Page 5 of Ghost Note

One who was happy to stick to what she knew—what was safe.

Two

“Jackson, turn it off!” Gina yelled over her shoulder.

The two of us were standing in her country kitchen, leaning over opposite sides of the island in the middle of the room. The council tax papers I’d brought over sat between us, and I watched as my short-haired friend pushed bright blue strands away from her face—the blue hair being a personal rebellion to the small village way of life—aiming her eyes up to the ceiling in the general direction of her younger brother’s bedroom.

“Get lost!” Jackson called back.

“Don’t make me come up there, you little brat. Turn it off or put some goddamn earphones in, or I swear to God…”

“You don’t believe in God, Gigi.”

“I swear to Satan, though! And webothknow he’s very real, and hewillmake you suffer for having such a big mouth and bad attitude.”

“I hate you!”

“Tell it to someone who cares, kid.” Gina shook her head and let her shoulders sag before her eyes found mine again. “Damn teenagers.”

“He doesn’t have to turn the music off for me,” I assured her, but Gina simply raised her brow accusingly. It didn’t take long for me to look down at the papers and start pushing them around idly. “I mean it. I’m better now.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you ever listen to music?”

“I listen to music.”

“When?”

“I do. I just prefer the quiet. It calms me more than the noise.”

“Give yourself a break, Dais, sheesh. You don’t have to lie to survive. I wouldn’t want to listen to the band my ex had run off to find fame with either. It doesn’t make you weak to want to pretend Front Row Frogs don’t exist.”

“I’m—”

“And before you say you’re fine, don’t. I hate those arseholes, too. Who calls their band Front Row Frogs, anyway?”

“It was already called that before Danny joined,” I said without thought. When Gina didn’t respond, I looked up to see her arched brow. “What?”

“Stop defending him.”

“I’m not.” I scowled. “I don’t.”

The music shut off upstairs, and Jackson’s feet pounded angrily against the floorboards, just to annoy his older sister that little bit more.

“It’s a good job we share the same DNA, or I swear to you, he’d have been put in a foster home a long time ago.”

I chuckled, despite the pain of Gina and Jackson’s situation. Their parents had died in a horrific helicopter accident only five years ago when Jackson was still so young and dependent on them. Not long after Danny had left to go find fame, Hope Cove had gone into mass mourning as several members of our small community lost their lives in the senseless tragedy. People who had once been vital to the community’s spirit were now gone because of some simple mechanical failure that ended worlds within minutes. Families had been ruined. People’s lives were changed forever. The news had taken a while to sink in. Even after so long, it was hard to believe that Mr and Mrs Jones weren’t going to walk through the door with smiles on their faces to tease Gina about her blue hair or warn Jackson about his attitude.

Life as we knew it ended that day.

Ever since, Gina had been raising Jackson, living solely off the handsome inheritance their parents had left behind. Hence, why she had been able to help me fulfil my dream with the shop, too.

“You do an amazing job of raising him, G.”

“I know.” She nodded, her smile fading a little. Generally, Gina always looked happy, even when crippled with pain. “It’s just easier for me to pretend he’s a little fucker rather than acknowledge that he’s a great kid who I might fail along the way.”

I slid my palm over hers on the counter. “You won’t.”

She let me hold her for a few seconds before she pulled her hand out from beneath mine, sniffing up to shake off her emotions. “Enough of that. Let’s talk about your big date with Ben tonight.” Gina rolled her shoulders. “He’s so strong, burly, masculine…”

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