Page 22 of Before the Summer He Found Her

“Well?” I pry.

“The… the ghost I told you about. The one I could see with my own two eyes. He helped me. Guided me until I found myself again. I guess that’s stupid and doesn’t really count, huh?” The words sound restrained like she’s desperately trying not to release them. Like this whole thing is making her uncomfortable. Like she’s scared of the truth and still unable to comprehend any of it.

I need to tell her the truth.

But Ican’t.

“It counts, Channah,” I say instead.

Her eyes peel upward, and she’s staring at me. Assessing me cautiously.

“I know I’m only your boss and you hardly know me,” I say, “but you can trust me. I believe you. I know you’re not crazy if that’s the fear.”

“I know you don’t think I’m crazy,” she breathes. “Iknowyou somehow, even though all my anxiety is filling me with fear right now talking about this.”

“Oh?” I ask, swallowing.Does she mean sheknows…

“You’re the same as me,” she says with a simple smile. “I mean, it’s odd for me to say we know each other, when we really don’t, but of all the years we’ve worked together, I just know that you wouldn’t judge me over this. I can’t tell you why. I… I care about you.”

“I understand the feeling,” I admit, realizing how true it is as I’m saying the words. Especially now. But even before. There’s always been something about her. Something that’s made me want to keep her on the phone all those late nights she called about a work thing. Something that’s drawn me to her.

Something that makes me want to find another job—and give up my career and time with Atlas Technologies.

Her smile fades, and it hits me we’ve been staring at each other, neither one saying a word.

To make this less awkward and assuage my nerves, I open my chicken teriyaki container. Using the chopsticks to my right, I dig into the food, finding comfort in the simple action. She matches me, picking at her sushi.

“Do you still talk to your ghost friend?” I ask, breaking our silence as we eat.

“Tom doesn’t visit me any longer, no,” she breathes, which makes me internally shudder. More confirmation.

“Ah,” I say, pulse racing. “So, uh, Tom helped you until you no longer needed him? Is that the way these things work, then?”

“Sometimes,” she says, nodding. “Every case is different.”

“And…” I pause, attempting to ask this in a way that won’t make me obvious. “I’m curious. In this case, how many times did he visit you?”

“There were nine visits total, but I don’t really count the first one. He said next to nothing to me.”

I abruptly stop digging through my food. “Nine visits?”

That meant I’d have to go backsevenmore times.

“Yeah. Er, it felt like more, but only nine total,” she murmurs, still clearly lost in her own thoughts to the point she doesn’t seem to notice the shock I know must be on my face.

“How long would Tom stay with you?” I ask, considering what she’s told me about it feeling like more times than simply the nine visits. As I say the words, my voice jumps an octave before I can stop myself.

“Ezra…” There’s panic in her tone as her eyes meet mine. She’s clearly paying attention to the fear covering my face now, and I realize how this must seem to her. “Are you… are youjudgingme?”

“What? No! No, I promise. That’s… that’s not what’s happening here. I’m sorry, Channah. I’m so sorry. No, I… shit, let me start over. I’m starting to develop an interest in the paranormal.” Not a lie. “I’d like to know how it works.” Also not a lie. “That’s all this is, and the only reason I’m asking how often Tom visited you.” Perhaps not quite the truth.

The anxious expression on her face settles, and she relaxes. If only a little.

“You promise you’re not judging me?” she asks.

“Never.”

She takes a deep breath. “You have no idea what he did for me.”

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