brother. I don't know his brother," she muttered, her hand hovering over the doorknob.

When the knock came again, she watched the lever for the deadbolt turn, and she knew Wyatt was with her. He hated that she felt so nervous, but he also loved her little private pep talks. Giving her a second more, he reached out and turned the handle, pulling the door open.

"Hi, I'm sorry to just show up like this. My name is Taylor, Taylor Scott."

"Um, hi. Emma."

"Nice to meet you, Emma. I realize you don't know me, but I swear I don't mean any harm. Would you mind if I came in? There's something I would like to talk with you about."

"Isn't that what all serial killers would say?" she squeaked.

"Oh, little bird," Wyatt chuckled. "My brother wouldn't harm a fly, but I do love your twisted little mind."

Taylor spluttered and huffed, his eyes going huge at the insinuation. "I, um, well, honestly I hadn't thought like that. I don't happen to be a serial killer."

"Why don't I join you on the patio, Mr. Scott," Emma said, reaching for her scarf after all.

"It's freezing out here," he scoffed.