Chapter One
Cora
Already I could hear Mom, Everly Gordan, puttering around in the kitchen when I walked down the stairs in our new house. We’d moved to Badlands Territory hoping for a new start. Again. Though the name could put a lot of people off, for me, it was another incentive to move here. I prayed a certain someone would steer clear of the place because of its ominous name.
“Morning,” I called, rubbing at my eyes as I stepped into the kitchen.
Mom smiled over her shoulder. “Morning, Cora. I made you breakfast.” She waved a hand to a plate of what looked like burnt biscuits on the table.
“Ah, thanks, but I think I’ll just have some cereal.” Mom wasn’t the best cook. The only good things she made were cakes, brownies, and cookies. However, most of those contained pot. She’d only started doing that when her mother, my grammy, died, which was just before my father passed away. Mom swore the pot helped her with her gift of seeing the dead. A “gift” I wouldn’t receive until Mom passed on—though, I wasn’t sure I wanted ghosts turning up at all times of the day and night, even when on the toilet or in the shower.
It wasn’t hard to believe Mom had inherited the sight after Grammy passed on, since my grammy had made sure I was aware of her power. It didn’t help me make friends, though, since everyone thought our family was crazy. Before we took to running, Mom used to use her powers to perform seances and speak to the loved ones of those who had lost someone dear. Now, when the ghosts found their way to Mom, she helped in any way she could to get them to move on to heaven; and yes, some landed in hell. It was only on a few occasions when there was a stubborn spirit, who was close to turning harmful, that I helped Mom perform an exorcism. Thankfully, it hadn’t been for a long time. We presumed it had to do with Dad still being around to protect us.
Moving up behind Mom, I gave her a quick hug and said, “Thanks anyway.”
“You’re welcome. Though, your father says he wouldn’t eat it either if he were alive.”
Dad.
He was still hanging around after passing, unlike Grammy, who’d told Mom she was off to heaven to see if Grandad was ready to put out.
Smiling, I added, “Good morning, Dad.”
Mom snorted. “He said good morning and that you look like shit.”
“Gosh, thanks, Dad.”
She looked to the side and nodded, obviously listening to something Dad was saying. “He wants to know if you’re sure about this place?”
I shrugged. “All I can do is hope so.” I caught Mom’s gaze. “Or else my promise to you that this was the last place we moved to is useless.”
She winked. “I have a good feeling about it here. Never has your father’s form been so clear to me than it is since moving.” She glanced back at Dad and sighed. “Yes, Mike, we know you would kick his ass if you could.”
Guilt twisted my insides.
If only I’d seen Sean for what he was. A psycho.
Just before my father died, I’d met Sean through an acquaintance we’d both had. We hit it off and got to know one another gradually. When I lost Dad, Sean had been there at my side. He’d been supportive and understanding… until he wasn’t.
A month later, he’d had enough of my mourning. We’d been at my apartment packing my things, since I was going to move back home to help Mom out. Sean started ranting at me about how I never thought of him, and he didn’t want me back with my “crazy” mother since my free time was his alone.
The fog lifted, and I saw the real Sean for the first time.
That was when I ended it, using a few choice words to tell him what I thought. The short version being I told him he was selfish, controlling, and a bastard who I never wanted to see again.
He didn’t like that. Not at all. Which was how I ended up in the hospital with a concussion, scrapes, and bruises. I filed for a restraining order, but it only took him another month to show again.
He scared me senseless.
He left dead flowers and rodents on our front porch. He’d drop notes in our mailbox. Each time, he would make sure to take out the security camera so we could never prove it was him.
In the