Page 85 of Warmer, Colder

“We have.” The truth of that statement hits me. “I’m ready to let go. It’s what’s best for all of us. I don’t want them to know I’m here.”

“Are you sure?” Hawthorne’s voice isn’t judgmental but measured and considerate. “If I tell them you’re not here, it will be devastating, it’ll take them time to process, but it will also help them move on.”

“Are you saying it’s not the right thing to do?”

“I’m not telling you what’s right or wrong. I’m just saying that you should consider whether you truly want them to grieve and let go of the hope that you’re here. It’s a brutal process. But it can be very healing for everyone involved.” He levels his gaze at me. “Are you ready for that? Are you ready to let go?”

My throat tightens, the words hesitating in the middle of my throat, almost choking me. “Yes.” I exhale a long breath that’s not technically necessary but is centering all the same. “Yes,I’m ready to let go. I want you to tell them that I’m not here anymore. I want my parents to get their lives back.”

“The living have a hard time with grief,” Hawthorne counters, not antagonistically, but thoughtfully.

“I know it won’t be easy for them to let me go. But they have each other, they have Aiden. My restless spirit isn’t going to change the fact that I’m beyond their reach.” My fingers tangle with one another. “I’m done, though. I’m done lingering in this in between.”

I turn to Stasi. “I’m done trying to be things that other people wanted me to be, I’m done making everyone else my priority, and what I need, is to move on. To let go of who I was when I was alive. I’m ready to stop being Becca Murphy, and I’m ready to start just being Becca. I want to discover who I am without the expectations and the limitations. I want to dive head-first into a life where I’m loved exactly as I am.”

“And that isn’t what your parents offered?” His tone is clipped. “You know, you’re very lucky to have parents who care about you, who are invested in your happiness.”

“Is that why you do this? To make families happy?” Stasi questions, challenging the shift in conversation.

“No.” He lightens up at her directness. “I’m in this to help people find closure. A restless spirit is prone to misery—for both the hauntee and the haunted. I’m in this because I believe most people deserve closure and rest. The world runs us weary, tests us, and hurts us. But for some, the afterlife can be a release. And for those who want that —on either side of the veil—I’m happy to lend my…talents.”

“And what are your talents?” Stasi cuts in. “More than communing with the dead I’d bet.”

“You’d bet correctly, but thankfully, those services aren’t needed today.” Hawthorne’s attention turns back to me. “Ready?” With my affirmative nod, he stands and puts the chairback to its rightful position. “I can come back to check in on you, in case you need anything. Might be nice to talk to someone else every once in a while.”

Stasi remains silent, her mistrust clear. But there’s something about him that feels safe, like reassurance. “I’d like that.”

“Great.” He claps his hands. “Let’s finish this then.” Quickly, he sets up a few candles and lets my parents back into the room.

“Becca Murphy, if you’re still here, please come forward. Your parents would like to talk to you.” His voice is powerful and inviting as he speaks his intention. All that’s left for me to do is sit back and see how this unfolds. “Becca, I’m here to help you connect with your family from the other side. If you have anything you’d like to say to them, speak now.”

Scanning every corner, my parents search for some sign that I’m still here. I don’t dare move a muscle, needing this to work. The room collectively holds their breath as they wait and wait, but thankfully, Hawthorne finally puts them out of their misery.

“Is she here with us?” my mom asks eagerly. Matching hope lights in my dad’s eyes, but it’s quickly dulled.

“No, I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, but Becca isn’t here.” Hawthorne turns to them, holding their gazes with the utmost sincerity. “She’s moved on to a better place. I know that’s hard to hear, but you should be happy for her. Becca’s at peace now. And hopefully, you’ll be able to find yours now that you have some closure.”

Hawthorne doesn’t stay for the tears my parents share with one another over the news, but we do. This is part of the grieving process for me, too, and fortunately, Stasi stays by my side through it, her hand holding mine firmly, serving as my anchor. There’s a part of me that wants to run to them, that wishes we could be a happy family again, but that life was cut short by my own hand. That’s a decision I have to make peace with. It’ll take time, but I know I’ll get there.

Chapter 39

Stasi

100 Days Dead

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.” Becca breaks the silence we’ve been sitting in when the door closes behind her crushed parents.

“Hmm?”

“How would you feel about me moving into the guest house with you?” Focusing on biting her nails, she avoids making eye contact with me. Fearing she’ll find rejection there.

“I would love that.” I stroke her hair. “But are you sure?”

“Yes. I meant what I said, it’s time for me to move on.” Leaning up on her elbow, she looks up at me. “This room doesn’t feel like home anymore. It’s just a painful reminder of who I used to be.” I nod encouragingly. “Whether I mean to or not, my presence here haunts my parents; it’s best if I give them the space they need to heal. They deserve to move on too, in whatever way they decide to.”

“If this is what you think is best, I would love nothing more than to have you all to myself all the time.”

“Hopefully you don’t get sick of me.”

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