Chapter Forty
Slowly, my eyes flutter open to the sunlight streaming through the window, brightening the room. I stretch, allowing my body to awaken fully, and wince at the lingering aches coursing through me. Turning my head toward Zeke, I see he is already awake, sitting up against the headboard, watching my every move with a faint smile on his handsome face. He looks tired, as if he stayed up all night guarding me while I slept.
"Morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?' He asks softly as he brushes a thumb across my face.
"Like I got hit by a psychic freight train," I reply, sitting up next to him.
"Then are you doing better than last night?" He says as a knock on the door startles us. Sharon peeks her head in and smiles widely at us.
"I have coffee," she says in a singsong voice, holding two coffee mugs. The scent of the coffee wafts through the room, making me sit up straighter and reach towards her, taking it from her hands. "Breakfast is almost ready, and the guys are already at the table," she says.
"Already?" I questioned, rubbing my eyes.
Sharon nods. "We figured we would let you sleep in a little bit and then talk about a game plan for returning to the house. You guys get dressed, and we will be waiting for you." With that, she shut our door and walked softly back down the hallway.
Zeke grabs my hand, pulling me up off the bed. "Let's go," he says. I quickly grab the journal from his nightstand and grab my coffee before we exit the room. I follow quietly behind Zeke into the kitchen. Andy and Donovan are sitting at the table, sipping their morning coffee.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Sit and eat something," Andy says, pulling a chair out for me. I smile and sit, placing the journal in the middle of the table like a silent witness.
I didn't think I was hungry until Zeke set a plate down in front of me. My stomach rumbles quietly. We all dig in, leaving the only sounds in the room as us enjoying our breakfast. We needed fuel for our bodies so we can face whatever comes next. Especially because we have to go back to the house, which conflicts with me. On one hand, I want to go back, no, I need to go back, then on the other hand, I'm scared of what awaits me there. Once the dishes were cleared, I dropped the bombshell on everyone.
"I know I'm not ready, but we need to go back to the house."
"Why?" Andy asked, exasperated.
"She's right because Elias won't stop, and the journal said her gift will grow stronger when she faces entities and places that are tied to her gift awakening," Donovan explains. My hands are trembling at his words.
"You're more ready than you think, kid," Uncle Donovan says, looking at me. "But before we go anywhere," he says, tapping the journal, "you should read the next entry.
I grab the journal from the table and open it to the next entry, and hand it to Zeke. My throat is still painful when I talk. He knows what I'm asking without me having to ask. He takes it from my trembling hands and begins to read.
My Sweet girl,
If you have reached this page, then the gift has already begun to stretch inside you. You may feel it as a pressure behind the eyes, a hum beneath the skin, or a pull in the chest when the veil thins. The gift is not a single ability. It is a triad.: perception, influence, command. You must learn each in order, or the gift will overwhelm you. I have listed below an explanation on how to accomplish them. Learn them and memorize them. Your life depends on it.
The grounding—the foundation of all control in the living world—is your anchor. Without it, the dead may pull you into their grief, rage, or hunger. Select one person whose presence comforts you; they become your tether. Their heartbeat will prevent you from drifting too far into darkness. When the veil lifts, touch them—be it a hand, shoulder, or any warm contact. Feel their pulse, allowing it to remind you that you belong to the living.If your tether is not near, use the earth itself. Bare feet on soil or a hand on a tree. The ground remembers us even when we forget ourselves.Breathe – The doorway between worlds. Your breath is the rhythm the dead respond to. They do not hear your words first – they hear your breathing. Once you are anchored, do these next steps, but remember never open the connection on a panicked breath. Fear widens the doorway quickly, and the wrong spirit can barge through.Inhale slowly to open the connection. This draws the veil thin.Hold the breath for a heartbeat to sense what is reaching through.Exhale with the intention to shape the interaction.Intention – the language of the dead. The dead do not obey commands spoken aloud. They obey emotion, as I said before. If you reach out with fear, they will swarm you. If you reach out with sorrow, they will cling to you. If you reach out with strength, they will listen. Before you open the veil, choose the emotion you wish to project. Hold it in your mind and chest. Let it fill your breath. The dead will feel it before they see you.Influence – the first true test. Once grounded and breathing with intention, you may attempt influence. This is not control – not yet. Influence is the ability to nudge a spirit's state. Practice these gently. Influence is delicate. Too much force will attract the attention of those who feed on power.To calm a spirit, breathe slowly and imagine your heartbeat expanding outward like a warm tide.To repel a spirit, exhale Sharpley and picture a wall of light between you and it.To draw a spirit closer, inhale deeply and imagine opening a door inside your chest.Returning to the source – the place where your gift first stirred will always hold a piece of you. It is both a wound and a teacher. When you return, this place will test you – not harm you, but to reveal what you are capable of.
DO NOT GO ALONE
DO NOT GO AFRAID
DO NOT GO WITHOUT YOUR TETHER
You are the strongest of us, Roxanne. Stronger than I ever was. Stronger than the man/entity who hunts you because he fears what you will become. Stronger than the man who wishes to wield your gift as a weapon. Trust the living. Trust yourself and those around you. And remember, the dead cannot claim what you do not surrender.
The room grows quiet as Zeke finishes reading the entry. He closes the journal softly and slides it towards me. Everyone is lost in thought, trying to understand the weight of my grandmother's words. Sharon is the first to break the silence.
"Okay, let's do this," she says as upbeat as possible. We all looked at her like she had lost her mind, mostly because of her enthusiasm. I knew she was trying to keep everyone positive, but it felt weirdly out of place right now.
As we leave the kitchen, the guys move into the living room and clear a space. They pushed the furniture against the walls. Sharon and I opened the curtains to let the sunshine stream in, creating a soft glow.
I stand barefoot on the rug, the journal open on the armchair behind me. Zeke stands close, ready to be my tether. Donovan was watching with a mixture of fear and awe. Andy and Sharon hovered nearby, both anxious.
"Ok, let's do this," I say with as much bravery as I can muster. Zeke steps up behind me, his presence is already warm and steadying.
"I'm right here, whatever happens, I've got you," he says. I nod and reach back, grabbing his hand.
The. The moment I laced my fingers with Zeke, a warmth spread up my arm – it was slow and steady. His heartbeat pulsed through the connection, strong and rhythmic. I close my eyes as Zeke gently squeezes my hand.
"Stay with me, Rocky," Zeke says. His words steady my world. I inhale slowly, just like Grandma described in the journal. The air felt different – thicker, charged, humming faintly beneath my skin. Holding my breath for a heartbeat, I feel a soft vibration ripple through my chest. Andy tenses, and Sharon reaches for his arm.
"You're doing well," Zeke leans close and whispers. I exhale. The room dims – not physically but perceptually, as if the veil thinned just enough for my senses to brush against it. a faint shimmer flickers around my fingertips. I close my eyes and focus, not on Elias, who stalked me all day yesterday, but on my strength and that of those around me.
I picture Zekes' warmth, my father's protectiveness, Sharon's gentle steadiness, Donovan's loyalty, and my mom and grandparents' love. Strength fills my chest like a rising tide. The shimmer brightens – soft, silver, alive.
"She's doing it... She's really doing it," Donovan whispered. I inhale again. This time, the air vibrates around me. A faint pressure gathers behind my eyes – not painful, but present like someone is standing just beyond the veil, waiting.
"Easy, don't force it," Zeke says as his grip tightens. I exhale with intention. A pulse of energy ripples outward, gentle and controlled, nothing like the violent blast from the night before.
The lights flicker, and a cold draft sweeps through the room, causing Sharon to gasp. Andy steps toward me instinctively, but Donovan raises a hand to stop him.
"Wait, this is her, not him." He says.
I ignored them and kept breathing, steady and calm. A mist starts to form in front of me. Through the mist, I can see my mom. Smiling, waving at me.
"Momma," I choke. Tears start to fill my eyes. Zeke squeezes my hand, reminding me not to lose focus. Andy's head snaps up to where I'm staring. At first, I don't think he can see her until I hear a strained sob escape him.
"Amber, is that you?" She turns to him and smiles sweetly.
"Hello, my love. I'm so glad she found you. Protect her. Protect our daughter. I'm sorry for everything, Andy. I really did love you." She says to him. Then looks at me, "I'm so proud of you, Ro, you are more amazing than I ever knew. Stay strong. I love you." Donovan steps forward, shaking with grief and love.
"Little sister, I'm sorry I didn't find you before you passed." He says as he drops to his knees in grief.
"It's ok, Donnie. You got me out that night and saved both my child and me. You did enough, big brother. Let the guilt go. Find our little siblings. They need us." She said. Then she turned to Zeke, who was standing behind me. "Zeke, take care of our girl. I know she's loved with you." He smiles at her, nodding his head. She then turns to Sharon and smiles gently. "Thank you for loving Andy, and I leave my daughter in your hands. I know you'll love her as much as I do."
Then the connection starts to fade. The cold draft softens, the flickering light around my fingertips steadies, and the pressure behind my eyes eases up. I open my eyes, the shimmering fades, but the control remains. I sway slightly, dizzy and unbalanced. Zeke catches me before I can fall, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Easy," he says, "you're okay."
"I did it. I saw my mom," I say, smiling at him with tears falling down my face. I was happy yet sad over the interaction with the one person I missed more than anything.
"You didn't just do it, Babygirl. Pretty sure you owned it," he says proudly. Donovan was shaking his head in approval.
"Sweetheart, that was incredible," Andy says—his face a mixture of emotions; relief along with sadness.
"I'm sure your grandma would be proud," Sharon says encouragingly.
"I felt them, not just mom, who you saw, but grandma and grandpa too," I explained. "I'm ready," I tell them confidently as I look at the wall. They are my tethers, my family, my protectors.
"If you're sure," Donovan says, "let's go back to the house then."
I shake my head in agreement. This time I'm not walking into the dark unprepared. I'm walking with knowledge and power.