2015
"That was a bad night," Taylor says after a moment of tense silence," I don't like talking about it." She shakes her head, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them as she stares down at the floor. It's clean, just like the other interview rooms she'd seen on the way here, not even a hint of dirt to ruin it. She can see her reflection in the linoleum; it's warped and hard to make out, but it's still there.
"How did that night start," Sidney asks, ignoring the look Nicolás sends his way. The older man isn't happy about any of this, but it's the only way that his daughter will actually open up about what had happened. It was traumatizing to him, so he knows it had to be even worse for a little girl that can't process everything as quickly as an adult. The few times she does drift off are often plagued by nightmares and Nico hates listening to his baby's screams.
"Uncle Matt left us." She sniffles and Nico reaches out a hand to smooth down her hair. "He had to go to work selling things for his company and Daddy was still in LA."
"I'd buried Mon that afternoon," he says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. "There had been a delay due to the preacher being sick and I still had to deal with paperwork." He gives a dry laugh, remembering that day with grim smile. "Turns out owning your own firm isn't as easy as I thought when I graduated college." Things had been so bright back then, he had a good job that would give him experience, he had a wife that was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, and a little girl that would be born any moment, though she appeared three days late all the same.
"It was already dark when Uncle Matt left and Priscilla was confusing, but I couldn't talk to her because Aunt Shel was nearby and she didn't believe me. I think she was in the Nile."
"Denial, Princess."
"That's what I said." He manages a huff of laughter, running a hand through his dark hair while she continues talking. "Aunt Shel spent two days telling me that ghosts aren't real and I must have just tripped going down the stairs. Anyway, she was going to play in the hot tub and said I could go upstairs to snoop through the box that Daddy had sent, so that's what I did." She looks up at Nicolás, her fingers toying with the straps of her shoes. "Edward helped me read part of Mommy's favorite poem and a little after that was when Aunt Shel started to scream."
2014
It takes a few days for Taylor to get used to her cast and not being able to use her left arm for anything, but she manages well enough as she sits in the living room and practices writing. "At least you're not left-handed," Matt comments as he and Shelby come downstairs. He stops beside her and bends down to press a kiss to the top of her head like he always does before he leaves. "And you're doing really great with your E's now."
"I always made good E's," Taylor protests. "You're just jealous that yours aren't as swirly."
"Hey, where'd you get that necklace, Tay?" She grasps it loosely in her right hand and holds it up so she can see it again, smiling at the oval stone surrounded by small circles of gold and pearls.
"The man in the attic gave it to me because I got hurt. He said he didn't like me, but that no kid should be pushed down the stairs by someone bigger than them." Matt and Shelby share a look before both of them kneel in front of her, taking necklace off of her to look at it closer. Taylor thinks it's really pretty and she would've given Edward a hug for it if he hadn't put his hand against her head to stop her in her tracks.
"When was there a man in our house?"
"He's always in our house, you just can't see him like I can." She shrugs, taking the necklace back and giving her uncle a tight hug. "I love you, Mattie."
"I-I love you, too." He presses another kiss to her forehead before standing with his suitcase in hand, watching as she gathers up her papers and crayons. She struggles a little since she can only use one hand, but she manages to get everything together before running up the stairs to Matt and Shelby's bedroom.
Matt will be gone for the next couple days because of his work, so Shelby has Taylor sleeping next to her. Taylor isn't sure why she can't sleep in her own bed, but she thinks it has something to do with her aunt being scared.
She sets her things down on the bedside table before crawling up onto the big bed and wiggling under the covers, her teddy bear held tightly against her chest as she tries to fight sleep for a little while. She wants to say goodnight to Priscilla like she has almost every night since moving in. The little girl isn't very fun to play with inside the house, always disappearing when an adult comes near or the constant exposure to light making her eyes look like black pits, but she brings in flowers and is helping Taylor to make a circlet of them.
Without fail, the sound of small feet on the wooden floor starts up and then Priscilla is standing beside Shelby's side of the bed, head cocked to the right. She isn't happy, she never is, and her blackened lips are drawn down in a frown like she's disappointed about something.
"What's wrong," Taylor whispers, not wanting to get in trouble with her aunt. "Why are you so sad tonight?"
"She's angry with you," the little girls says, her accent thick and hard to understand. "She's going to hurt all of you if you don't leave." Taylor frowns too, bottom lip poking out as she thinks that over. "You have to make them leave, Taylor."
"Or what? She can't hurt my aunt and uncle since she could barely manage to punch me."
"Don't be so stupid, the Blood Moon is almost full and you know what that means!" Taylor opens her mouth to remind the ghost that she doesn't know what it means on account of Priscilla keeping it a secret, but that's when Shelby decides to walk inside. They lock gazes for a moment, Shelby looking more confused than ever while Taylor looks as though she's just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Uh…. Sweet dreams?"
"I'm gonna go take a dip in the hot tub, do you want to come," Aunt Shel asks, deciding not mention Taylor talking to thin air again.
"No, I wanna stay up here."
"Okay, yell if you need me." Taylor nods and turns her gaze back to the dead girl, not surprised to find that she isn't there anymore. "Nico's package arrived this afternoon when you and Matt were taking a nap if you want to go dig through it."
"Where's it at?"
"That upstairs room. I figured we could put up a wall and separate the attic into two rooms so you'll have somewhere to play and your dad will have an office." Taylor isn't entirely sure what her daddy does, but she knows he's gone a lot and he argues with people in his fancy suits. Her mommy always liked it when her daddy dressed up, calling him her handsome man. "How are you feeling, Taylor? With all of these changes, I mean."
"I guess I'm okay." She shrugs, turning in the bed so that her legs dangle over the edge. "I still miss when Mommy would read me those stories, the ones that rhyme."
"So do I, honey." She moves to run her fingers through Taylor's hair, wondering when it had gotten so long. "That book of poetry is in the box your daddy sent, so why don't you go check it out and we'll both change into our jammies when I get back inside?"
"Sounds like a plan." Taylor slides the rest of the way to the floor and sprints out onto the landing, her shoes keeping her from sliding on the hardwood floor as she makes a sharp turn to go up the narrow staircase. She likes the attic room best, it's where half of her toys have ended up since the grumpy ghost is up there every now and again.
Edward isn't the nicest person in the house, but sometimes he'll ruffle her hair or talk about the dresses women in his time had worn. They were like the dresses that Princess's wore when they went to balls, the skirts flaring out as they spun and made up of silks. He likes to talk about those kinds of things and Taylor is certain she can pass an art class with how much he talks about his old paintings.
The room is empty when she finally makes it up the stairs, the box her aunt had told her about sitting right under the window. Taking a moment to look around, Taylor quickly crosses the room and kneels in front of the cardboard box, pulling the flaps open so she can peer inside. There are a few folders inside that Taylor knows is work stuff, a couple of T-shirts that her daddy likes to wear on the weekends, the book of poems, and the little quilt that had been made for Taylor's crib by her great-aunt.
She pulls the quilt and book out before curling up beside the box, using the moonlight pouring inside to make out the note written on the inside cover. The letters are slanted to the right slightly, swirly and pretty the way her daddy always writes. 'Beautiful poems for my beautiful wife,' it reads, Taylor tracing the letters with one of her fingers. Monica used to read it aloud every time they curled up in her bed to read for the night.
"T-thou wast all that to me, love," Taylor attempts to read, some of the words hard to pronounce," for which my soul did pine—" She cuts herself off, staring at the poem in confusion as she tries to figure out what a soul has to do with pine trees. "This guy don't make any sense."
"Perhaps I could be of assistance?" She looks up at the new voice, spotting Edward standing just inside the room. He doesn't look happy, ghosts rarely are, but he doesn't look annoyed either.
"I thought you hated spending time with people."
"Yes, but I couldn't stand hearing you butcher poetry. Scoot over, child." She does, making room for the ghost to settle down beside her and take the book out of her hands. In the moonlight like he is, she can see the bones beneath his skin and the pits of his eyes. "Thou wast that all to me, love, for which my soul did pine—a green isle in the sea, love, a fountain and a shrine, all wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, and all the flowers were mine."
His voice is soft as he continues to read, like he's forgotten she's there altogether and is reading to someone that he cares deeply for. She likes to think he read to the guy he loved, the one that ran away from here to get help from the police and was never allowed to come back.
"Ah, dream too bright to last—!" Both of them look towards the window when shrill screams reach their ears, the sound muffled by distance and the thick panes of glass. "What on earth is that racket?"
"Aunt Shel!" Taylor scrambles to her feet and runs out of the attic without a second thought, managing to get down the stairs and to the front door before an arm wraps around her waist and hauls her up off her feet, their other hand pressing over her mouth to cut off her screams.
"Quiet or they'll terrorize you, too," Edward hisses in her ear, kicking the front door closed. She struggles to get out of his grip, but he's stronger than he looks and has no trouble carrying her into the pantry. He drops her there without preamble, one shoe-clad foot pressing against her chest to keep her down. The heel of it hurts every time she wiggles, but she's stubborn beyond anything else. "They cannot kill anyone just yet. Your aunt will be fine."
"I don't believe you!"
"And I don't care! I'll not have a child killed in my home while I'm around to stop it." She glares up at him, breathing hard and going limp beneath his foot. "There, now was that so bad?" The second his foot leaves her chest, she's up and running again with Edward chasing after her.
"Aunt Shel, Aunt Shel!" She actually makes it outside this time, barreling right into her aunt and sending them both to the ground. Shelby sits up quickly, wrapping Taylor up in her arms and sprinting back in the house, pausing only long enough to make sure the front door is locked before continuing up to her bedroom. "What happened?"
"The hillbillies," Shelby gasps, dropping Taylor on the bed and diving for her cellphone. Her hands are shaking as she dials, but she manages to get the police on the phone all the same, followed by Matt.
The next thirty minutes are spent in tense silence, Shelby holding Taylor close once she'd changed out of her bathing suit. Taylor remains quiet even after the police show up demanding to know what had happened, knowing they'll never believe that it was ghosts and not crazy people that had attacked her aunt. What's the point of telling the truth when nobody believes you?
So Taylor is promptly sent to her room and she stays there until she hears her uncle Matt downstairs. He catches her as she comes running to him, holding her out a little so he can look her over for any bruises or cuts.
"Are you okay," he asks, voice breaking at the end. "Still in one piece?"
"Just scared," she assures him with a nod, wrapping her arms around his neck as he starts up the stairs. "Aunt Shel won't come out of her room and those police guys were really rude." He pauses outside the bedroom, looking to his niece again in concern. "They said she was making stuff up, they said she just wanted attention since I didn't see what happened. I heard her screaming, Uncle Matt, she was scared of something."
"It's alright now, Tay, I'm gonna protect you both." He turns and goes into Taylor's room, gently sitting her down on her bed and removing her shoes and socks. "Right now, I need you to get ready for bed while I go talk to Shelby, alright? I'll be back in few minutes to read you a story. Goodnight, honey."
"Night, Mattie."