Read When They Fade for Free Online Page B

whiteness glow slightly pink.
    This is stupid. No one disappears into thin air. But I know she didn’t open the door and jump out. There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed that. I’m not that self-centered. And I’m not going crazy. I didn’t imagine the entire thing. I have no history of mental illness. No strange obsessive behaviors. I’ve never had any desire to cut myself or jump off bridges.
    Do insane people know they’re crazy?
    That leaves ghosts and goblins and whatever else goes bump in the night. I left all those fantasies around the time I got a training bra.
    She should get out of the car to check. Just in case. Maybe it happened so fast, her brain just didn’t have time to process it. That has to be it. All the other ideas are too preposterous for Tatum to even want to consider. She turns the ignition off and opens the door. A blast of cool wind slips into the car, making her shiver.
    “Hello?”
    Nothing. Not even crickets. Tatum climbs out of the car, the security system beeping at her, letting her know the keys are still in the ignition. She snatches at them, shoves them in her pocket. Remembering there’s a flashlight in the trunk, she reaches back into the car and presses the button. She closes the door quietly. The interior lights blink out, and she’s left in the darkness.
    Slowly she makes her way around to the trunk and pulls out the flashlight. Turning it on, she holds it in front of her, looking back down the road.
    Nothing.
    “Hello?”
    Nothing but pavement and fog. She checks the ditch and shines the beam along the trees and bushes.
    “Molly? Are you out there?”
    If there really was a girl in her car a few minutes ago, she’s done a good job of disappearing.
    But how?
    Tatum walks around the length of the car, even checking the backseat twice to make sure. Opening the passenger door, she shines the light against the seat, trying to find some sort of a clue. She reaches down and touches the upholstery. Runs her fingers along the area where the girl’s back leaned against the cloth. It’s still warm.
    It isn’t really much to go by, but it confirms that just a few minutes ago there was a girl sitting there—Molly—with her insanely long brown hair and funny outfit. And wasn’t she sporting sandals? Who on earth wears those this time of the year? Tatum looks down at her own boots. She’s only been outside the car for a few minutes, and already her toes are freezing. Sandals in the spring might work in Mexico, but not in Washington. Not even on a warm day.
    Hippie clothing, her mother would call it. The type of stuff that you find in secondhand stores but that usually costs a fortune because it’s considered retro and trendy.
    Old-fashioned clothing. Out-of-date hairstyle. Sudden disappearance into thin air. This is too much like the movie she and Claudette watched last summer.
    No, stop thinking like that. There’s no such thing as ghosts.
    But Molly couldn’t be a ghost. Spirits are supposed to be cold. Isn’t that what happens in movies? A chill goes through the room? Impossible. Tatum felt her. Molly reached out and touched her hand before she said those freaky things.
    You’re going to die. It will hurt and you’ll be alone. And no one will help you.
    What a horrible thing to say to someone. Was it a trick? Something that Claudette and the others came up with? A new way to torment Tatum even more? If so, where’s the group now? Wouldn’t they be hiding in the bushes, laughing their asses off at the chance to watch Tatum freak out?
    Unless there’s still more to come.
    Tatum shivers and zips her hoodie up a little higher. Looking in both directions, she can’t see any cars coming. Her car should be off to the side enough that someone won’t hit her. Tatum stares into the bushes for a moment before stepping off the road and into the ditch. She can’t help it; she has to double-check for two reasons: If this is a joke that’s being played, she would rather die than