Love Never Dies by Christina Dodd

Author:Christina Dodd [Christina Dodd]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Virtue Falls, Romance, Mystery, ghost
Publisher: Christina Dodd
Published: 2016-03-28T04:00:00+00:00

Eugene Park

The finale

After I was banished, Areila came through the park every day for two weeks looking for me. When she called, I couldn't respond. I wanted to . . . I wanted to tell her to run.

He was stalking her.

But I had broken the rules, whatever rules there were, and I was imprisoned in that dark corner of the park, mute, invisible, while blood seeped through the soil and smothered me with grief.

Then Areila disappeared. She was gone for over a week, and I was glad.

If only she had stayed away . . .

On a gray day in the late afternoon I heard her making her way across the park toward the corner that led into the woods — the corner where darkness dwells. I wanted to shout at her no! But I wasn't there. Not really. I was nothing more than a scent on the air, a shadow you catch out of the corner of your eye that disappears when you face it. I was merely waiting . . . waiting for another dose of horror and helplessness.

I didn't want it to be her horror.

I could not stand it to be my helplessness.

She left the sidewalk, crunched across old leaves and fallen pine needles to stand at the soft, recently disturbed mound of dirt. The witch hazel was blooming — the shrubs were always the first to vanquish winter — and as she removed her knit cap, the yellow blossoms framed her head. She was young, pretty, unwary — and I was afraid for her. She held a shovel in one hand; she planted it firmly in the dirt. "Frank Vincent Montgomery, I don't know if you can hear me, but I wanted to tell you — I figured out why I can see you. When you gave me your name, you gave me the clue I needed . . . Does the name Sofia mean anything to you?"

Yes! Yes! Sofia is my love! But I couldn't communicate. All the times I had haunted Eugene Park when I wanted to be elsewhere, listened to the crazy people, tried to stop the murders . . . and now, when I desperately longed to be beside the fountain or standing among the grand old cedars, I was not.

"Sofia was my great-grandmother." Areila waited again.

Of course! I should have known. I had compared Areila to Sofia in her spirit and her personality, but hadn't seen the resemblance between them.

Out of nowhere, a thought struck me. Maybe . . . maybe because Areila resembled me.

That one night Sofia and I shared had been brief and in the end, bitter. Foolish man and careless lover that I am, it never occurred to me she would bear my child.

Areila said aloud what I was thinking. "You're my great-grandfather! That's the connection between us. I know it is!"

If I could have cried tears, I would have cried tears of joy — and of fear.

"Before I told you my suspicions, I wanted some proof. So I called my great-aunt Bea.

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