Page 1 of Master of Chaos

CHAPTER1

Cass

Icouldn’t stop clinging to my little sister Reggie’s hand.

I managed to move away from that hospital bed and its beeping machines for long enough for the doctors and nurses to do their thing, but I stayed close by while they did it, ready to pounce as soon as they were done and resume clutching Reggie’s limp, clammy hand. I was hanging on to that kid like a screw-on clamp, afraid even to run to the bathroom to pee. I’d drastically reduced my fluid intake to make it less of an issue. There was a solution for everything, right?

Right. Like I could tether Reggie to this earthly plane through sheer force of will. One would think I would have learned how pointless that was two years ago, when Mom died, but I could be selectively stupid AF when I wanted to be. I’d certainly failed at keeping Mom tethered. She’d drifted away while my back was turned.

I wasn’t turning my back on Reggie for one second. She was my pal, my companion, my accomplice, in spite of me being sixteen years older than her ten years. It was Reggie and me against the world. Reggie was the whole point to all this nonsense.

Without her, I was nowhere. Nothing. I flinched from the thought of the echoing emptiness that would be my world if she were to slip out of my grasp.

Reggie croaked, and I leaned to put my ear to her lips. “What’s that, baby?”

“Mommy,” she whispered. “Here.”

“No, honey-babe. It’s Cass.”

She tried to speak and started to cough. I grabbed some tissues, held them up to her mouth. “Spit out the gunk so you don’t have to swallow it,” I urged. “I know your throat is sore.”

Reggie turned her head and weakly spat out a clump of bloody mucous. This was a new and freshly horrible symptom of Varen’s Disease. Mom had died of Varen’s, but it had carried her away before she got around to this particular symptom.

Shrimpy little Reggie didn’t look it, but she’d always been tougher than Mom.

I threw away the tissue, wiped her mouth, and reached for the water, positioning the straw for her. Reggie drank and smiled her thanks, crooking her fingers for me to bend close again. I did so. “What is it, sweetie?”

“I know it’s you, not Mommy,” she whispered. “I was just saying, Mommy was here before. I saw her.”

I jolted up, electrified, and looked around as if I might catch sight of her myself. Unlikely, since she was two years dead.No, no, no, Mom. Don’t come for Reggie. Not yet. Go back to where you came from, alone and unaccompanied. Please.

“Um… what did she want?” I asked carefully.

“To see us,” Reggie said, is if it were obvious.

“Who? Me, too?”

Reggie gave me a ‘duh’ look, and rolled her eyes.

“Is she here now?” I asked.

Reggie scanned the room and shook her head.

I was desperately relieved. Of course, as far as ghosts went, I was sure that Mom’s would be a benevolent one, but I wanted to have a sharp conversation with Ghost Mom about her timing. Namely, that she was here way, way too soon. She could come back for Reggie in, say, ninety-odd years. Not before. Off you go, Mom. Scoot.

But it seemed disrespectful to be such a bitch to someone who had gone to the trouble of visiting from the other side of the veil, so I forced a smile. “That’s wild, sweetie,” I said. “I wish I could see her, too. Tell her hi for me, if she comes back.”

Reggie’s giggle turned into another coughing fit. We did the whole tissue-spitting-water routine again, and she smiled at me. “Don’t worry,” she whispered.

“About what, babe?”

“You think she came to take me with her, right?”

I stared at her, bug-eyed. “Uhhhh…”

“I told her I couldn’t go yet,” Reggie confided.

“Oh,” I said slowly. “So… she wanted to take you away with her?”

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