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all these Fades, I’ve grown to recognize this road and its bumps and curves. The burned-down barn on the right that was standing until around my third Fade. The small lake across from it. I can’t see it in the dark, but I know it’s there. I swam in it, three days before I died. I know this road better than any other. Even the fog doesn’t trip me up. We drive past the field where Walter dumped my body. Only a few more miles to go and we’ll reach the town limits. At the rate the girl is driving, I’ll be Fading in about two minutes.
    Time to make my move.
    When she puts her hand on the gearshift, I reach out suddenly and run my fingers across her skin. She instantly pulls back. So much for being discreet.
    What comes next makes me even more obvious.
    A wave of emotions crashes against my brain, making me cry out in horror. Pain. Sadness. I see flashes of events: people slamming against her in the hallway, computer messages filled with mean words, a girl with long curly hair screaming, angry feelings toward an older man, possibly a teacher. I see the girl crying in her bedroom, wiping away the tears, trying to pretend nothing’s happening. All these horrible moments. A terrible loneliness.
    That’s only the beginning. What comes next is a million times worse.
    Darkness. Shoes. Kicking. Blood. Water. Metal. A face being pushed under the surface, lungs screaming for air. Laughing.
    Betrayal.
    Something is about to happen. Something that will make my death look like a walk in the park. The images assault me. I can’t make them stop. It’s like watching a movie in fast-forward, only I’m hearing every single scream, feeling every single emotion. I double over, hands clenching my stomach as a stabbing pain cuts through me like a knife.
    “Are you okay?” The girl begins to slow down.
    I start to Fade. It’s happening too quickly. I need to get this message out. I have to warn her. I reach out and grab her wrist. She tries to pull away, but I hold on tighter. I have to tell her.
    “You’re going to die. It will hurt and you’ll be alone. And no one will help you.” A sob catches in my throat as the words leave my lips.
    “What? What do you mean?”
    But I can’t answer. I’m fading away into the gray upholstery. I see her face. Eyes wide and terrified. Curious. She can’t believe what’s happening. Reality just won’t allow her to believe.
    Later, she’ll find ways to convince herself that she made the whole thing up.
    I pray with all my heart that she doesn’t.

TATUM
    What the hell?
    Tatum’s foot automatically slams against the brake. Twisting the steering wheel, she brings the car to a stop by the side of the road. Tires crunch gravel, and for a horrifying second she thinks she’s heading straight into the ditch. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen; no need to call a tow truck tonight. That would be one more proverbial backbreaking straw to send her father further off the deep end.
    What the hell just happened?
    The girl, Molly—that was her name—is gone. Tatum looks at the empty passenger seat, not believing her eyes, her brain frantically running on overdrive to try and find an explanation. Anything.
    No one disappears into thin air. It’s not possible.
    Unless they’re a ghost.
    Or Tatum is completely crazy.
    No such thing…I mean the ghost thing. Insanity’s still up for debate.
    The door. She must have opened it and slipped out. Jumped and barrel-rolled into the bushes.
No, that’s not possible.
Tatum knows that didn’t happen. She would have seen that. You can’t just climb out while the vehicle is moving. You’d have to be a stunt person or some sort of acrobat. Can you even open a car door while it’s moving? Tatum tends to automatically lock the car at night. Did she after Molly climbed in? She can’t remember. Besides, the warning system would have gone wild. She looks up into the rearview mirror. Nothing moves in the fog behind her. Her brake lights blaze red, making the