Humming with sudden happiness, I brushed my teeth, showered and dressed in my winter workout clothes. I dialed his cell, and...went straight to voice mail.

      “I’m awake and ready,” I said. “You can come get me anytime.” I didn’t have a car. Or a license. Only a permit. If I didn’t hear from him soon, I’d walk. The gym was at a barn a few miles away. “I hope you’re prepared to have your butt handed to you.”

      When I hung up, I noticed there were eleven texts waiting for me. All from my best friend, Kat. I grinned as I read.

      One: Frosty SUCKS!

      Two: Have I mentioned Frosty sucks it raw??

      Three: How do U feel about murder? 4 or against?? Before U answer, know that I have good reason!

      Four: If 4, do U know good place 2 hide body??

      The rest described the many ways she’d like to kill him. My favorite involved a bag of Skittles and a silk scarf.

      Mmm. Skittles.

      My stomach rumbled, and I set my phone on the nightstand. I’d call Kat after breakfast, when she was more likely to be awake and I was more likely to be lucid, and find out what happened. There was a good chance Frosty had simply failed to call her after the fight last night, and she’d worried. I wasn’t sure how to comfort her about that. She’d made it clear the zombies weren’t a topic of conversation she welcomed.

      First, though, I cleaned every inch of my room. I refused to let Mr. Ankh’s housekeeper do it for me. I wasn’t a sponge and wasn’t going to take anything for granted. I was determined to give back, somehow. Thankfully, water and hand soap removed the paint from the pillow.

      “Alice.”

      Emma’s voice.

      I turned, and oh, glory, there she was. My eight-year-old sister. Her spirit anyway. What she’d taught me: death is never the end. “You’re here,” I said, my heart soaring. She’d visited me before, but every time felt like the first time—shocking and unreal.

      She smiled at me, and I wanted so badly to hug her close and never let go. “I only have a moment.”

      She wore the clothes she’d died in: a pink leotard and tutu. The dark hair she’d inherited from our mother was pulled into two pigtails, swinging over her delicate shoulders. Golden eyes that had always watched me with adoration were bright.

      She’d once told me she wasn’t a ghost, but a witness. Ghosts—not that they existed—were spirits of the dead that retained their memories and haunted. A myth probably born from zombie sightings. Witnesses were spirits that aided.

      “I wanted to warn you that you’ll be seeing less of me,” she said, the smile slipping. “Visiting you is becoming more difficult. But. If you call for me, I will find a way to reach you.”

      “More difficult how?” I asked, concerned for her.

      “My tie to this world is fading.”

      Oh.

      I knew what that meant. One day I was going to lose her for good.

      “Don’t be sad,” she said. “I hate when you’re sad.”

      I forced my features to brighten. “No matter what, I’ll know you’re out there, watching over me. There’s no reason to be sad.”

      “Exactly.” Beaming, she blew me a kiss. “I love you. And seriously, don’t forget to call for me if you need me.” Then she was gone.

      My features fell and, I was sure, dimmed. I could have curled into a ball and cried, but I refused to let myself worry about any tomorrows without her. I’d deal with her loss when it came.

      Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I headed to the kitchen. I expected to find the housekeeper. Instead I found Reeve, Nana and Kat seated at the table, sipping from steaming mugs of coffee.

      “—something’s going on,” Reeve was saying, twining a lock of dark hair around her finger. “Dad put more security cameras in both the front and backyard—and we already had a thousand to begin with! Worse, he’s put up so many lamps, my blackout curtains are no longer able to do their job.”

      Nana and Kat shifted uncomfortably.

      “Has he said anything to either of you?”

      “Well...” Nana hedged. She moved her gaze through the room, as if hoping a distraction would present itself.

      One did.

      “Ali! You’re out of bed a week early.” Her chair skidded behind her as she stood. She closed the distance between us and drew me in for a hug. “I’m not sure I approve.”

      Kat buffed her nails and smiled, not looking at all like a girl on the verge of committing a violent crime. She did look tired, though. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were hollowed, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “I would have been up two weeks early, but we can’t all have my amazing bounce-back, can we?”

      I kissed Nana’s cheek and returned Kat’s smile. The girl had a healthy (and justifiable) ego and wasn’t afraid to show it. Me? I’d always been the girl with her head ducked as she questioned her worth.

      I’d faced death and won, I reminded myself—I should probably get over that.

      But...just then, I kind of thought Kat was using her ego as a shield to hide her physical weakness. She suffered from degenerative kidney disease.

      “What are you doing here?” I asked her. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you. I so am.” More than thrilled, actually. From the very beginning, she’d never cared what I looked like or how socially awkward I could be. She’d just accepted me and rolled. “I thought you preferred to sleep till two on weekends.”

      “I came to see you, naughty girl that you are. You never answer your phone or respond to my mind-blowing texts anymore. My plan was to lecture you until you promised to have your phone surgically attached to your hand, but I decided to have some coffee first.”

      Speaking of coffee... “I’ll take that.” I confiscated her mug as I eased into the seat beside her. I wouldn’t allow myself to eat or drink anything from the Ankhs, which made coffee a luxury. But I didn’t mind taking from my best friend.

      “Hey!”