Chapter 3
He didn't leave so much as step back.
The man in the black shirt gave a small, polite nod toward the dark wood door behind him, as if he'd remembered something in another room. "Just a moment," he said. His voice hadn't changed at all. Calm, even. "Make yourself comfortable."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My hands were still locked around the glass tumbler and the amber liquid inside hadn't moved. It caught the warm ceiling light and held it.
He turned and walked toward the hallway. He didn't look at the four figures behind the beige armchair. Not once. He walked right past them, and they didn't move, and he didn't see them. The door clicked softly, not closed, just pulled to.
Then I was alone with them.
The living room felt tighter without him in it. The air conditioner hummed and the wood paneling seemed to lean in. I could hear my own breathing again, fast and shallow in my chest. The sage green dress stuck to my back.
I looked at the four women. Up close they were worse. Their white dresses were dirty at the hems, their skin really was gray, not pale, and their long black hair hung straight and still. Their eyes were lined heavy and dark and they stared straight at me, not through me.
I barely got the words out. My throat was dry.
"Who are you?" I whispered. It came out cracked.
For a second none of them moved. Then the one on the far left tilted her head just an inch. Her lips parted. She didn't blink.
"I was first," she said. Her voice was so low I almost missed it under the AC. "My name's Jenna. I came for the viewing last winter."
Jenna. Last winter. That was all she gave me, but it landed hard. Viewing. Like an open house. Like I'd come tonight. I felt my stomach drop. She hadn't always been like that. She'd been a guest.
"What happened to you?" I whispered.
Jenna's eyes flicked down to the glass in my hands. "Don't drink anything he gives you," she said. It was the same line I'd heard before, but now it was quieter, pleading. "You will be like us."
The one next to her moved suddenly — not toward me, toward the glass. She lifted a thin hand, reached for the tumbler. I flinched. I thought she was going to knock it out of my hands.
Her fingers went right through it.
There was no splash, no sound. Her gray hand passed through the clear glass and the amber liquid like they weren't there. She tried again, slower, and again her hand just ghosted through. She looked at me, and her face didn't change but her shoulders sank a little.
"He can't hear us," Jenna whispered. "And we can't touch it. We tried."
I stared at her hand still hovering where the glass was. My hands tightened. So that was the rule. They could warn me, they could watch, but they couldn't stop it for me. I had to do it myself. The weight of that was worse than if they'd been able to grab it.
Behind the chair, the third figure made a small, sharp gesture toward the hallway door with her chin.
He was coming back.
I heard his shoes on the wood floor before I saw him. The door eased open. The man in black came back in, hands empty now, that same calm expression on his face. He looked at me in the beige armchair, at the glass I still held with both hands.
"Everything alright?" he asked, polite. He smiled a little. "You haven't touched it."
I swallowed. My mouth tasted like metal. I had to hide the fact that my heart was hammering and that I'd just been talking to four dead-looking women standing six feet behind his chair.
I forced my eyes to stay on him, not flick to them. I lifted the glass an inch, like I was considering it.
"I'm just... not sure what it is," I said. My voice shook. "I've never had something this strong before."
It was a stupid, small lie, but it bought a second. He nodded as if he understood, as if I was being reasonable.
"It's just whiskey," he said lightly. "For the nerves. Guests are always a little tense at first."
Guests. There it was again. Jenna had said viewing. He said guests. The same word.
Behind him, Jenna shook her head once, very slowly. Don't.
May you like
I looked down at the amber liquid and I didn't drink. I just held it, and the light kept sitting in it, and the chair's rectangular pillow pressed against my back, and I realized I hadn't gotten up since he told me to sit down.
I stayed still, and he kept smiling, and the four women stayed standing right where he couldn't see them.
