Page 178 of Haunt Me

“And what a lovely thing it was.”

“Shut up.”

“Also, not the middle of the night over here.”

“Oh, crap. What time is it? Were you working?”

“Yep. Am in the studio right now. And I’m glad you called me.” She opens her mouth to apologize again, her cheeks scarlet red, but I don’t let her. “Listen, Fee, I…”

I am at a loss for words. This girl called me crying about her sister, and she trusts me. She. Trusts. Me. She was about to murder me a couple of months ago. And now she trusts me, and I don’t deserve it.

“I’ve got this, ok?” I say. “I don’t have to be back on the stage for four more days. I can be there in twelve hours.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she sniffles.

“You didn’t. Do you think Eden would like it if I came over?”

Faith is nodding eagerly. Crying even harder.

“Good. So, I’ll get there and, if she’ll have me, I’ll make it a birthday she’ll never forget.” I pause. She looks at me, eyes bloodshot-red. “One way or another.”

She laugh-cries again. “Don’t joke about it.”

“What else am I going to do?”

She thinks for a second. I wait. I am not going anywhere, as I promised. I don’t care how many times Skye blows up my phone. I ignore him, and everyone else. Faith has my full attention.

“So you will be the one to tell her?” she asks me finally, chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Yes, I’ll tell her and then I…wewill help her celebrate,” I answer with more confidence than I actually feel. But one thing at a time. I have to calm Faith down right now, this is my job. “Or we will help her cry, if that’s what she wants. Or she will spend the day with only her sisters and her dad, if that’s what she wants.”

Faith stops crying; it’s weird, like magic. I think I shocked her out of it. She did not expect me to say that last part.

“Oh,” she says. “You’d do that? Boy, had I got you wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

Her cheeks go even redder. “S-sorry. Thank you, is what I meant to say.” Then, lower, to herself: “Manuela said I need to start thinking before I say things out loud.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Fee,” I smirk. “I personally enjoy the heck out of your honesty, but maybe Manuela is right. And you know how much I hate to say that.”

That starts her laughing.

….

Man up, I keep thinking at myself.You can do this.

And what’s more important, no one else can. You have to do this.

Ergo, you can do this.

But here is the thing: I’m not sure I can. Trying to distract myself, I spend the entire flight to Chicago writing a song for Eden. I mean, it isforher, but there is no way I am going to let her—or anyone else—hear it. Ever.

I name itHappy Birthdayand record a melody for it on my guitar, which is my only companion, apart from my security team.

Sooner than I’m ready, I’m standing outside Eden’s house, feeling even more nervous than the last time I was here, if possible. Faith lets me in, her eyes hooded with worry.

“It’s ok,” I say, hugging her quickly. “Everything will be ok.”

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