On the Shores of Eternity, Page 3

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  When I reached Cassandra’s bedroom, my niece looked as if she had seen a ghost, and perhaps she had.

  "What's wrong?" I prompted her.

  Tears cascaded down her cheeks.

  "He was here again!"

  I searched her hazel eyes for an explanation.

  "Do you mean, Devon?" I supplied.

  She nodded solemnly.

  "I wanted you to meet him." she confessed. "I know you think I'm making him up, but I'm not."

  I sat on the bed beside her.

  "So you really believe that Devon is a ghost?"

  Cassandra's eyes narrowed.

  "What else could he be?" she ruminated. "How else can you explain someone who appears and disappears?"

  I thought about my encounter with Jordan Harmon, who seemed to fit that very same description. Was Hathaway Hall really haunted?

  "Cassandra, when you looked out your window to call me, what did you see?"

  Her face twisted into a question mark.

  "I don't understand, Aunt Laura."

  I speculated just how I could rephrase the question without revealing too much.

  "Could you see me from the window?"

  She thought a moment.

  "It was dark, but I could see your outline with that umbrella."

  And here she pointed to the parasol I was holding.

  "And that's all?" I queried.

  She nodded again. "Yes, why do you ask?"

  I shook my head. "No reason. Considering how good your vision is for someone who was not wearing her glasses."

  I pointed to her spectacles lying on the bedside table.

  "I don't wear them when I'm getting ready for bed." she explained. Then looking back at the parasol she added, “Where did that come from?"

  I handed it to her for inspection. The cloth was still cold and damp with remnants of sand.

  "It must have washed up on the shore." I replied. "Some little girl must be missing it now. Would you like to keep it?"

  She nodded her head, opening the parasol up and began twirling it around.

  I tousled her hair with my hand and pulled back the covers.

  "It's time for you to get some sleep now. We have a lot to do tomorrow, Cassandra."

  She slipped under the blanket, swimming beneath the covers.

  "So you’re going into town for my teaching curriculum?"

  I tilted my head in affirmation. It disturbed me that she couldn’t return to school. It was so unhealthy for her to be held captive by this house. Cassandra needed other children to play with. My niece was so lonely she had created an imaginary playmate -- or so I thought.