Past Midnight. Mara Purnhagen

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СКАЧАТЬ I really believe I had the power to make dogs sick? Was I mental? Normal people didn’t think that way.

      I sat on my bed listening to the muffled voices coming from downstairs. It was my goal to get through the entire school year as someone who passed for normal. Ordinary, even. Making friends with Avery was a good start, I thought. If I could keep my parents from appearing on local TV and made sure they kept their big “Doubt” van hidden in the garage as much as possible, I might be okay. On the outside, at least. And wasn’t that what mattered? You could have all the crazy thoughts you wanted, as long as you smiled and kept them to yourself. People saw only what you allowed them to see, and I planned on showing them Charlotte Silver, a regular, everyday kind of girl.

      I hoped that this time, I could pull it off.

      four

      Annalise called me the day before school began to check in and wish me luck.

      “Have you unpacked everything yet?” she asked.

      I looked around my room. Half the boxes were empty, but I hadn’t taken them downstairs yet. “Almost.”

      She laughed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

      I told her all about Avery but left out Dante, whose condition had improved almost overnight.

      “The vet said it must have been something he ate,” Avery explained the day after we’d had pizza. “He’s still sick, but he’s much better than he was last night.” She frowned. “I don’t know what he could have eaten, though. He’s too little to jump up on the counter or get into the trash.”

      I felt relieved—and more than a little silly that I’d ever thought Dante’s sudden illness had anything to do with me. Random breezes and cold spots were just that—random.

      “How’s Charleston?” I asked Annalise. “More important, how are you?”

      “I’m really good, actually. Don’t take this the wrong way, but ever since you guys left, I’ve felt a hundred times better, as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.” She grew quiet. “That awful feeling I had? It just kind of faded.”

      “I’m glad,” I said, trying to stifle a yawn.

      “Am I boring you?” Annalise joked.

      “No. I guess I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.”

      “I’ll let you go, then. Rest up, Charlotte. And have a great first day.”

      After we hung up, I yawned again and glanced at the clock. It was only seven, which was way too early to go to bed, even if I was tired. I hadn’t been staying up late, and I usually slept in until nine or ten, but I was still exhausted. I had been dreaming a lot lately, something that was rare for me. I couldn’t remember the dreams when I woke up—they seemed to slip away from me like sand sifting through my fingers—but more than once I saw the same dark-haired girl reading by an old tree. I awoke feeling as if I’d just visited Charleston, and the sense that I was now in the wrong place would linger for hours afterward.

      Looking around my room, I decided it was time to clear out some of the mess. I scooped up piles of dirty clothes, dropped them into empty boxes and carried one box at a time downstairs, emptying the clothes into the laundry room and flattening the boxes before stacking them in the recycling bin. On my third trip, I stopped to see what my parents were doing. They were in the living room with Shane, and the three of them had earphones on, which meant they were listening to EVPs.

      “I’ve got something,” Dad said loudly. Mom and Shane removed their headphones.

      “From the Courtyard Café?” Shane asked.

      “It’s near the end.” Dad clicked on his computer. The screen showed a voice-analysis screen, which allowed the user to see voice patterns and static. I walked into the room, curious to hear what they’d found. Mom turned around and saw me.

      “Hi, Charlotte.” Her voice was a little too loud, like she wanted to make sure Dad and Shane knew I was there. They stopped what they were doing and turned around, as well.

      “What’d you find?” I asked. “Can I listen to it?”

      Mom and Dad exchanged a glance, and Dad cleared his throat. “Of course you can,” he said. “Just not yet. Let’s wait until we have everything compiled. Then you can hear it all at once.”

      It was not the response I had been expecting. Normally my parents were more than eager to share their findings with me and to get my input. EVPs were usually just a few words, and sometimes they were so soft you could barely make out what, if anything, was being said. Our parents often asked Annalise and me to listen to recordings and give them our first impression. Most of the time, it was just a garble of noise, and our parents would try to prove that another source, such as radio interference, was causing it. Once in a while, though, they recorded a clear word, such as “help” or “hello.” When this happened, they tended to guard it carefully, eliminating any possible explanation of its cause before presenting it to someone outside of the team.

      Which was what they were doing now, I realized. When had I been demoted from “vital member of the team” to suspicious outsider?

      “Fine. Well, I’m going to bed early, I guess. School tomorrow.”

      “Good luck!” Shane said happily.

      “I’ll get you up early,” Mom said. “We can have breakfast together.”

      “Sure. Okay, then. I’m going upstairs.”

      The three of them nodded, still smiling, obviously waiting for me to leave the room before they returned to their findings. I walked slowly, hoping they would get back to work so that I might overhear something. When I reached the doorway, I glanced over my shoulder. They were still watching me.

      “Good night, honey,” Mom said.

      “Sleep tight,” added Dad.

      “Whatever,” I mumbled, retreating up the stairs. I knew they were listening to make sure I went all the way up to my room, so I stomped my feet for their benefit and shut the door to my bedroom with a little more force than necessary.

      I was annoyed with my parents but didn’t have time to dwell on it. Almost immediately after slamming my door, the phone rang.

      “Ready for tomorrow?” It was Avery.

      “Everyone keeps asking me that,” I said, plopping down on the floor. I was pleased that I’d cleared so much out of my room, especially the mini mountains of clothes. I now felt more organized. Or, at the very least, not like a complete slob.

      “I’m picking you up at seven-thirty sharp,” Avery reminded me, emphasizing the word sharp. “What are you wearing?”

      We had made a trip to the mall a few days earlier to shop for back-to-school clothes, which was fun because Avery had a talent for finding stuff that looked great on me without being pushy about it.

      “I was planning on wearing those dark pencil jeans and that blue tank top you picked out.”

      “Perfect. I’m wearing my green shirt with that white denim СКАЧАТЬ