Page 40 of Dark Shadows
Catherine shook away the anger and pasted back on a smile, a smile that Savanah had seen her use often. “Yes. Savanah's father once investigated a case involving a similar mark,” Catherine said. “He thought it meant nothing. Just local kids trying to scare each other.”
“Any idea who those kids were?” Mason asked.
“Unfortunately, no.”
Mason leaned forward, his interest visibly piqued. His fingers brushed against Savanah's wrist beneath the table, a subtle gesture of support that sent warmth spreading up her arm.
Out of the corner of her eye, Savanah saw the familiar figure of old Mrs. Patterson, who had lived next door when Savanah was young. The ghost hovered near the kitchen doorway, her translucent form wavering in the evening light.
Catherine glanced in the same direction and offered a sad smile before the ghost faded away.
Savanah froze; her fork suspended midway to her mouth. Her heartbeat quickened as the realization crashed over her. A faint chill passed over her arm, like an invisible thread brushing against her skin. It was the kind of feeling she used to get just before a spirit made contact. But this time, they remained silent.
“Mom?” Savanah's voice quavered, barely above a whisper. “You see them too, do you not?”
The world seemed to still around them. Years of therapy sessions, of being told she was delusional, of questioning her own sanity… All while her mother had carried the same secret.
Catherine's eyes filled with tears. “I never wanted that burden for you. Any of it.” She reached across the table, squeezing Savanah's hand with desperate intensity. “But you always possessed more strength than me. You faced what I couldn’t.”
“The spirits?” Savanah asked, her voice thick with emotion. Her childhood replayed in her mind. The loneliness, the fear, the confusion. All of it unnecessary, if only her mother had shared this truth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Your dad made me promise to keep silent. When we first married, his coworkers gave him pure hell the one time I mentioned it. That became one of the reasons we had to move.”
“I’m your family, and you kept it from me, knowing what I was going through.”
“Baby, I did what I thought was right for you and your father.”
“I wouldn’t have judged you. If anything, it would have brought us closer.” Savanah shoved out of her chair. “I’m taking Mason to see my treehouse.”
Catherine grabbed Savanah's hand and squeezed. “I planned to tell you, but you left.”
Everything always returned to Savanah leaving.
Savanah slipped her hand free. “All those years and you said nothing. Not even when I was scared to death after seeing my first ghost, or confused about why no one else could see them. You saw them all, though, didn’t you?”
“Vannah, I was trying to protect you.”
Savanah pressed her lips tightly together. If she opened her mouth again, she might say something she’d later regret, so instead she led Mason out the back door.
The air cooled around them as crickets began their evening chorus.
The old oak stood at the edge of the property with the treehouse nestled among its branches. The ladder creaked under their weight but held firm.
“Watch your head,” Savanah warned as they climbed inside.
Mason whistled softly. “Your dad built this?”
“Yeah.” She settled against one wall, remembering endless summer days spent here with Tina and Wesley, reading comics and trading secrets. “It served as my sanctuary.”
“From the ghosts?”
“From everything.” She smiled. “Tina and I used to sneak up here at night and tell ghost stories. Wesley would try to scare us by making weird noises outside.”
“I wouldn’t think children who could see ghosts would tell ghost stories.”
“Of course we do. We tell the best. We already know what scares the dickens out of us.”
“I bet you told some doozies and enjoyed it.”
