Layla

Layla has spent the last two days meticulously planning out her death.

I’ve spent the last two days trying to find alternative solutions.

Sadly, I’ve found nothing.

She’s growing weaker. The longer she continues to take over Sable, the less sleep Sable gets. And when Layla does leave her body long enough for Sable to sleep, Sable sleeps very little. Only when the meds kick in, and even then, not for long.

Sable continues to try to escape, which has resulted in her wrists suffering even more damage. The marks are too prominent to hide. I keep them bandaged up, but I worry because Aspen and Chad are due to show back up today and we aren’t sure how to hide Layla’s wrists from them.

Right now, she’s wearing one of my long-sleeved shirts because there wasn’t anything with sleeves long enough to cover her wrists in her wardrobe.

Hopefully Aspen doesn’t notice the bandages.

Hopefully Aspen doesn’t notice anything.

Layla’s legs are across my lap, and we’re mindlessly watching TV

when we hear their car pull into the drive. We’re not actually paying attention to the TV. We’re just attempting to appear normal, which we’ll be attempting to do for the next twenty-four hours while Aspen and Chad are here.

Layla stands up and pulls the sleeves of her shirt down. She tucks them beneath her thumbs and heads toward the door. I follow her.

Aspen is already peeking her head inside when we make it to the foyer. I open the door all the way and take Aspen’s bag. Layla hugs her as soon as she walks through the door.

The hug catches me off guard. It isn’t a casual greeting. She hugs her tightly, like she’s missed her. I guess she has. Layla was confused the last time Aspen was here. She thought all her feelings belonged to someone else, so she probably didn’t acknowledge that the pull she felt toward Aspen was real.

“Well, hello,” Aspen says, laughing at Layla’s affection. Layla releases her, and Aspen tilts her head, looking at her curiously. “You look exhausted.”

Layla shrugs it off. “I’ve been sick for a few days. Feel much better now, though,” she lies, smiling brightly.

Chad nods his head toward me and grabs Aspen’s bag. “Please tell me you have beer. I’ve been driving twelve hours, and I need beer.” He walks toward the stairs to take their bags up to their usual bedroom, but Layla stretches her arm out, ushering Chad toward the hallway instead.

“Y’all get the downstairs bedroom this time,” Layla says. “The upstairs bathroom is broken.”

She’s lying, and I’m not sure why, but I help Chad take their things to the downstairs bedroom. Then the four of us congregate in the kitchen as Chad searches for something to drink.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks. “It smells good.”

Layla and I threw a casserole together about an hour ago. In the wake of everything happening, it was a nice reprieve. We’ve had a few moments over the last couple of days that I’ve somehow managed to enjoy, despite our circumstances. It’s hard not to let the reality of our situation remain front and center in our minds, but in the few times we’ve been preoccupied with something else, it was a welcome reminder of how things used to be between us. Before Sable.

“There’s a casserole in the oven,” Layla says. “It’s almost ready.” She looks at Aspen. “How was the trip to Colorado?”

Aspen smiles, but it’s obviously forced. She and Chad exchange a look. “Interesting,” Aspen says. “Two flat tires, one broken taillight, six hours wasted while we were stuck in a ditch.”

“Those six hours were not wasted,” Chad says to her, raising an eyebrow.

Aspen grins, and that’s enough of that conversation.

“She seems different.”

I spin around at the sound of Aspen’s voice. I thought I was alone in the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

“Better,” she says. “It’s like I finally have my sister back. Good call bringing her here. I think it’s helped her.”

I blow out a subtle release of air. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s definitely much better.”

“She looks tired, though. And she’s lost weight.”

I nod. “I’m keeping an eye on her. Like she said, she had the flu last week.”

“The flu?” Aspen asks with a tilt of her head. “She just told me it was food poisoning.”

Shit.

Layla and I need to make sure our lies align in the future.

I nod once. “Yeah. That too. Shitty week.” I grab my cell phone and Aspen follows me as I head outside, where Layla and Chad are.

Layla is seated at the patio table, next to a heating lamp I turned on after dinner. Chad is sitting at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water.

I heated the pool yesterday when we realized they were coming.

I walk over to Layla and press a kiss to the top of her head before sitting down next to her. She grabs my hand and smiles at me.

We spend the next half hour pretending our worlds are right side up.

We laugh at Aspen’s and Chad’s jokes. We force ourselves to appear relaxed. We even make plans to go on a road trip with them in two months.

A road trip we know can’t happen if we don’t figure out a way to solve this.

It hits me as I’m sitting here—why Layla is willing to risk her life in order to get her life back.

It’s because she doesn’t have a life at all while she’s stuck in this house at Sable’s mercy.

We can’t risk leaving this place when Layla is merely a temporary possessor of her own body. And what would life be like for Layla if I forced her to remain in our current setup? She’d be a visitor to this world . . . at Sable’s mercy. We’ll never be able to leave. We won’t even be able to take the trip we just planned to take with Aspen and Chad in two months.

This is it. This will be her life. Exhausted and imprisoned.

I’m pulled out of my own thoughts when Layla laughs loudly.

I catch myself staring too hard at her every now and then, but I’m fascinated watching her just be herself, even if she is forcing it. But there are moments—a split second here and there—when I forget this isn’t our normal.

But it’s not our normal. Hanging out with her sister can never be normal. It’ll have to be meticulously planned. She’ll never get to leave this place with Aspen.

Even their visits here can never be normal. When Chad and Aspen go to bed tonight, Layla is either going to have to figure out how to stay awake all night in order to prevent Sable from taking back over, or I’m going to have to figure out how to keep Sable quiet if she wakes up while Chad and Aspen are still in this house.

Maybe that’s why Layla put Chad and Aspen in the downstairs bedroom. That way, if Sable were to take over momentarily while they’re here, they might not hear any commotion from Sable before Layla can slip back into her.

“Layla told me you put in an offer on this place?” Aspen asks, looking at me. I must have been tuned out of their conversation, because I’m not sure what led to this question.

I nod. “Yeah, last week. Should be closing soon.”

“I hope you know we’re going to be here all the time. Wichita isn’t that far away, and I miss this place.” She looks at Layla. “I even miss you,”

she says teasingly.

Layla smiles and reaches out, squeezing Aspen’s hand. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you too. I can’t wait for everything to go back to normal.” Her words are sweet, but Aspen has no idea how much double meaning lies behind them.

Layla’s back is to the pool, so she doesn’t notice when Chad gets out of the water and makes his way to the deep end. He backs up until he’s about ten feet from the pool. Then he takes off his shirt and starts sprinting toward the water. He jumps, wrapping his arms around his knees, and yells right before he makes a huge splash.

Layla’s whole body jerks from the unexpected commotion behind her.

Almost immediately, I see the change. It’s like I can tell the exact moment when Layla slips out of her body now.

I freeze when I recognize Sable has taken over. The unexpected splash in the pool must have startled Layla, like the night the lightning scared her.

Sable’s eyes widen, and she looks over her shoulder, sitting straight up in her chair. She stands up suddenly, knocking her chair backward. “What the . . . ?” She looks down at her arms, then up at the house. “How did I get outside?”

I stand up immediately and try to slip between her and Aspen, but Sable takes a quick step back. “Don’t you dare come near me!” she screams at me.

Shit.

Aspen stands now. “Layla? What’s wrong?”

Sable continues to back away from me. She points at me while looking frantically at Aspen. “He’s drugging me! He won’t let me leave!” I shake my head, ready to defend myself, but before I can open my mouth, Sable pulls one of her shirtsleeves up, revealing the bandage on one of her wrists. “He keeps me tied up!”

I lunge toward her to stop her, but before I reach her, her arm falls to her side and her eyes close. I stand in front of her, gripping her shoulders, trying to shield her from Aspen’s view. Layla inhales a slow breath, and then she calmly opens her eyes. I see the fear pool in her face.

“What is wrong?” Aspen says, her voice louder and full of panic.

“What do you mean he’s drugging you?” Aspen pushes herself between me and Layla, breaking us apart.

Aspen is holding Layla’s face in her hands, trying to get her to look at her and not me.

I grip the sides of my head and take a step back. I have no idea how she’s going to explain this slipup.

Layla’s eyes are wide, as if she’s struggling to figure out a way out of this. I have no idea what to say. Aspen looks over her shoulder and glares at me as if I’m a monster.

“Just . . . kidding?” Layla says, completely unconvincing.

“Wh . . . what?” Aspen says.

Chad is sloshing over to us now, his jeans leaving puddles of water behind him. “What’s going on?”

Aspen points at Layla. “She . . . she just said Leeds is drugging her.

And keeping her tied up.”

“I was kidding,” Layla says, looking back and forth between them, attempting to explain away the outburst. She’s forcing a smile, but everything is so tense now.

“That’s a weird thing to joke about,” Chad says.

“I don’t think it’s a joke,” Aspen says. “Show me your wrist again.”

Layla tucks her sleeve beneath her thumb and pulls her hand away. “It was an inside joke,” she says. She looks at me. “Tell her, Leeds.”

I don’t know what to tell her. At this point, there’s no way Aspen will believe a word that comes out of my mouth. But I nod anyway and move closer to Layla as I wrap a hand around her waist. “She’s right. It’s a weird inside joke. It’s only funny to us.”

Aspen stares at Layla in disbelief. Then she brings her hands to her forehead as if she doesn’t know what to make of the last minute of her life.

She shakes her head, confused. Unconvinced. “Come inside the house with me, Layla,” she says, reaching a hand out to her sister.

Layla just stares at it. Then she shakes her head. “Aspen, I know that was weird. I’m sorry. I do things I can’t explain sometimes . . . because of the brain injury. I thought it would be a funny joke. It fell flat.”

Aspen studies her sister’s face . . . looking for a sign. A silent plea for help, maybe. “This is seriously fucked up,” she says. Then she pushes past us and heads to the house.

Chad watches Aspen disappear into the house. Then he downs the rest of his beer. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You guys are strange,” he says, right before he follows after Aspen.

It’s just Layla and me outside now.

Layla covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

I pull her in for a hug. “They’ll get over it.”

Layla shakes her head adamantly. “Aspen won’t. I saw the look on her face. She doesn’t trust you now.” She presses her face against my chest.

“We can’t keep doing this, Leeds. I want it to stop.”

I nod, but only because I want her to relax. I’ll momentarily agree with anything if it puts her mind at ease.

“Tonight. I want to do it tonight.”

I shake my head. “Please, no.”

“We’re doing it tonight.” Her voice is resolute. Her words final.

I feel like I’ve sunk to the bottom of the pool. My lungs feel dense with water. I clear my throat. “How are we supposed to do this tonight?

Your sister is here.”

As if she’s been thinking about it the whole time, she answers immediately. “I think drowning would be the easiest way. We’d have to time it perfectly. You’d have to be sure my heart stops before you start to resuscitate me.”

I separate myself from her and begin to pace the concrete surrounding the pool. “I don’t know that I feel comfortable with that. I don’t even know how to do CPR.”

“Aspen is a nurse.”

“Aspen won’t go along with this,” I say.

Layla closes any space between us and lowers her voice. “She doesn’t have to. We’ll play it off like it isn’t planned. Like it’s an accident. As soon as my heart stops beating, you’ll yell for her. I made sure one of their bedroom windows is open, so she’ll hear you. And if she doesn’t, just run to the window and wake her up.”

That’s why she put them downstairs. “You already had this planned out?”

Layla’s eyes are firm. “Don’t judge me. You have no idea what it’s like for me.”

There’s a world of pain in her expression like I’ve never seen. I don’t even know how to argue against that pain.

She’s right. I don’t know what it’s like for her. I won’t even pretend to know. All I can do at this point is love her enough to attempt to find trust in her instincts.

“What if I can’t bring you back right away? What happens if the ambulance takes your body away before you’re able to slip back into it?”

“Don’t let them. Make sure Aspen brings me back.”

“How do you know Aspen will know what to do?”

“She’s a nurse. She saves lives every day.”

I don’t like this. “What if it works and we bring your body back? How do we know Sable won’t come back instead of you?”

“I won’t let her, Leeds.” Layla says that with such conviction I can’t help but trust her. I pull her to me and rest my chin on top of her head. For the first time since finding out ghosts are real . . . I’m terrified.

“I love you.”

Her words are muffled against my chest when she says, “I love you too. So much. That’s how I know this is going to work.”