I'd never seen Charlie look so surprised. I didn't know her eyes could go that wide.
"Who's the girl?" she asked when I was done. "When is that supposed to happen?"
"I have no idea. I don't know what Beatrice expects me to do. I'm only seeing through the girl's eyes, but whoever she is, she doesn't see what kind of car is chasing her, who the person is, or even the reason she's in school at night."
"Maybe we should look around school tomorrow. You might find where you were running in the dream. What did it look like? In the first dream, where you started."
I frowned, thinking. "I was inside a building, and the walls and the floor were concrete. And it was cold." I sighed. "I just know I was in school."
"I can't think of where that could be," said Charlie, looking disappointed too.
There were a few knocks on the door. "It's me. Celia."
I glanced at Charlie, who shrugged. "Come in," I called.
Celia Jones entered the room, looking at everything. "This is a beautiful room, Bella."
"Thank you."
"It's quite clean… and organized…." She glanced down. "No clothes on the floor…."
"I get it, Celia," said Charlie, grinding her teeth.
Charlie's grandmother went to my bookcase. "Such an assortment of things… which reminds me. Charlie, I brought Bella a little something. I think it's in the car."
Charlie frowned. "What's the something?" she asked skeptically. Celia was planning to be alone with me… and I could just about guess why.
"A small necklace I found," Celia answered. "It's in a small box, a blue one."
With a sigh, Charlie got up and left the room.
It was quiet. I wasn't sure whether to go first or let—"
"Bella—" Okay, Celia was going first, "—there is something about this house…. I don't know if you feel it, but I do. I think you should be—"
"Careful, I know," I cut in. "I know what's up with this house, and it's fine."
Celia frowned. "Really."
I nodded. "It is haunted, and I know who's haunting it, and I know why… and it's fine."
"Bella… you're playing a dangerous game here."
My throat felt dry. "I know."
"You shouldn't have gotten involved, Bella. Not with this… or even with the Wyatts. You might not be glad that you did."
"Well, I did. It's done."
Celia nodded, not looking happy. "I'm not your mother, so I can't tell you what to do. But I do believe I have the right to ask something of you."
I waited.
She glanced back at the door. "Don't get Charlie involved. She doesn't need this trouble. I know Ethan Walker pretty well, and I'm sure he'd agree in keeping her out."
"Maybe that's the problem."
She frowned, not happy when my response. "What are you talking about?"
"I can't tell Charlie what to do either. Believe me—I would rather no one else be involved in… this, but there's nothing I can do. Charlie hates being underestimated. If she wants to help me, she can."
"It doesn't mean she should. Charlie has a choice in the matter—you don't. She can choose to leave and forget all about Beatrice—you can't."
"Thanks for that."
"Bella," she sighed, "I just don't want anyone getting hurt… not Charlie, Ethan, you… or even your mother. While I have no idea what you're doing, I can gauge what's the cause. I knew the second I entered this house that there were greater powers at play. You need to be careful—not just here, but in town. The Wyatts hold grudges. They don't like people who don't recognize they are in charge."
"I didn't find anything," Charlie called, almost to the door.
Celia and I exchanged a last look before she chuckled. "Oh—I must've forgotten it. I think you'd have loved it, Bella."
"Maybe another time," I said, though I hoped not.
"Well, Charlie, I think we should go."
"What? It hasn't even been two hours."
"Mrs. Ford has some work to do, so we should cut our visit short." Celia turned to me. "Maybe next time you visit us."
"Maybe," I said."
Once Celia left, Charlie grew serious. "What did she say to you?"
"She knows… and she doesn't want you involved."
Charlie groaned. "That stuff is driving me up the walls."
"She has a point—yes, I agree with her," I said just when Charlie was about to say something. "But I told her I can't stop you from doing what you want. If you're helping me, you better not pull a Ron and regret it and hate me for it."
She looked serious, and then laughed. "You're making yourself the Harry here?"
I chuckled. "I guess…. And then that makes Ethan the Hermione."
*************
Short, I know—but I just couldn't break up this next part.
YOU ARE READING
Cheshire Girl
Paranormal"There were three things about which I was absolutely certain. First, I didn't have my cell phone. Second, my hands hurt from gripping the trunk lid closed. They would probably be useless to put up a fight. ...
