Authors: Edie Claire
I told him everything I could possibly think of to
tell him.
I even, I'm pretty sure, told him that I loved him.
Then I fell asleep.
I was vaguely aware that my back hurt. But I didn't
particularly care. I knew that I was warm and safe, and that something
fantastic had happened. Both the soul-wrenching sadness and the sickening fear
that had weighed so heavily upon me were gone now—lifted, unshackled, flung to
the winds. I toyed with the idea that I was dreaming, but my heart rejected
that. Repeatedly. The warm, solid hand that I held against my cheek proved it,
and I felt that hand again, for reassurance, every time my wandering, drifting
brain tried to doubt.
He is too real. See? He's right here.
The cycle repeated itself, endlessly, for however
long I dozed. I had no concept of the time. Time had ceased to have any meaning
long ago, high over the waves of the Pacific.
What woke me was the feather touch on my hair.
My eyes opened. I pressed Zane's hand to my cheek
for the three-thousandth time.
Still there. Good
.
I started to drift away again. I felt the sensation
once more. It was as if someone was lightly stroking the top of my head.
I thought about that for a moment. Then I rose from
the mattress with a jerk.
Zane's eyes were wide open. He was looking at me.
"Sorry," he tried to say, his voice
gravelly with disuse. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Hoarse or not, it was the most wonderful sound I'd
ever heard.
"You can go back to sleep," he insisted.
"Don't let me stop you."
"Zane," I whispered, my own voice far from
steady. "You're awake."
He looked at me for a moment, his gaze oddly
studious. I found myself mildly disturbed. Something was… not quite right.
"I've been awake," he answered.
His gaze was piercing; his brow knitted into a
frown.
I felt a sudden bolt of terror.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The terror turned to paralysis. I could see it in
his eyes; had seen it from the beginning.
He didn't remember
.
"Don't get upset," he said with an effort,
trying to effect the same gentle, husky tone that never failed to weaken my
knees. "I'm a little fuzzy in the head, that's all. I'm sure it'll come
back to me. What's your name?"
I wasn't sure that I could speak. A part of me wanted
to break down, right here, right now, pull out every hair from my head, and
scream.
He didn't know me
. I had worried whether he truly cared or not…
now I was no better than a stranger. He had come back—but not to me.
He
didn't know me at all
.
"Kali," I squeaked, my voice nearly as
raspy as his as I mechanically spelled it out for him.
"That’s a beautiful name," he responded,
smiling. "It sounds… Hawaiian."
His words filtered through my anguished brain,
bringing with them a sudden, warm blast of sunshine.
Déjà vu, anyone?
My frozen heart started to beat again. I felt myself
smiling back.
It was all right. Really, it was. He might have a
bit of amnesia, but he was
alive
. Who was I to complain if he had not
come back completely unscathed? He had survived; his physical wounds would
heal. That miracle alone was enough. He was still the same Zane. He would
always be the same Zane.
Whether or not he was mine.
I realized, with sudden embarrassment, that I still
held his hand captive in my own. Flustered, I returned it to his chest and
released him.
To my surprise, he lifted it—albeit unsteadily—to my
face, and brushed a stray shock of curls over my shoulder.
Bittersweet memory threatened to crush me.
He could do it, now. He had tried so many times—
"I'm sorry, Kali," he said slowly,
arduously, turning the full force of his liquid eyes onto mine. "You do
seem familiar. I just don't remember why."
"It's okay," I said immediately, my hopes
brightening a bit.
"Why can't you swim?" he asked.
I blinked at him stupidly.
"Before you fell asleep," he explained,
his voice still a croak. "You said I promised to teach you. Why didn't you
ever learn?"
I put a hand to my mouth, stifling the half laugh,
half cry that erupted from inside me.
He was the same Zane.
The same.
"You heard all that?" I stammered,
disbelieving. "But I went on forever… and you didn't even know who I
was!"
He grinned at me. "I had no idea what you were
talking about, true," he interrupted. "But it sounded like fun."
In the depths of his eyes, I saw the twinkle. That
same, indefinable spark of life-loving, carefree good nature that had made me
love a dead guy so much it hurt.
With an effort, he collected both my hands into his
own. He held them, somewhat awkwardly, as his green eyes looked questioningly
into mine.
"Do-over?"
***
Wraith
is my first YA
novel. If enough people enjoy it, I would love to follow it up with a sequel,
so if you'd like to see another, please recommend it to your friends! I'd also
love to have you visit my Wraith
Facebook
page, where you
can check out my pics of Kali's Oahu and tell me what you'd like to see happen
in the next book!
In the meantime, you might
also enjoy my classic romantic suspense novels:
Long Time
Coming
(also a ghost story, about a girl who dies in a tragic car
accident shortly after her senior prom),
Meant To Be
(about an adoptee rediscovering memories of her lost childhood), and
Borrowed Time
(wherein a
woman is haunted by memories of what she did one horrific night when she was
seventeen). If you like your mystery with a touch of humor, check out the Leigh
Koslow mystery series:
Never
Buried
,
Never Sorry
,
Never Preach Past Noon
,
Never
Kissed Goodnight
, and
Never Tease a Siamese
.
To find out more about my
books, including my comedic stage plays for youth and adults, please visit my
author
website
or send me an
email
. Thanks so much for reading!