3 • Her Mother's Faith

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We didn't mean to...

Ryan woke up to the woman's voice. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. They felt heavy and damp, and he struggled to keep them open. He sighed deeply, turning to look at the clock on the bedside table.

6:17 am

It was almost half an hour earlier than he would usually wake up. He slid back down into bed, pulling the sheet to his chest. He stared at the white ceiling above him, thinking about everything that happened yesterday. He thought about what he told Lya and he wondered if she believed him. His eyes started to close as he started to drift to sleep.

Linh... she didn't deserve it... Wallace... he didn't mean to do it

Her voice was jagged and it was hard to comprehend what she was saying. Each word grew fainter than the last. Ryan stayed there in bed, staring at the ceiling. Linh, he thought, how did she know her?

Lya needs to knowshe needs to know what happened

"How do you know Lya?" Ryan asked. "What does she need to know?"

But there was no answer. He sat up again but this time he pulled the sheets from his body. He sat there for awhile, shaking his head. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't answer his questions. This was the first time she actually said anything more than "I need to know who killed her". And he still didn't understand how she knew Lya and what she wanted her to know.

He stood up. Then stretched his arms so he could feel more awake. He thought about what happened yesterday. He had found out the house was, in fact, haunted but that was something he would never tell Jaylen. He saw the ghost of the girl that was murdered there. He found a box with a diary and a bunch of paper. He also told Lya about what he could do. Something he wanted to forget happening. At first, he considered doing it all on his own and hopefully she would forget about everything. But now she was involved somehow. The voice in his head wants her to know something.

He grabbed his sweater from the chair that he threw everything on and then grabbed a pair of jeans too. He put them on and then went down the stairs to the kitchen. His mother stood over a stove, frying eggs. Thin, chestnut hair hung down her face as she focused on not burning the food. He sat on one of the stools that lined the kitchen island. His dad then came down the stairs and grabbed a bagel.

"You're up early," he said, spreading cream cheese on it. He licked some that got on his finger. Then grabbed a plate and came to sit on the stool beside Ryan.

"Yeah," he replied. He had to come up with a believable lie. "I have to work on something before school." He could have just told him that he couldn't sleep but he didn't want them worrying about him. They've been very protective of him after the accident happened.

His father eyed him curiously but took up the bagel on his plate and took a bite of it.

"So why did you come late last night?"

"I was with Lya," Ryan said. His dad placed the bagel back on the plate and clasped his hands.

"Ryan you need to be more careful. Especially after what happened."

"Seems like you need to be more careful with that bagel." Ryan pointed to the stain on his dad's uniform. His dad looked down and then chuckled a little.

"Carrie, the rag." His mom smiled throwing the rag on the counter and he picked it up, wiping off his shirt. "You know I'm serious though, Ryan."

He nodded. "I'm not doing anything dangerous." And he thought about the old house and the creaking stairs and the moldy walls and the ghost. Nothing dangerous at all.

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