Author's Note: Whoo, I actually got to post today! Merry Christmas! :D
Also: "I am your father." :P
Chapter 6
Laila stared at her. "His wife? You mean he's keeping—" She turned away, her cheeks hot. And she was related to this man? "What kind of—"
"How could he." Allison stood, slowly, her face flushed and her eyes flaming. "How could he—" She stumbled a little and caught herself against the wall, staring hard at the next bed. "Mrs. Cartwright—"
Laila started at the name, staring. The woman who lay in the next bed was in her seventies, her hair white as snow, her face creased with time. "Mrs.—Cartwright? This is—"
"She disappeared five years ago," Allison breathed. "We all thought—she was presumed dead—and—my brother. We have to—" She looked around, her fingers gripping the rough-hewn housebeam. "We have to call the police." Her voice was low. "We have to—I know all of them. All these people. I knew them—Ellie Layton." Her hand flew to her mouth and she half-ran half-stumbled to the bedside of a young woman, about the same age as her, with bright red hair that stood out strikingly against her pale face. "Ellie—she was engaged." Her voice caught. "She disappeared. Went to get something from a storage place down by Falling Star Lane. And—"
Laila's eyes flew open wide and she stared at Allison. "Did—did you say Falling Star Lane?"
Allison turned back, one hand still resting on the young woman's arm. "Yes? I—oh. Oh. Falling Star Lane—"
Laila nodded. "Rumors. Rumors about people missing hours, days. About stars that eat people. Crazy stories. But—" She looked around, her gaze returning to Allison. "Do you know where all these people—where they were last seen?"
Allison stared at her, her face pale in the dim light of the attic. "Mrs. Cartwright." Her voice was soft. "There was an investigation. Mr. Cartwright said—oh. Oh." She sucked in a sharp breath. "He said they went for a drive down Falling Star Lane—and Mr. Edwards. He had just bought a house in that area, was going to fix it up and sell it—no. No. That's impossible. That's—"
"It's crazy." Laila stared at her, and her voice was almost a whisper. "All that stuff about Falling Star Lane, it was all just silly childhood superstitions, right? I thought so too, until—Allison." Her voice stopped Allison with one foot on the ladder. "I—I have to tell you something."
Allison looked up, and Laila paused, bunching her skirt in her hands. How did she say this? How did she tell the woman who stood before her—who was currently a few years older than her—that she was her great-aunt? That she had stepped out of the past?
"You might want to get to the ground floor first." She attempted to infuse her words with a little humor, and failed somewhat. "I don't want you falling off and hitting your head."
Allison scrambled down the ladder, and Laila followed her. "Allison, I—" She stepped off of the last rung and just stood there for a moment, her heart hammering in her ears. There was no good way to say it. There was no way….her eyes scanned the room, looking for something to latch onto, something she could use—
Her gaze fell on a little box in the corner. Almost unconsciously, Allison's gaze followed hers.
"Oh!" Allison rushed over and picked up the little box. "Old family stuff. Pictures and letters and stuff like that. He had promised me—he wasn't interested—" A picture fluttered to the ground, and Laila leaned down to pick it up.
Her breath stopped in her throat.
The picture was old, yellowed and faded. But she remembered that picture. She remembered taking that picture.
It had been taken just a few months ago. Just before Rob had enlisted.
Just after they had gotten engaged.
Rob stood with his arm around her shoulders, and they were both grinning—and looking slightly shy. She felt a little smile tugging at her lips. Yes—there it was. If she looked close enough, she could see the ring on her finger. She had tried very hard to make certain the ring had ended up in the picture.
Rob….
Died 1945…..
She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening around the picture. "Rob…."
She looked up to see Allison staring at her.
"No." She shook her head. "No—no. I'm going crazy. That's not—that's crazy. That's impossible. I'm dreaming. I'm—" She reached forward and snatched the picture from Laila's hands before she could stop her, staring hard at it.
"You're not." Laila took the picture back, quickly, and held it up next to her face. "It's me, Allison. This picture is me. I am your great-aunt Laila."
Allison went pale and steadied herself against the doorframe. She shook her head dully, staring at Laila, then the picture, then at Laila again. For an instant, fear flickered through her eyes. "No….no." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Laila? Great aunt Laila…."
And in that moment, Laila knew what that odd, nagging feeling had been. What had been tugging at the back of her mind since she had first met Allison—
She was the ghost.
She was the ghost Laila had seen on Falling Star Lane. The one who had called for her, so frightened.
Her hand flew to her mouth and the picture fluttered to the ground. "Allison…." Her voice was strangled. "Allison…."
Allison shook her head. "You can't be. That's impossible. You can't…." Numbly, she reached down and picked up the picture, clutching it between her fingers. "It's you. It's you...that's why I recognized….the graveyard…."
Laila stood, still frozen. "We've got to find the Doctor," she said. "He can fix…"
"Fix?" Allison stared at her, sudden realization dawning across her face and turning to a wild grin. "No—no! There isn't a thing about this that needs to be fixed! You're my great aunt Laila and this is—" She laughed a slightly silly laugh. "This is amazing. I don't know how it's possible—I don't know—but—no wonder you always looked at me like that, when I was a kid. No wonder…."
Laila shook her head numbly, pushing past Allison and starting out the door, into the hallway. "No. No. That's not it. Allison." She grabbed Allison's hand and tugged her down the hallway. "Allison. We've got to find the Doctor. Now."