Page 28 of Their Little Ghost


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Probably. It’ll give people something to celebrate.

The Harvest Ball is a Stonybridge tradition to welcome fall. The administration is big on formal gatherings. Essentially, it’s an excuse to get dressed up. In the past, Dad only let me attend because he was a chaperone. After my recent escapades, I doubt he’ll let me go this year.

Mia sends a flurry of outfit ideas, drawing me back into a world where deciding what to wear to a dance is the most pressing issue. I text back with my opinions, knowing she’ll look beautiful in whatever she chooses. She always does.

A smash from downstairs interrupts our messaging. I tiptoe and poke my head around my bedroom door, right on time to hear a heavy object bouncing off the wall.

I wince at my father’s angry shout. “You stupid woman! What have I told you about going into my office?”

His office, in the basement, is out of bounds. I’ve only glimpsed inside twice, knowing it’s forbidden. It’s his territory. A land no one can cross into.

“I…” I strain to hear Mom’s timid reply. “I was dusting. I thought you’d appreciate the?—”

“Appreciate?” he fumes. “How many times have I told you not to go through my things?”

“I promise I didn’t touch anything,” she reasons. “I only?—”

I flinch as his hand hits her face and the sound cracks through the house like a thunderclap.

I was six years old when I walked in on him striking her for the first time. Her right cheek was emblazoned with his handprint for hours after. I remember her telling me to stay upstairs and reassuring me that they were only playing a game. Since then, it’s become a pattern. Whenever something doesn’tgo right for him, she takes the brunt of his bad moods and pretends everything is fine the next day. Sarah tried to intervene a few times. She yelled at the top of her lungs for him to stop and threatened to report him. He simply laughed. No one would believe that Magnus Acacia, the esteemed psychiatrist, beats his wife.

“Don’t you understand how stressful the last week has been for me, woman?” he roars. “I’ve worked around the clock to protect our family while criminals have roamed our streets, and this is how you choose to repay me?” He picks up another object and hurls it. “Clean up this mess!”

“Yes, Magnus,” she agrees like she always does.

I wish I were as brave as Sarah. There’s so much I’d like to say—wantto say—but I don’t. Nothing will make a difference, anyway. She’ll never leave him.

Slowly, I shut my door. Although I don’t have three dangerous men to worry about anymore, I can’t help wondering whether they’re any worse than the monster I share my home with.

At breakfast the next morning, Mom overcompensates by preparing a mammoth feast, and my father acts extra appreciative.

“You’ve done a wonderful job with the eggs, Jocelyn,” he praises, squeezing her hand.

Her entire face lights up. I push my plate away, suddenly losing my appetite. Her sole reason for existence is pleasing him, and even though I know she’s a victim, a part of me hates her for it. Maybe if she stood up to him, I wouldn’t be how I am. Maybe Sarah would still be here. Maybe the three of us could have had ahappier life, but she’d choose him over her own daughters every single time.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Mom comments wistfully. “I see the reporters have left town.”

“They’ve moved on to the next big story, I expect,” he says. “They’re fickle. There’s nothing to write about now that everyone is where they belong.” Dad’s eyes narrow at me. “Aren’t you going to eat the food your mother has so lovingly prepared?”

Mom’s pleading gaze meets mine. I play along, spooning grapefruit into my mouth. Sour to match my mood.

“I’ve been reading the latest digest from the academy,” she says. Every week, parents receive a newsletter with updates from Stonybridge. “I see the concert has been rescheduled for the end of the week. Isn’t that wonderful news, honey? You’ve been working so hard.”

“Are you performance ready?” Dad queries.

“Yes,” I reply.

“The Harvest Ball is coming up soon,” Mom says. “Now all the nasty business is wrapped up, everything can finally return to normal again.”

I chew the gooey grapefruit until it turns to slime.

“So it is,” Dad says. “I expect you’ll want to go to the ball, Erin? All students attend.”

“I…” I almost choke. “I didn’t think you’d…”

Dad’s eyes flash a warning, letting me know I should consider what I’m about to say next carefully.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” I say. “With everything else going on, it seems kinda… trivial.”