Me too, Kylie thought, unsure if the spirit could read her mind the way the others had.
"So many people want me to tell you something."
"Who?" Realizing she'd whispered the word out loud, she bit her lip. Was it Daniel? Nana? What do they want you to tell me?
The spirit met Kylie's gaze as if she understood. "Someone lives. Someone dies."
More puzzles, Kylie thought, and looked away from the ghost. She saw Holiday glance around, sensing the spirit. Mrs. Brighten looked at the ceiling as if searching for an AC vent to blame for the chill. Luckily the spirit faded, taking the cold with her.
Pushing the ghost from her mind, Kylie looked back at the Brightens. Her gaze took in the mop of thick gray hair on the elderly man. His pale complexion told her that he'd been a redhead in his younger years.
For some reason, Kylie felt compelled to wiggle her eyebrows and check the couple's brain patterns. It was a little supernatural trick she'd only recently learned, one that mostly allowed supernaturals to recognize one another and humans. Mr. and Mrs. Brighten were human.
Normals and probably decent people. So why did Kylie feel so jittery?
She studied the couple as they studied her. She waited for them to make some declaration of how much she looked like Daniel. But it didn't come.
Instead, Mrs. Brighten said, "We're really excited to meet you."
"Me too," Kylie said. As well as scared to death. She sat in the chair beside Holiday, opposite the Brightens. Reaching under the table, she sought out Holiday's hand and gave it a squeeze. A welcome calm flowed from the camp leader's touch.
"Can you tell me about my father?" Kylie asked.
"Of course." Mrs. Brighten's expression softened. "He was a very charismatic child. Popular. Smart. Outgoing."
Kylie rested her free hand on the table. "Not like me, then." She bit her lip, not meaning to say it out loud.
Mrs. Brighten frowned. "I wouldn't say that. Your camp leader was just telling us how wonderful you are." She reached across the table to rest her warm hand on Kylie's. "I can't believe we have a granddaughter."
There was something about the woman's touch that stirred Kylie's emotions. Not just the heat of the woman's skin-it was the thinness, the slight tremble of the fingers, and the defined bones that time and arthritis had changed. Kylie remembered Nana-remembered how her grandmother's gentle touch had grown more fragile before she died. Without warning, grief swelled in Kylie's chest. Grief for Nana, and maybe even the forewarning of what she would feel for Daniel's parents when their time came. Considering their age, that time would come too soon.
"When did you learn Daniel was your father?" Mrs. Brighten's hand still rested on Kylie's wrist. It felt oddly comforting.
"Just recently," she said through a knot of emotion. "My parents are divorcing and the truth sort of came out." That wasn't altogether a lie.
"A divorce? You poor child."
The old man nodded in agreement, and Kylie noticed his eyes were blue-like her dad's and hers. "We're glad you chose to find us."
"So very glad." Mrs. Brighten's voice trembled. "We've never stopped missing our son. He died so young." A quiet sensation of loss, of shared grief, entered the room.
Kylie bit her tongue to keep from telling them how she'd come to love Daniel herself. From assuring them that he had loved them. So many things she longed to ask them, to tell them, but couldn't.
"We brought pictures," Mrs. Brighten said.
"Of my dad?" Kylie leaned forward.
Mrs. Brighten nodded and shifted in her chair. Moving with old bones, she pulled a brown envelope from her big white old-lady purse. Kylie's heart raced with eagerness to see the pictures of Daniel. Had he looked like her when he was young?
The woman passed the envelope to Kylie, and she opened it as quickly as she could.
Her throat tightened when she saw the first image-a young Daniel, maybe six, without his front teeth. She could remember the images of her own toothless school pictures, and she could swear the resemblance was amazing.
The photos took her through Daniel's life-from when he was a young teen with long hair and frayed jeans to when he was an adult. In the adult photo, he was with a group of people. Kylie's throat tightened even more when she realized who was standing beside him. Her mother.
Her gaze shot up. "That's my mom."
Mrs. Brighten nodded. "Yes, we know."
"You do?" Kylie asked, confused. "I didn't think you ever met her."
"We suspected," Mr. Brighten spoke up. "After we learned about you, we suspected that she might have been the one who was in the picture."
"Oh." Kylie looked back down at the images and wondered how they could have gotten all that from one photo. Not that it matttered. "Can I keep these?"
"Of course you may," Mrs. Brighten said. "I made copies. Daniel would have wanted you to have them."
Yes, he would. Kylie recalled him trying to materialize as if he had something important to tell her. "My mom loved him," Kylie added, recalling her mom's concerns that the Brightens might resent her for not attempting to find them earlier. But they didn't seem to harbor any negative feelings.
"I'm sure she did." Mrs. Brighten leaned in and touched Kylie's hand again. Warmth and genuine emotion flowed from the touch. It almost ... almost felt magical.
A sudden beep of Kylie's phone shattered the fragile silence. She ignored the incoming text, feeling almost mesmerized by Mrs. Brighten's eyes. Then, for reasons Kylie didn't understand, her heart opened up.
Maybe she did want them to love her. Maybe she wanted to love them as well. It didn't matter how little time they had left. Or that they weren't her biological grandparents. They had loved her father and lost him. Just as she had. It only seemed right that they love each other.
Was that what Daniel had wanted to tell her? Kylie glanced down at the photographs one more time and then slipped them back into the envelope, knowing she would spend hours studying them later.
Kylie's phone rang. She moved to shut it off and saw Derek's name on the screen. Her heart missed a beat. Was he calling to apologize for leaving? Did she want him to apologize?
Another phone rang. This time it was Holiday's cell.