Chapter 25

Charlotte

The next morning, I ate breakfast with my family. They were calmer and more loving than usual, and it only made everything worse.

I did not need to be treated any differently. I did not need sympathy or support.

I finished my breakfast quickly and went upstairs to brush my teeth, while my family remained in the kitchen. I glanced downstairs, to double check that they stayed there, before I ran to my parents’ room.

Once I was inside, I searched through my mother’s cupboards, drawers, and closet. I was about to give up when I thought about the bathroom.

I opened the cupboard and found my pills. I stuck the two containers into my handbag and left the room as if I had never been there.

I wanted to take the pills to Grandma May so that I could show her exactly what medication Dr. Nick had prescribed for me.

I made my way to my car without greeting anyone. Instead of driving to school, I went to my grandmother. For once, I did not turn up the music. I enjoyed the silence because it gave me time to think.

I parked in Grandma May’s driveway, and the trees here had few leaves clinging to them. I wore my boots and winter coat.

When I climbed out of the car, the cold kissed my cheeks. I headed to the door and knocked several times before Grandma May finally heard me and opened.

“Charlotte!” she exclaimed. “Come in! It’s so nice to see you! Your coat looks wonderful!”

I entered the house where a warm fire was burning and the kitchen smelled like fresh muffins.

“Can I make you some tea?”

“That would be lovely,” I said.

I went with Grandma May into the kitchen and helped myself to a chocolate chip muffin.

Grandma May only made one cup of tea, and I assumed hers was already on the coffee table by the television. It was most likely cold.

“You are in a good mood,” I pointed out.

“I’m always happy when you visit me,” Grandma May told me.

“You are in an extra good mood,” I rephrased.

“Well, you won’t guess what happened . . . ”

“What happened?”

“Abigail called me!” Grandma May exclaimed. “Can you believe it? Out of the blue she called me! I thought it was a one-time thing, but then she called me again today. I just got off the phone.”

“That’s amazing!” I said, although I knew Abigail had called her because I was there when it happened.

“It is fabulous!” Grandma May added an extra spoonful of sugar in the tea. “She drove all this way to pick me up.

“I spent the weekend at her house. I met both of my beautiful grandchildren. Little Hanna is the sweetest girl who loves her dolls, and Emma hardly ever cries!”

“Wow,” I said. “Meeting them is a big deal!”

“I wish she had told me in advance. I would have loved to knit scarves for both of them.”

“I’m sure you will see them again soon,” I said.

“I believe I will,” she said. “Abigail said I could spend as much time with them as I want, as long as I don’t scare them with ghost stories.”

I carried my teacup, and the two of us headed to the couch and sat down. The couch was full of blankets and pillows, and it looked as if a teenager lived in the house who invited her friends for a sleepover every night.

“You look sad and tired,” Grandma May pointed out. “Is it the sleepwalking? Abigail mentioned that she found you sleepwalking when you visited them. Did you know that your mother was also a sleepwalker?”

“Until recently I did not,” I said, “and I don’t sleepwalk, either. That night I saw a ghost—the Red-eyed Lady again. I followed her down the stairs. I wanted to know what she wants from me.”

“Did you find out?”

“No,” I said. “I’m more confused than ever!”

My grandmother reached for me and touched my arm lovingly. “Eventually she will go away.”

“She’s been here for two months,” I complained.

Then I told my grandmother about our weekend away and the hand that had grabbed me. She listened to every word, observed me through her thick glasses, and nodded to show that she understood.

“Then my parents took me to a psychologist,” I said. I told her grandmother about my therapy session and the things I said.

“My dear, you knew he would not believe you! Why did you tell him the truth?”

“I am not sure,” I confessed. “I feel like I am going crazy. Maybe I do need help. Maybe something is wrong with me.”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Grandma May said firmly.

“Dr. Nick says otherwise,” I mumbled. I reached into my handbag and pulled out the containers of pills. “He prescribed these for me.”

Grandma May reached for the bottles, and I let her take them. She read the label slowly and carefully.

“These are antidepressants and mood stabilizers!” she said. “Please tell me you have not taken any of these pills.”

“I have not—yet.” I explained. “Mum and Dad want me to take them.”

“This will make you sick!” Grandma May got up angrily and went to the bathroom, having taken the pills with her.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I am getting rid of these!” she cried. She twisted the bottles open and emptied the contents into the toilet.

“Grandma! Those are expensive!”

“You don’t need them,” she said, and flushed the toilet. Grandma May returned to her seat.

I gaped at her. “Mom is going to kill me.”

“You can tell her I did it,” Grandma May said. “It was the wise thing to do.”

I looked down, feeling weak, embarrassed, and tired. “Are you sure the pills can’t help me?”

“They can’t make you not see the ghosts,” Grandma May said. “No pill can do that.”

I sighed and sat in silence for a while. “When did you see a ghost for the first time?”

“My mother died when I was very young,” Grandma May said. “I lived with my grandmother and grandpa. My grandmother said that she could see ghosts—but no one believed her. Not even me.

“She was scared of them, and her fear got the best of her. She started looking for a solution in the bottom of a bottle.”

“She tried to drink the ghosts away . . . ” I said.

Grandma May nodded. “Eventually, the drinking killed her.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said.

“I was the one who found her and called my grandfather. I attended her funeral with him by my side.

“On the night of the funeral, I woke up. She was standing by my bed and complaining about the state my room was in. She had no idea she was dead.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“For a long time, I hid from her, but she always found me. I cried and begged and wished for her to go away. Then one day I talked to her. I told her that she was dead and that it was time to move on.”

“Was it sad to let her go?”

“She did not belong here anymore.”

Grandma May hardly ever spoke about her childhood. Until now, the only thing that I knew was that she had grown up poor and motherless.

She was a strong woman who had made it through all of her hard times. I admired her for it.

“There is something you are still not telling me,” Grandma May said. “Why is the Red-eyed Lady haunting you? What happened?”

I took a deep breath. “She wants revenge on me.”

“Why?”

I braced myself. I had kept this secret too long. It was like a living thing trapped in a closet, and it was tearing up the inside—my insides—trying to get out. “Because I saw her get murdered.”

Grandma May’s face turned ghostly white. She was about to say something when the front door swung open. Both of us turned to see what was happening.

The person in the doorway was scarier than the Red-eyed Lady. It was Andrea.

“Mom . . .” I said.

“Your school called me to say that you were skipping again.” Andrea was furious. “Now I know why.” She glared at her mother.

Grandma May did not look intimidated. She leaned back on her couch. “Make yourself some tea, Andrea. Then sit down so we can talk.”

“I don’t want tea, and I don’t want to sit,” she growled, and stalked over to the couch.

“You don’t want to listen to me either. That’s why I am here,” I said.

Andrea turned to May. “Do you realize that Charlotte needs help?”

“I’m aware that your idea of help is giving her pills.”

“She needs to take those pills.”

“That’s going to be hard considering I flushed them down the toilet.”

Andrea’s jaw dropped, and I chuckled. Grandma May stared into my mother’s eyes. She was not going to back down.

“You will have to replace them.”

“I will do no such thing,” Grandma May laughed. “Now sit down. We need to talk.”

“I’m taking my daughter, and we are going home.”

“I’m not coming with you,” I said.

“Charlotte, listen to me . . . ”

“But you don’t listen to me,” I complained.

“If you don’t come—”

“Then what? You will ground me?” I said. “Go ahead.”

“It’s hard to try and discipline the ‘you’ out of your child,” Grandma May said. May, Andrea, and I were very stubborn women.

“What would you know of discipline?” Andrea snapped.

“I can’t take all of this fighting anymore!” I cried.

I got to my feet and pushed past my mother. Andrea grabbed my arm, but I broke free and headed for the door. Andrea wanted to follow me, but I spun around.

“No! Stay here and work your relationship out with Grandma. If Abigail can do it, then so can you!”

I slammed the door and headed straight for my car. Once I climbed in, I slammed that door as well. Then I started driving toward Dimitri’s house. I needed to see him. I needed to talk to him. He was my escape.

I stepped on the gas, reached his house, then drove past it and parked in the guest parking lot close to their estate’s pool.

I climbed out and went to the door and knocked on it desperately. Then I rang the doorbell and wondered if anyone was home.

“I’m coming!” a male voice said.

It was too deep to be Ethan’s, and it was not Dimitri. The only other man living in the house was Dimitri’s stepfather, George Coleman.

The door swung open. I met George’s eyes and dropped my handbag in shock. I would recognize this man anywhere.

He was tall and had gray-streaked black hair. He had a stubble beard, a big nose, and perfect teeth. His cheekbones were sharp, and he had a cleft chin.

Dimitri’s stepfather was the man who had murdered Mia Brooks.