Page 111 of Haunt Me

Lovely. Just lovely.

I can’t be bothered with that mess right now.

Eden.I need to check on her.

I call Skye, and he yells at me for being awakeandtalking. I’m not supposed to use my vocal chords that soon after a show. So I swear at him and he tells me that Eden’s plane is somewhere over the Atlantic right now and she is doing ok, as far as he knows.

“What do you mean? Howdoyou know as far as you know?” I ask him.

“Because I have been calling her every hour, on the hour, since she left Athens.”

“Oh.” I calm down a little. “Why have you been doing that?”

“For you, you absolute idiot,” Skye replies.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“If you want to thank me, go back to sleep right now,” he says.

I hung up on him.

I jump out of bed so fast I give myself vertigo. I usually stay in bed all day in-between shows, but not this time. My body is aching and my throat feels like I’ve scratched it with a garden rake, but I can’t be inactive a second longer. My mind is sharp and clear, and my heart is beating like a drum.

Eden is somewhere out there. My Eden.

I have a chance, no matter how small, of not losing her forever. It is an infinitesimal chance—but a chance nonetheless. A chance worth living for. A chance worth becoming someone I am proud of for.

And so it starts.

Saint Hope.


My phone pings with a message a few hours later. It’s Eden.

My plane just landed. Skye said to let you know in case you’re having a heart attack.

Can I text you back?I type, my breath coming short as if I’m running a sprint.

Aren’t you texting me back right now?she replies.

More than this.

Related to the songs?she writes.

Unrelated to the songs.

She’s typing. I wait, my eyes glued on these damn three moving spots. Finally:

Yes.

Yes?

I’d like that, she types.

I jump up from my seat, my whole body thrumming.

Good, I reply, and stop there, because if I don’t, I won’t be able to contain myself.