EPILOGUE

Shadows followed her everywhere. The very few places she was allowed to go, anyway. Jacob was warned not to wander far from the Carpenters’(except to work), either, because Curtis would be checking anywhere and everywhere to find them.

Kevin remained staunch in his refusal to communicate with the police, so Grace remained staunch in her refusal to drop the charges. Jacob wanted to visit him, but it was too risky, because Curtis might see him visiting the jailhouse, and follow Jacob back to the Carpenters’.

They were basically imprisoned, all because of a shadow that continuously slipped through the police’s fingers.

Jacob’s and Grace’s wedding plans had to be placed on hold for now, which was something neither one of them were fond of- in the slightest bit. Every day that passed became more unbearable, and for more reasons than one. Passion was rising along with Grace’s stomach.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The wind howled like a Banshee and beat against the window. The rafters creaked above me. The paper shuffling stilled while I listened. I was glad the blinds were down, because ever since I’d seen… a certain horror movie, I’ve been afraid of ghosts tapping on the window late at night.

Before dating Greg, I had not believed in ghosts. I believed simply what they taught at church and what John and his parents had told me, that dead people either go to Heaven or Hell. Perhaps that is true. Perhaps demons really are in the business of impersonating dead people. I don’t know. I do know that if my mother came back to me in spirit form, I would want to believe that it was her. But, part of me is afraid of what she might say. Perhaps now that she’s dead, she knows more about me than she knew in life.

The wind vanished momentarily, then rattled the house again, on and off, in and out, back and forth, rolling like the sea waves into shore, beating against the sand and retreating. Why does the wind scare me? I have lots of good, windy-day memories.

Good memories rolled into my mind, like white, fluffy clouds pushing away the darker ones; but then I saw them.

Red eyes. Red eyes!! Unleashing a scream, I leaped off of the bed as my heart leaped from my chest. I scrambled into the hallway and lost my balance, sliding on the carpet as I fell, gasping for breath and grasping to regain control of my mind. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. I was seeing things. No, I heard it calling to me!

“Diana!”

What was that? Something grabbed me from behind! The erupting scream chafed my throat and echoed down the hall.

“Diana! Stop! What’s wrong? Tell me!”

The ice blue eyes and handsome face invaded my line of sight when John knelt in front of me, clasping my left arm with one hand and caressing my face with the other. “What happened, Diana?”

My mind now in a whirlwind of confusion as it scurried to sort fact from fiction, I stared into my room with my mouth hanging open. He released me for a moment and waltzed into my bedroom. I watched him peer into the closet, under the bed, out the window. Apparently satisfied that all was in order, he returned to me. By that time, my mind had concluded that my fears had conjured the specter, but my heart was not convinced that this was an accurate conclusion, and it continued to jitter.

“What happened, Diana? Tell me!”

I recognized the authoritative tone in his voice, the same tone he used when he expected a straight answer, and he wanted it pronto! I was glad that, in my delirium, I had not spewed the truth to him, and said, “I thought I heard something.” A lie. I closed my eyes, remembering that I had promised myself that I would not lie to him again.

John looked skeptical, so I continued, “No… I mean... I imagined something. I was getting ready for bed, and I thought I saw something in the closet.” I added a snicker. “The old ‘closet monster’ never went away for me, I guess.” Adding a weak and unconvincing laugh, I shook my head. “Crazy, huh?”

John was not stupid, and he certainly was not easily swayed. Once his suspicious nature took control, I would have to prove to him from every angle that all was fine. And that was not easy. He knew something was wrong with me, even if he didn’t know the depths of my suffering. He knew me. Too well.

Neither one of us went to bed feeling too safe, but I know that is for different reasons. Both of our bedroom doors are open now.

Before, I used to imagine the eyes. But tonight I really did see them! My ordeal is similar to ‘Hamlet’s’. Am I mad? Or am I haunted??

A/N- I know I said that the next book would be mainly about John & Diana, but actually their story will interwine with Jacob's and Grace's.