Dancing with the Dead ✔

Chapter Thirty-Five - The Past Is Nothing But a Memory

I take a deep breath. "Now, what I'm about to say might sound strange."

She turns her gaze to meet my eyes.

"A few days ago, before you collapsed, you saw Jill, didn't you?" I ask.

She gasps as her expression turns shocked. "N-n-no... It can't be! It was just a dream, I was dying so I was hallucinating... I must be!"

"She tried to save you and you said you were sorry," I pause when I see her jaw drops.

"H-h-how do you know that?" she stutters.

I take a deep breath, before dropping the bomb. "I can see ghosts."

She gulps, terror fills her eyes.

"And sometimes," I continue, "I have visions about what happened when there are ghosts involved. Like the night of your... accident."

She stays silent, probably not knowing how to react nor what to say.

"Sheila"—I lean forward—"Jill cares about you, she always does, and I know you care about her too-"

"Of course I do!" she cries out her frustration. "It might not look like it, but we were good friends up until a few years ago." A single tear drops down her round face.

"May I ask why you apologized to her?" I ask.

She purses her lips together before she answers, "She came to talk to me a day before her death, asking me to stop taking the pills. I thought she was just envious because my grades are finally getting better than hers. So, I said some things that would certainly hurt her." She takes a deep breath, then lets out a long sigh. "Now, I know she truly cared about me..."

"It's okay." I place my hand on hers to comfort her. "Look, Sheila, I'm trying to find Jill's killer."

Her look turns surprised. "I thought Doctor Brighton did it?"

"I have reasons to believe the person who sold the drugs had something to do with her death and Doctor Brighton was framed for it," I pause for a while before I continue, "Well, either that or this mystery guy she's been seeing. So please, if you have any information that can help me catch the real killer, now is a really good time to say something."

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, I can tell she's weighing the options. Then, she exhales sharply. "Look, I can't tell you much. But if it any help, Jill used to keep some of her stuff in the haunted house."

Her words caused me to jerk my body back a little and narrow my eyes. "The haunted house?"

"Yeah." She gives a firm nod. "The one on The Hill? We used to play there when we were in middle school."

Her explanation leaves me baffled. Seriously, these kids never cease to amaze me!

"So, how did she end up keeping her belongings in the haunted house?" I ask.

"It started with this stupid dare Stephen made us do. We were supposed to go there and take a photo as proof. But then, we discovered that the place was like a palace. It was really cool and surprisingly not scary at all. We found a lot of different books in there too. The books are way better than the ones we could find in the library." Her lips curve up in a small smile. "Jill and I love to read, so..."

Within seconds, she realizes something important and her smile is now gone without a trace. "Well, loved to read."

She takes a deep breath before she continues, "Anyway, we used to ride our bikes there every weekend. At first, it was only to read. But then, as we grew up, we began to have secrets, you know? Secrets we don't want our parents to find out, like boys and such."