Body & Soul полностью

“I wish I could be her for you. I wish this was easier. But I can't, and it's not.” For that matter, I wished I was a better actress and Lily had left behind transcripts of her life for me to read. But that wasn't to be. I was doing the best that I could, and please, God, I needed that to be enough for someone.

“What do you want us to do?” Mrs. Turner asked, almost warily, as if she feared I'd suggest leaving me alone forever or tell her that I was moving out.

I took a deep breath, trying to get the tears under control. “We start over. New memories. No comparing me to who I was before, no forced attempts to get me to remember things. I try to be someone you're not ashamed to call your daughter, and you try to accept me for who I am now.” For as long as it lasted, anyway. Lily wasn't here anymore, but for the moment, I was. I had to be.

Mrs. Turner paled. “I was never ashamed,” she said. “I know this isn't easy for you, either, but we're only trying to help.”

“A fresh start,” I persisted. “Can we do that?” Because even though I understood her pain, if I had to hear one more time about how “I” never did, said, or thought something before, I was going to lose it. Run away screaming, which was not only impractical, it would also probably result in my being locked up somewhere for my own good. I knew she had brochures for a rehab center that specialized in brain injuries and mental trauma — I'd seen them on the kitchen counter.

“We can try,” Mrs. Turner said slowly.

Yes. I let out a small breath of relief. She wasn't completely convinced, but that was okay. I hadn't expected her to be. Any amount of wiggle room, any chance to not feel like a complete screwup would be worth it.

“Is that shopping trip you offered still on the table?” I asked, suddenly filled with a fierce determination and a captivating idea.

Mrs. Turner looked startled, but nodded. “Sure.”

Good. If I was failing at pretending to be the old, badly dressed, poorly accessorized, and seemingly color-blind Lily, well, then, what did I have to lose by ditching her? Being a new Lily — one whose changed interior was reflected by an external shift as well — might make everyone, if not happier, then at least slightly less miserable and confused. Except Will. He'd hate it. But he'd get over it when he saw it was for the best, right?

I held my hands out at my sides. “I'm ready when you are.”

It was so time to ring in the new.

It didn't take the ghost from Malachi's very long to hustle everyone out of my room and the hall, even Evan, who was still sputtering at me in incoherent fury. She just… shooed them like they were nothing more than vaguely annoying pigeons, telling them to come back tomorrow between two and four (even though I had no idea if I would actually be here tomorrow between two and four and felt pretty sure she had no way of knowing that either). Her tone brooked no argument, and her confidence left little room for doubt.

It was almost Alona-esque, actually, and kind of impressive.

Except… it might have been more impressive if I'd done it for myself. Once again, I'd needed someone else to step up and defend me, I realized with a grimace. That idea bothered me more now than it had before, especially with relying on someone other than Alona. It felt like the beginning of a pattern, and I didn't like that.

“So, I heard you're in need of a new spirit guide,” the ghost from Malachi's said, turning her attention back to me, when the last ghost passed through the outside wall. She folded her arms beneath her chest, further amplifying the cleavage peeking out of the unbuttoned top of her white button-down, and gave me a too-bright smile.

“Maybe,” I said cautiously. Getting a new spirit guide would solve several of my problems, but also create a huge new one: Alona would kill me. Though we'd never discussed it, I was fairly certain she would see a new guide as both a replacement and a sign that I was giving up on getting her back in spirit form. Neither one of those things would be good.

“Great,” she said, her Miss America — pageant expression still firmly in place. “My name is Erin, and I'd like to volunteer.”

I fought not to show my surprise. She wanted to be a spirit guide? No one ever wanted to be a spirit guide. It meant giving up a certain amount of freedom and tying yourself to a ghost-talker who might or might not even be able to help you. Alona had done it only under duress. There was definitely something… odd about this girl. Aside from the whole hanging out at Malachi's and the ability to change her appearance so drastically, which was strange enough. If I had to guess, I would have said she was probably rocking some serious power to be able to do that.

Keeping an eye on her, I moved warily away from the door. Standing against it would only allow her to pin me there, blocking my exit, if she so chose. “Why would you want to—”