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  "Sorry, did you say something to me?" He spoke so softly that at first I wasn't sure if I had imagined his response.

  I was taken aback by the question. Did he really not hear me at all?

  "I wanted to know if you knew Kristen." I grew bolder with each word. "I saw you at the funeral today and was just wondering how you knew her."

  "You were wondering how I knew Kristen," he repeated, still speaking softly, almost to himself. Then his voice grew louder, and he leaned toward me. "I've seen her… around."

  But I'd never met him before. Was he some type of secret admirer or something? I tried to examine him closer, but he was still hidden by the shadows. His voice sounded older. Maybe he had been a friend of her brother's?

  "Did you know Thomas?"

  "Thomas?" He sounded puzzled. "No, I don't know any Thomas."

  "Kristen's brother?" I prompted, waiting for his reply.

  "No, I didn't know she had a brother." His voice was louder now. Like he was getting closer, but I hadn't seen him move at all. That made me slightly nervous. Here I was alone with a stranger who had come to Kristen's house and down to her basement, yet he didn't really seem to know her, or her family. It was all very strange.

  I covered up my nervousness with a small laugh. "Oh, okay. Well, I'm going to go upstairs to see if they need any help cleaning up." I abandoned my tea at the foot of the rocking chair and stood up, heading for the stairs. I made it up four steps before I realized that the stranger had followed me. I turned.

  He stood at the bottom of the staircase, obscured in darkness. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Abbey. I'm actually here because of you."

  "How do you know my name?" I gripped at the stair railing. My question came out in a squeak. "Who are you? What do you mean you're here because of me?"

  "Don't worry, Abbey. I'm a friend." He leaned forward, placing himself in a pocket of light so that I could see him clearly.

  Shock hit me first. Followed by a feeling of… something else. He was gorgeous. A total hottie.

  I almost laughed at myself for thinking that at a time like this. His hair was the first thing I noticed, up close this time. The pale color was unusual but it had a sharp streak of jet-black that angled across his forehead. His eyebrows were dark too, and he had a very straight nose and full lips. But his eyes were what really struck me. They were such a clear, shocking green that I felt a shiver dance along my spine as he gazed at me. His eyes were stunning. And they looked kind.

  "You're Kristen's best friend, right?" His voice held a soothing, calm quality now, and he looked up at me with such interest that I felt some of my nervousness vanish. "Tell me about her."

  I looked away for a moment, flattered that he was paying me any attention, and then angry at myself that I even cared. My eyes fell on the corner of the room where Kristen and I had spent so much time together, and I started talking about it to distract myself from my turbulent emotions.

  "Do you see that corner over there, by the bookcase?" I leaned over the railing to point, and he nodded. "When we were little, Kristen and I used to come down here on rainy days. Her mom would take a couple of sheets and string them up around the bookcase to make a tent. Then we'd grab some books and a flashlight and go sit inside, and read stories to each other. Her mom always brought us cucumber and peanut butter sandwiches with all the crusts cut off while we were in there."

  I laughed at the memory. "We went through a real cucumber and peanut butter phase. I have no idea why."

  Then I found myself confessing even more. "It was almost like|Kristen had this secret place in her basement that we could go to whenever it rained. I used to call it my magic rain castle, and I thought it was the coolest thing ever." My cheeks reddened from the story and how much I had revealed. "I don't know why I told you that. It's pretty silly, huh?"

  He had an amused look on his face. "I don't think it's silly. Every kid should have a place like that to play in. I wish I would have had one of those. It sounds like fun."

  "Thanks," I said, smiling back at him. "That was a good memory. I needed that." The silence in the stairwell grew, and I became aware of how loud and fast my breathing sounded. I concentrated on regulating it, trying to breathe more normally.

  He spoke quietly, and I had to lean forward to catch his words. "If you ever decide to build your magic rain castle again, Abbey, let me know. I'll have to stop by for a visit."

  My breath caught on those words, and my heart skipped a beat at the implication behind them. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything at all. My mind raced frantically, thinking about all the questions I had for him.

  The jarring ring of my cell phone interrupted us. I glanced down at the screen and grimaced when I saw who it was. "Sorry, but I have to go take this. It's my mom."

  I walked up to the top of the stairs and answered the phone. "Uh, hi, what do you want-I mean, what's up, Mom?" I glanced over my shoulder. I could still see his bright green eyes. He was staring intently at me, so my response to my mother was a bit distracted. "Yeah, um… okay."

  Her voice echoed loudly through the phone, and I looked away. "I'm almost ready too. I was down in the basement… Yes, I know. Of course I'll tell the Maxwells good-bye. I'll see you in five minutes."

  I looked back over my shoulder and mouthed the word "Sony" as I stepped out the basement door. He nodded and disappeared into the shadows below while I headed to the kitchen to find Kristen's mom.

  She was still there, now drying dishes, and I hesitantly crept closer. She appeared calmer, and glanced over her shoulder when she heard me coming. "Abbey, hi." Her voice was soft, and her eyes were slightly reddened, but her smile was encouraging.

  Reaching out for a hug, I remembered belatedly that I had left my cup downstairs in the basement. She didn't say anything while she hugged me back, but I didn't need to hear the words. I knew what she was feeling.

  "Do you want me to stay and help you clean up?" I asked.

  She shook her head. "No, don't worry about it, honey. I'll take care of everything. It'll give me something to do." Her voice broke slightly on the last sentence, but I pretended not to notice. "You'll call us if you need anything, right? Anything at all."

  "Sure, sweetie." She tried to give me a brave smile, but it didn't work. "Tell your parents good-bye for me."

  "Okay," I replied. "I will. Take care of yourself." She nodded, and I squeezed her hand once before I left the kitchen.

  Mom was waiting for me out in the hallway.

  "I'll be right back, and then I'm ready to go," I told her. At a nod of agreement, I turned around and headed back toward the basement. I had one more good-bye to say.

  But when I got down there, he was gone.

  "Hello?" I called out, walking over to the rocking chair to pick up my cup. I felt stupid for not asking him what his name was. I flipped on a nearby switch, and the room was instantly flooded with eight bulbs of sixty-watt fluorescent lighting.

  It only confirmed what I already knew. He wasn't there. I wasn't going to get the chance to say good-bye, or find out his name. I didn't even know if I'd ever see him again.

  Flipping the light switch one more time on my way back out, I paused for a moment in the dark. "Thank you," I whispered over my shoulder to the empty room.

  Chapter Three

  Nightmares and Hallucinations

  They are given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions; and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air.

  "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

  I didn't get very much sleep over the next several days. School was starting in two weeks, but that was the least of my worries. Ever since the day of the funeral I'd been having nightmares. I couldn't remember any of them, but they were always there, at the corner of my mind and on the very edge of my consciousness.

  Then it started getting worse.

  I'd wake up suddenly, my body drenched in sweat, while my eyes frantically searched the da
rkened corners of my room. I usually saw the shape of a person. Like someone was in the room with me.

  If I concentrated, and strained my eyes hard enough, the shape would disappear. I knew it was nothing more than shadows on the wall, but each night, for those brief couple of seconds, my heart pounded in sheer terror.

  More than once I found myself calling out Kristen's name. Asking, pleading, with her to be there. Knowing in my head that she wasn't, but hoping in my heart that somehow she was. I thought I was going crazy.

  After the fourth night in a row of nightmares and hallucinations, I think I really did start to go a little crazy. I struggled to stay up at night, sleeping only when morning came. I didn't feel rested at all, but at least it kept the nightmares at bay.

  Keeping myself occupied all night, though, was a whole different set of problems.

  I tried reading first. I found a book that I hadn't started yet, and it was interesting enough to hold my attention through the first night. But that afternoon I was too tired to go get any new books, and that was a problem when midnight came around again.

  Flipping through some old magazines killed time the second night, but it didn't work quite as well, and I kept nodding off. Morning took a long time to arrive when my body was demanding that I sleep.

  It was the next night that I ended up calling Kristen.

  After checking my e-mail, including every old account I'd ever set up, I had only managed to kill about an hour. There were several new shopping websites to browse, but they didn't really hold my attention either. What I was really missing was Kristen's buddy icon signaling that she was online too. We almost always signed on within minutes of each other. It was strange, not seeing her screen name pop up automatically.

  With a heavy sigh I hit the sign off button and watched as the screen shut down in front of me.

  Spinning slowly back and forth on my chair, I scanned the top of my desk. Several piles of paper were stacked in one corner, and a couple of CDs were propped up by a small jewelry box. My cell phone was plugged into an adapter on the printer stand, blinking a red light at me, signaling that it was fully charged. I picked up the phone and automatically hit the number one to speed-dial Kristen. It wasn't until the voice mail message started playing that I realizedwhat an idiot I was.The sound of her voice was so normal, and familiar, so… real. I had called her cell phone almost every day efore she'd disappeared, and never given it a second thought. Short messages, long messages, funny messages, even angry messages… I had left them all. Such a small, insignificant thing to do, but now I realized how important each one of those messages had really been.

  A loud beep on the other end got my attention. I didn't know if I should say anything. Holding my breath for a second, I paused, and then spoke in a rush of jumbled words and thoughts. "Hi, Kristen, it's me. I don't know… I don't know what to say, or even why I'm doing this. It's not like… This is… stupid… I'm sorry."

  I hung up the phone, feeling frustrated and angry at myself for calling. It wasn't like she was going to call me back. Wherever she was, her cell phone wasn't with her. She'd left it at home with a dead battery the night she disappeared.

  Grabbing a blank piece of paper from my desk, I started doodling. Small pictures, bizarre designs, crazy symbols… anything that came to mind. I scribbled these things over and over again, until I had to grab a fresh sheet. Then I started writing down my thoughts. About everything and about nothing.

  By dawn I had filled eight sheets of paper with random words. It was an exhausting process, but now that it was morning, I fell into a deep sleep.

  I slept through breakfast again, and really felt like skipping lunch, too, but Mom gave me a strange look as I stumbled into the kitchen.

  "Are you feeling okay, Abbey?" she asked, putting a hand to my forehead.

  "Yeah, I'm okay," I admitted, sitting down at the table. "I've had a hard time getting to sleep lately."

  Carrying over two bottles of water, she sat down next to me and slid one over. I stared at my hands resting on the tabletop, not paying attention to anything else. / really should go back to bed. I'm exhausted.

  "Do you think you're not sleeping well because of the funeral?" Mom's sudden question startled me.

  "That probably has something to do with it." The conversation from the funeral home sprang to mind, and I heard those women talking about Kristen again. "Or it could have something to do with the fact that some people in this town don't have any common decency, or good manners."

  She frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that this town is so freakina small, all it takes is one person to start an untrue rumor, and before you know it, it's become the absolute truth." Frustration filled my voice. "You know what I'm talking about, Mom, and you know it's not right. I heard some people saying that Kristen either killed herself or was into drugs. They shouldn't be spreading rumors like that. It's not fair to her family, and it's not fair to her."

  Patting my arm, she put on her sympathetic tone. "I know how you feel, Abbey. But there's not much we can do. People talk. It will die down eventually."

  "You don't understand, and you don't know how I feel," I snapped. "Or you would do something to stop the ones who talk about Kristen behind her back. Use your position on the town council. Do something about them''

  "I can't control what the people in town think, Abigail. You know that." She stood up and walked over to the dishwasher. "Just ignore them; it will all blow over soon."

  I couldn't believe that she was telling me to just ignore them. I was supposed to stand by and let people talk about my friend? No way.

  "Well, / can do something about it, Mom." I felt anger taking over now. I was furious. "I can stand up for my best friend. Even if you're not willing to."

  Stalking out of the kitchen, I left the water behind, and pounded my way upstairs to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut to let her know that I meant what I'd said. She would probably yell at me later for doing that, but I didn't care.

  I only meant to close my eyes for a minute or two when I lay down on my bed, but I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Mom was leaning over me and calling my name.

  Struggling to a sitting position, I yawned loudly and rubbed my eyes. "Tired… just taking a nap… Why did you wake me up?" I mumbled.

  "How would you like to go to that new herb store with me?" she said.

  "The one up by the cabin?" I asked groggily. "But it's an hour away. Do you really want to go there?"

  "Sure, why not?" She shrugged. "I have a couple of papers to drop off at Mayor Archer's house along the way, but other than that, I'm up for it if you are."

  I was too tired to argue about whether or not this was a trip for me, or Mayor Archer, so I let that one go. At least she was trying.

  "Okay." I forced a smile. "Let's go."

  We headed down to the car, and I grabbed some grapes to eat on my way out. Skipping breakfast and lunch so often was finally catching up with me. It didn't take long to finish them off, and I popped the last one into my mouth before climbing into the passenger side and buckling my seat belt.Mom got into the car too and put the key in the ignition but didn't turn it on. I tensed, waiting to see if a lecture on how I should control my anger was coming my way.

  "Abbey…," she started. Clearing her throat once, she tried again. "If you ever need to talk about Kristen… or anything else, well… I wanted to let you know that you can always come to me. If I can't help, we can find you a professional to talk to." Her blue eyes were full of concern, showing the tiny wrinkles around them.

  "Thanks, Mom." I smiled weakly. "I'll let you know if I need something." I must have looked as close to the edge as I felt, if Mom was talking about me seeing a professional.

  My response seemed to satisfy her, and she smiled back at me, looking relieved that her part was over. She started up the car, and we headed toward the Archer residence. Ten minutes later we arrived at their front door and Mom promised she'd be out in five m
inutes. As her door slammed shut, I grabbed a pen and small notebook from the glove box, knowing that I'd be in for a wait. Mom's "five minutes" were usually more like twenty.

  I started making a list of all the things that I hoped to find at this new store, and was completely lost in thought when Mom's door opened again. "Sorry that took so long," she said, climbing into her seat and adjusting the rearview mirror. "I had to go over a couple of things with the mayor."

  "Not a problem," I responded, still occupied with my list. I added tester vials and bergamot oil to the page. I was running low on both of those. We got back on the main road again, and I put the notebook down as soon as I felt myself begin to get sleepy. I knew I wasn't going to last long.

  The sound of a door opening startled me, and I woke up with a jerk. Looking over at Mom, I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I fell asleep. I guess I was still pretty tired."

  "Don't worry about it," she said. "We're here."

  I craned my neck to take everything in as I climbed out of the car.

  A large green metal sign with a glossy finish greeted us, proclaiming the name of the store to be A Thyme and Reason, and I fell in love with it instantly.

  The shop itself looked like it had once lived a past life as a grand old turn-of-the-century house, complete with gingerbread trim, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a gabled roof. The outside was painted in several varying shades of green and magenta that complemented each other wonderfully, and I knew that this was the type of store I wanted to own one day.

  As we stepped inside, I saw that it was even better than I had hoped for.

  Not only did the store have plenty of herbs available, but there were jar and bottle sections, vials and sample kits, and packaging supplies of every kind. They also carried almost every type of perfume oil known to mankind.

  I was in heaven. I could have happily spent weeks here. They had almost everything on my list.

  After browsing for about forty-five minutes, I figured that I was probably treading close to Mom's patience limit, so I started narrowing down my choices. I picked up several sample-size tester vials, a couple of large amber bottles, and a new set of glass droppers.