Page 91 of Waiting For A Girl Like You (Haven House #4)

“That’s so sad,” she sighed. “I mean, it’s sad, but it’s not sad? I don’t know what I’m trying to say, honestly.”

Liam didn’t reply, and she knew he was waiting for her to catch up. “Okay, tell me. You never go quiet unless you’re getting to the meat of it.”

“Sinclair was told he had ten to twelve months to live. Surgery was an option, but he wasn’t sure that was the path he wanted. Living without CeCe wasn’t worth it, so he came to Haven House and sat in the graveyard to feel close to her while he made his decision.”

“He told me he did that a lot,” she whispered.

“He wrote about it in the journals, too. But on this particular visit, he claims he saw CeCe’s ghost. She told him the truth about how she died.”

Jamison’s eyebrows lifted. “Did he know then that the brain tumor was causing hallucinations?”

She might have been out of it on the night Michael tried to kidnap her, but she could remember how he screamed at the ball of light and almost begged her to admit she saw it, too.

Perhaps one day, she would stop and reflect on her own experiences.

Perhaps even find a rational explanation for them.

But for now, she didn’t have the time to dwell on her weird encounters or odd dreams.

And she certainly didn’t want to think about how the dreams had tapered off into nothing.

Since they escaped, there had been no more nightly visions. Not of her mother or CeCe. She mourned the loss of her mother, but not CeCe. As far as she was concerned, CeCe Miller could rest in peace quietly.

“So, he understands that he has a brain tumor and knows they cause hallucinations, yet he thinks CeCe’s ghost talked to him?”

“Not just talked to him. This ghost supposedly told him that Taylor was involved with CeCe’s death and that she had only killed herself because she was terrified of what Toby would do once Taylor worked him into a frenzy.”

She heard the shuffle of papers being shifted around. Liam and Holden were in the car, driving back to their hotel, which was quite a distance from the staging site .

“Everyone knows CeCe ate that manchineel fruit,” he muttered, sounding like he was looking for something. “Toxicology confirmed it. Toby claimed it was suicide, which it was.”

Jamison pressed her fingertips to her temples, massaging in circles as if it would help shove all this information into her head. “And what does that have to do with him hallucinating about CeCe?”

“The hallucination said he needed to go see Taylor and have a chat about the night CeCe died. The original story Taylor told Sinclair was that Toby never wanted to hurt his sister and had taken CeCe out into the swamp so she would have a nice view of Haven House from the water while he convinced her to reconnect with their family. That made complete sense to Sinclair. Hell, he was planning to build her a near replica of the place and knew how much Haven House meant to CeCe.”

“So, ghost CeCe tells him Taylor did something bad, and to go talk to her, which he obviously did.”

“Hold on, I want to read this part to you.” He shuffled around more, sorting through something in the car. “Can you still hear me?”

“I can hear you.”

“Okay, I’m going to read you some passages, but Jamison—don’t repeat this to your dad. Or Simone. Or anyone, really. It’ll probably never make it into any official file. And I think that might be for the best.”

She didn’t like the sound of that, but her curiosity was too great. “Let’s hear it.”

“Cecilia and I visited Haven House plenty, walking the trails and peeking up at the house through the trees. We would stop and visit with her sister and mother, who are buried in the graveyard. Cecilia never remembered much about her mother, but she remembered her sister. She would call her memories of Livy her sunshine memories because thinking of her always filled Cecilia with a sense of peace and happiness. Cecilia would complain how no one ever took care of the tombstones, and part of me wanted to believe the Fairweathers started cleaning up the graveyard after her death because Cecilia had finally come home .”

Since she was lying on her back, the tears welling slid sideways out of the corner of her eyes.

“That was a good way to describe Livy. I have about as many memories of her as I do of my mom, which is next to nothing, but I can remember very clearly the way Livy laughed. It was sweet and comforting, and thinking of it now tickles the edge of my brain.”

He listened as she sniffled. “You’re tired. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, keep reading. I’m fine.”

“Before the day I saw her ghost, I’d made several trips to that graveyard.

The first was right before Christmas, on the anniversary of her death.

Ben and Evie Fairweather were there, talking and placing flowers on the markers.

Cecilia has a nice marker, Mom. It’s pretty and something I would’ve picked for her myself. Maybe they’ll let you see it someday.”

“These journals are written to his mother?” Jamison asked.

“Yeah, book one is almost an open confessional to her with things like, ‘I’m sorry I never bathed the dog when I said I would,’ or ‘Sorry, I always told you I was at Bobby’s when we were actually getting drunk behind the gas station.’”

It struck her how different CeCe and Michael’s lives had been.

Where CeCe hadn’t lived in a world that could be called normal, Michael Sinclair’s life had been the epitome of the word, at least in the beginning.

Will had described Michael’s life as the American dream gone wrong, and she was starting to see why.

“Let me hear more.”

“When I first saw Cecilia’s ghost (and yes, I am saying ghost), I thought I was insane.

And maybe I am. People can call me whatever they want.

I don’t care. It was her. I would know the other half of my soul anywhere.

I was sitting on the bench when she appeared, and the late afternoon sunlight shot through the trees, illuminating her perfectly.

She was wearing her favorite dress and shaking out her hair in that way she always did.

Her body would shimmer and fade in the light, and, Mom, I’m not at all embarrassed to say that I screamed.

It wasn’t manly in any way, shape, or form.

Tell Dad if you want, and hopefully, you guys can have a laugh at my expense after I’m gone. ”

“The recognizing his soul part hurts. I didn’t peg him as a romantic,” she said, trying to break up this melancholy that had come over her suddenly. “But what section do you not want my dad to hear?”

“I’m getting there.”

“Cecilia smiled and said hello, then proceeded to lecture me on taking care of myself and to stop the work Hayes kept arranging. I know what I did was wrong, and I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t believe the people who died weren’t worth killing.

I hope you and Dad can forgive me for the kids.

I hate myself enough, but it’s okay if you hate me a little, too. ”

Liam paused for a second to speak to Holden in the background, then came back on.

“Okay. Where was I? Oh, here we go. I cried while Cecilia yelled at me. She was so beautiful, but so angry. Other ghost people were watching and listening, all urging her to make me understand something, but I couldn’t get exactly what it was.

They stood on graves and weren’t as solid as Cecilia, but I knew they were there.

Some not from our time. Previous generations of Fairweathers, perhaps?

A couple holding hands. Lots of women and children.

One woman had a freckled face and wore a dress with embroidered flowers all over it.

It reminded me of something grandma would sew. ”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Jamison noted sarcastically. “I mean, we’ve always known the forest was a little spooky, but I don’t know that I wanted to hear all those details.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Liam told her. “ Some of the apparitions were more modern. One girl had curly hair. Another was a blonde woman in all white, wearing something glowing green around her neck. I think that was Laura Jean Fairweather.”

A full-body chill rolled over Jamison.

“Laura Jean Fairweather?” she whispered. “No one has ever referred to my mother that way. And how would he know about the necklace? We kept that out of the media. We didn’t want any more Zanmi members trying to steal it after Toby used it to freak us out.”

“Sinclair probably saw a picture of it—”

“No. I had Rowan scrub every trace of it. I didn’t tell you, but he wiped it from the police reports, too.”

Liam made a soft tsk noise. “I’m so ashamed.”

“No, you’re not. Now keep reading!”

“Some ghosts stood by the fence looking out over Shepherd’s Bayou.

They felt more like shadows, with anger and hate radiating off them.

Cecilia begged me to let go of my rage, or my fate would be the same.

I’m sorry to say, that’s when I lost it.

She was dead and had come back to do what?

Lecture me? She was the one who gave up on us.

She gave up on me over an argument. I told her as much.

She cried. I didn’t know ghosts could cry.

But I told her I should have put Toby down long ago.

It would have saved lives, including her own. ”

“In all fairness, Michael’s not wrong.”

Liam snickered in her ear. “ And Cecilia agreed with me and apologized. I hated when she did that. She always apologized for other people’s bad behavior, and it was just one more symptom of the abuse she suffered for years.

But when it came to Toby, it made me sick to think that she felt even the tiniest bit of responsibility for his actions. ”

Jamison was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you think my mom's mother and brother ever met Taylor?”