Page 13 of Christmas Spirits

But that brought guilt. And shame. Even now, heat burned my cheeks, as I waited for Laurence to say something, too conflicted to say anything first.

When his hand slid in mine, he looked over at me and said, “Are you ready to go inside?”

That surprised me. No comment on where we were? No question as to why?

He gave my hand a light squeeze, telling me he understood my reservations and wouldn’t push if I didn’t want to. And in that moment, I thought I couldn’t love him any more than I did right then. His support was what I needed, and that was one thing he always had to offer me.

Hand in hand, we walked toward the main doors. For the fifth time since we left Divine Magic, I glanced over my shoulder for any signs of the floating, tentacled evil spirit. I prayed that Arianna wouldn’t have any problem—living or nonliving—while watching Zach as we drove to the neighboring city of Chesapeake for this visit.

If anything happened to him… I couldn’t even think about it. I wouldn’tallowmyself to think about it. It only made my anxiety and my pulse launch into the air.

Laurence pushed the call button beside the doors and waited. The windows were darkened on the outside, allowing patients to see out while not letting visitors see in. But if my memory served, there was a camera above the bell that linked to a security guard’s computer, so if nothing had changed since then, we should be buzzed right in.

“Yes?” an annoyed male’s voice huffed from the other end of the speaker.

A bit flabbergasted by his aggression, Laurence stumbled over his response. “U-Uh, yes. We’re h-here to see—”

“Hi.” I leaned more into the camera’s view and put on my sweetest customer service smile. “We’re here to visit my mother. Cecilia Bishop?” Saying my mother’s actual name felt sticky on my tongue, like I was asking about a stranger.

“Come right to the desk,” the gruff man said, followed by the familiar buzzing unlock of the doors. Once past the doors, the check-in desk and the guard came into view. He was just as I expected with a harsh-looking expression and uniform that mimicked a cop’s unless you really looked. Meant to intimidate more than enforce, I guessed.

“Arms and legs out,” he commanded. We obeyed, allowing him to pat us down for anything that could be used by the patients as a weapon. He even searched through my purse and had Laurence turn out his pockets. When he was done, he had us sign our names, phone numbers, time in, and desired patient’s name into a book, took our pictures from a little camera on top of his computer on the desk, and printed out ID tags for us right then and there. He we instructed we keep them clipped in sight at all times or else we’d be escorted out.

It seemed like a lot for a place that was supposed to be a hospital. It reminded me more of a prison, but I pushed that thought out of my head as soon as it formed.

When we were finally allowed to go on our way, we hurried down the hallway to room 309, as I remembered, before he could call us back for something more.

The place was just like I remembered. Outdated. Unkept. With peeling floral wallpaper, green tiled floors, and beige metal doors lining both sides of the halls. Every one bore heavy duty locks from the outside—just in case—and no windows. When I was younger, I hadn’t thought much of the place’s design choices, but now I couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving my own mother in such a place.

Laurence grimaced at the ID clipped to his shirt as we passed a bustling nurses’ station and hooked a left down another corridor. “All that seemed a little excessive to you?” he asked.

It took me a second to realize he was talking about the guard in the front and his security checks. “It must be a new protocol. I definitely don’t remember having to go through anything like that when I used to visit.”

Not even checking the numbers marking the doors, my feet moved me out of memory. At the end of the hall, there was another nurses’ station, and then another left turn we had to make.

“Do you think they had an incident here? Maybe someone brought something in?” he asked.

“Or someone tried to get out.”

Laurence’s Adam’s apple trembled as he struggled to swallow. “That’s a possibility but also a way more ominous way of looking at it. I’m starting to think you’ve been hanging out with Jade too much.”

I chuckled at that but thinking about my best friend brought along another thought with it, making me stop laughing instantly. Wherewereall the spirits in this place? I hadn’t encountered one since we arrived. Even outside. No tingles. Not even a hint that one could be lingering nearby.

That was one thing I could always count on here. There were plenty of lingering haunts drifting through these halls. They were the spirits who’d returned to their place of death because of its familiarity. On past visits, I would be bombarded by their questions, their pleas for help, but now, the place was barren.

Everything was eerily quiet, too. Even the nurses’ stations weren’t busy.

How odd.

“What’s wrong?” Laurence asked, coming closer to my side. “Are you nervous to see your mom again? After all this time?”

“Well, yes and yes. I am, but that’s not only it.” I paused and glanced down the hallway before us and then where we once came. Still, not a single spirit in sight. Worry rustled inside me. “This place is clean of spirits. There’s not a nonliving soul around.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “But that’s good, isn’t it? No one to bother you or slow us down?”

“Yeah, but that’s not normal. During every past visit, I had to wrestle myself away from them, there were so many. Now… it’s empty.”

“Huh.” Laurence shrugged, seeming more relieved than concerned. “Maybe it’s something to do with the veil?”

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