Page 101 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
Specter-Reggie’s eyes brightened. “Howare you different? Why?”
“There it is. You’re becoming so predictable,” she teased.
That had been a massive breakthrough—the house coveted information. More accurately put, conversation. Lucky noticed an immediate change when she stopped volunteering details about her life at present.
After gaining access to someone’s mind, Hennessee House wanted to have a discussion because it simply didn’t fullyunderstand humans yet. But it wanted to, so much so that she felt confident in declaring that its primary driving force.
“Let’s play a game,” Lucky suggested. She sized up Specter-Reggie, quickly assessing her well-being. She had to perform multiple mental check-ins every session as a precaution.
Initially she’d anticipated an eventual desensitization to the specter process, but that hadn’t happened yet! Seeing it hurt! Every night! She suspected Hennessee had a hand in manipulating the experience, ensuring it never lessened in intensity. As equally clever as it was cruel.
“How’s my nephew?” Lucky asked.
“You’re so stubborn.”
“Interesting.” She jotted down the reaction in her phone and scrolled to the list of follow-up questions she’d been using. The “game” involved seeing if Hennessee could keep up continuity across specters. So far, the answer was no. “How old is Reggie Junior? You gotta give me something.”
Specter-Reggie rolled its eyes. “Always have to be the smartest person in the room.”
“Very interesting.”
It seemed incapable of using direct lies in its responses and it never responded to questions Lucky herself didn’t have the answer to.
She truly didn’t know if she had a nephew, therefore an answer wasn’t possible. So, it pivoted to insults—words Reggie had indeed previously said to her. Hennessee seemingly lacked a moral compass, willing to say anything to provoke her into continued engagement.
“Does my nephew even exist?” she asked while consulting her phone again. “You claimed he did while using a different specter.”
“Because you believed it.”
Lucky did a double take, eyebrows shooting up. Oh, that wasnew. She didn’t hate her family—of course, she wondered if she was an aunt and if she’d ever get to see Reggie’s kids. But she’d never said that to her mom and vice versa. She never said it Reggie either.
Those thoughts were private.Hers.
Lying was out. Speculation, however, appeared to be permissible as long as the information came directly from her mind. Suddenly fired up, Lucky opened a new document to create a game to help break this new discovery down further.
“You’re hopeless,” Specter-Reggie said, drawing her attention. “You don’t understand anything.”
“Oh, but I will.” She was running out of time.
Nearing sunrise, Specter-Reggie had begun to fade. Its face began to take on a tired look—eyes drooping and bleary, mouth relaxed, head bowed as it continued to watch her.
He became more transparent with each passing minute as she timed how long the disappearing act took. Whatever energy its existence used had limits. She suspected communicating with her for so long was draining for Hennessee. It wasn’t used to this much attention, needing to rest and recharge too.
“Good night, Hennessee.”
She watched as it struggled to reply, face pinching with determination before relaxing again. “Good night, Lucky Bug.”
Hennessee House “slept” deepest in the first few hours around sunrise—completely dormant and unavailable to Lucky. It came back around ten a.m., tugging at her mind as if it’d been startled awake and instinctively reached out to confirm she hadn’t left.
She suspected someone being there comforted the house,because once assured, it returned to its dormant-reactive state until sunset.
Unfortunately, that tug also woke Lucky up. Every time.
“Noooo,” she groaned, regretfully rolling over into consciousness. Her phone was in her hand, hopes sky-high before she could stop them.
No missed calls. One text message from [Redacted].
“Damn it,” she cried, plummeting into despair. “I hateeverything.”
