Page 9 of All Your Tomorrows

I reached over and rubbed my hand over his back, still shocked that I could touch him. “Go easy on yourself. You’re dealing with a lot.”

“That’s the problem. I’ve been so wrapped up in me and my situation that I hadn’t thought about how my parents were handling it.” He lowered his hands and looked at me. “Maybe that’s why I’m still here. Maybe I haven’t learned how to move on when I’m so consumed with myself.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Then how?”

“Once you cross over, any selfish thoughts or transgressions seem to disappear. It wouldn’t be

the cause of you still being here.”

He looked out the window toward his house.

“So, what happens when you go up there? You can’t pass through the door?” I asked.

“I’ve never even been able to get this close. It’s like an invisible wall keeps me from this road.”

“Well, you made it onto the road. Hopefully, your parents let me in and you can just follow me inside.”

He nodded.

I rested my hand on his arm. “Look, I know this isn’t easy. But I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

I opened my door and a cold chill whooshed inside. Goosebumps scampered up my arms as I stepped out.

Kyler appeared at my side. “Let’s do this.”

I smiled as I closed the door, hoping for his sake it worked. We made our way up the walkway to the front door. A wreath with a big red bow at the top hung on it. I pressed my hand to the door. “Try to get in this way,” I said.

He placed his hand beside mine, but it was stopped by the solid door.

“That’s okay. Hopefully, you can just follow me inside.” I rang the doorbell and the melodic chime echoed inside the home.

Within seconds, the door unlocked. Once it opened, a woman stood there eyeing me while I eyed her. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and the same up-turned lips as Kyler’s.

“Mom,” he said beside me, the longing to see her etched in the word.

“Hi, Mrs. Fletcher. My name’s Nora. I was a friend of Kyler’s.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“She doesn’t believe you,” Kyler said, sensing something in his mother’s look that I wasn’t keen to.

“Then why haven’t you been by before?” she asked, suspicion heavy in her tone.

“Oh…I…”

“You what?” she snapped.

“I’ve been busy?”

She balked. “Everyone wants to see for themselves the stories they’ve seen online,” she said, disdain dripping from her tongue. “It’s despicable.”

“I’ve been in Florida,” I lied.

“Don’t come back here. We’ve suffered enough.” She slammed the door in my face.

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