“I have to warn you, my mom isn’t doing well.” Bryan opened the back door to his house, his voice lowered. “She’s probably sleeping in the back, so we’ll have to be quiet.”

  The interior of Bryan’s home was warm and dark, and with all of the shades and curtains drawn it took a moment for my eyes to adjust against. The inside of his bungalow-style home was familiar, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that the floorplan was nearly identical to my grandparent’s house. I stood in the kitchen and glanced around at the similarly spartan interior and outdated fixtures and hugged myself.

  “The phone’s over there.” Bryan pointed to a rotary-style phone mounted on the wall. “I’ll see if I can find a phone book.”

  Bryan disappeared into the living room and began to rummage around the built-in bookshelf that lined the back window. I paused and glanced around the kitchen trying to figure out where the phone might be. I couldn’t remember the last time I had even used a landline phone.

  There was very little on the Attaway’s kitchen counter; an old drip-style coffee maker, an even older toaster. Like my grandparents’ house, there wasn’t much in the way of clutter or personal items to be seen. There wasn’t a single photograph or personal item in sight, and despite the house being clean and well kept, everything was outdated. But there was one personal item that caught my attention. A Palmetto Lake Association Cookbook.

  “It’s in here somewhere, just give me a minute.” Bryan called out.

  “Ok, just hurry please.” I picked up the cookbook, which featured a sun and palmetto insignia embossed on the front. It was an old, self-published style cookbook with a plastic spiral binding and a paper cover. Inside on the front page was a copyright date of 1979, Palmetto Lake Association Press. I flipped through, my eyes drawn to the names of the recipes. Gertie’s Boozy Lemonade. Darla’s Breakfast Casserole. There were dozens of recipes submitted by members of the association, including one from my own grandmother. Antonia’s Cheesecake.

  But it was the photo in the back of the recipe book that caused me to catch my breath. It was a grainy black and white photo, no bigger than 4” x 6”, and what it showed made my heart stand still. There, smiling and standing in two straight rows were the members of the association, decked out in their white gowns. My grandparents were among them. Everyone in the photo looked exactly the same now as they did back then; as though they hadn’t aged a day in decades. All of the feeling left my legs and my fight or flight senses kicked in. I had to run. I had to…

  “Here it is.” Bryan returned from the living room with a thick phone book in his hand. He blinked and looked down at then back up at me. “Everything okay?”

  “No.” I handed him the cookbook and whispered. “Bryan, what the hell is this?”

  “My mom’s old recipe book?” He shrugged and looked down at the page opened to the group photo. “I don’t get it.”

  “Look!” I pointed to Darla and Don. “This book is from the 1970’s! They haven’t aged a day!”

  Bryan blinked and examined the photo closer. He flipped to the front of the book and read the copyright date, then glanced at the photo again. “Yeah, the neighbors have aged pretty well, I guess. Summer, do you need some water or something?”

  I sighed, my legs tingling with adrenaline. “No. I’m just going to make this phone call and get out of here.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you need something though.”

  “I will. Thanks.” I flipped through the phone book, found the number for roadside assistance and placed the call. I watched Bryan from the side of my eye as I held the heavy receiver in my hand and let it ring in my ear. Was he so used to seeing all of the members of the association? Is that why he couldn’t see what she could?

  “Hello. Yeah, hi. This is Summer Gaines, I have an account with you. I need someone to come out and look at my RV and possibly tow it.”

  “M’am, can we have your account number?”

  I rummaged around in my purse and located my roadside assistance card. After a series of questions, the customer service representative took down the address.

  “We’ll have someone out there hopefully within an hour. Just be sure to stay near the vehicle with your membership card at the ready.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  I placed the handset on the receiver with a heavy click and glanced up at Bryan. He stood and waited with his arms crossed at his chest and leaned up against the stove. “Someone coming out to look at the RV?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Should be here within the hour.”

  “Okay.” Bryan scratched the back of his head. “Do you want to get changed into some dry clothes or something?”

  I glanced down at my soaked jeans and sneakers. “Yeah, that would probably be a good idea. I need to go check on Joy, too.”

  “I can come with you if you want,” he offered. “I’m not busy. Plus you seem kind of spooked.”

  My thoughts returned to the parade of association members and their unnaturally pleasant smiles. The way Joy seemed to shrug off the situation as though it were no big deal. What if they were coming back next to dunk me in the lake? What if the ghost of my mother was still lurking in the trees, ready to scare me half to death again? What if I was the crazy one?

  “Yeah. Maybe that’s not a bad idea, actually.” I grabbed my bag and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  The neighborhood was unnaturally quiet as I walked out of Bryan’s kitchen and into the yard. The lake was glassy and still, and there was no one else around. No sound of vehicles from the road, no whir of a faraway boat motor. Not even the hum of insects or cackling birds. Nothing at all.

  “Listen.” I whispered and turned to Bryan.

  He stopped and looked at me again in a way that stabbed at my heart. He wrinkled his forehead and frowned. “Listen to what?”

  “Nothing. That’s the point.” I bit my lip. Maybe it was pointless. Even Bryan thought I was going mad. I huffed, exasperated. “I’m just anxious. This has been an awful weekend and I just want to go home.”

  He scoffed. “Okay.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Bryan leaned in and took my hand, his silhouette blocking out the afternoon sun. Brilliant rays surrounded his head like a halo against the dazzling cerulean sky. He gazed down at me and the world all around came buzzing back to life again, the grass greener than ever, the lake bluer than ever, the insects in the trees practically screaming.

  “I mean, last night it didn’t seem like you wanted to go home so bad.” He smiled. “Last night I thought maybe… maybe we could pick up where we left off again.”

  I swayed in my soggy sneakers as his hand wound around my waist. I closed my eyes and heard the waves lap against the shore. Someone laughed across the lake, their voice dancing along the water like a long-ago echo. I let myself melt into his embrace and something clicked again. Maybe I was home.

  And then, tangled in his warm embrace, a memory called out to me through the fog. Savannah’s husky voice over the phone. Isabella’s dimple-cheeked grin. Every significant moment of their lives from the instant I knew they were growing inside of me until I kissed them goodbye on my way to the lake house flashed before my eyes. They were my home. No matter what, I couldn’t let myself be romanced by my past. By this place.

  “I can’t.” I let out a low gasp, opened my eyes and pulled away.

  Bryan stared down at me and nodded. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “Thank you.” I wiped at the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. The hand that had been badly injured the day before. It was practically healed.

  “Let’s get you into some dry clothes.” Bryan nodded.

  “Yeah,” I said, still admiring my hand. “I need to get this lake off of me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I changed into my last pair of dry shorts and a shirt inside the hot, soggy RV. The interior was humid and smelled like lake water and I had to crack the windows just to keep from gagging. I slipped into my flip flops and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as Bryan stood guard outside. Joy was still inside my grandparents house doing God knows what. Now that I was dry and knew that help was on the way, I steeled myself to find out.

  “Is she still in there?” I stepped out of the RV into the bright sunlight and tied my hair up into a ponytail.

  “I haven’t seen her come out.”

  “I need to go and check on her.” I propped my hands on my hips. “Would you mind staying here for a few minutes to keep an eye out for roadside assistance?”

  “Sure.” Bryan said. “I can look under the hood too and see if there’s something I can do to fix it? I know a thing or two about automotive repair.”

  “No, that’s not necessary.” My eyes flicked to the treeline, half expecting to see the shadowy ghost of my mother. Nothing. “I’ll just call a cab or get a rental car or something if they have to tow it.”

  “It’s no trouble…”

  “Really.” I said, perhaps a little too sternly. “Thank you though. I’m just going to go check on Joy and I’ll be right back out.”

  I clenched my fists at my side and threw my shoulders back. My stomach dropped with every step I took up the stairs toward my grandparents house again. Everything felt wrong. My instincts told me to leave; to just have Bryan drive me out of the neighborhood, into town and as far away from Palmetto Lake as possible. But I couldn’t leave Joy. She didn’t leave me when I was passed out behind the wheel. I could have been dead from heat exhaustion if it wasn’t for her. Now, she was going through some sort of relapse or manic episode. Our mother wasn’t here to make sure she was staying straight anymore. It was up to me now. I had to be my sister’s keeper.

  “Joy?” I opened the kitchen door wide, and was instantly hit with a strange sensation. Something about the house had changed. The air was different. The light was different. It wasn’t because we had cleaned out the house either. There was something ominous and unnamed about the way the house felt. It was as if the very air around me was pushing me out.

  “Joy? Are you okay?”

  The sound of running water from the bathroom turned my head. A pair of curtains that we had forgotten to remove in our haste to leave fluttered at the window overlooking the lake. I shuddered and stepped further into the house, my pulse thumping away at a steady, accelerated beat.

  “Joy? Are you in there?”

  “I’m here.” Joy emerged from the bathroom into the hall, her hair lightly damp.

  “I’ve got someone coming out to tow the RV.” I blinked as I took her in and cocked my head to one side. “Are you okay?”

  There was something different about my sister, something that I couldn’t pinpoint at first. But the closer I got and the longer I looked, the more obvious it became. Her skin was plump and fresh-looking. Her eyes were clear and when her pink lips pulled back into a smile, she revealed gleaming, straight teeth. Joy swayed inside a crisp, button-front dress, her figure also looking more filled out — healthier, somehow.

  “I’m fine.” She laughed. “You’re being weird.”

  “You’re wearing a dress. I haven’t seen you wear a dress since we were kids.”

  “Oh, do you like it? I found it in mom’s closet.” Joy smoothed out the skirt. “It’s a little old-fashioned, but it’s pretty. It’s nice to have something that used to be hers.”

  “I guess so.” I swallowed. “Joy, I think something is wrong. Maybe you should come to town and go to a walk-in clinic with me?”

  “Why? Are you feeling bad?” She brushed out her mane of auburn hair, now glossy and more full than ever.

  “No. I mean, yeah. I feel like hell.” I said. “I think that maybe, something is wrong with you though?”

  “Me? No. I feel amazing.” Joy walked toward me and narrowed her eyes. She grabbed my left hand and turned it from side to side. “Look. You’re healing up already.”

  “I know.” I swallowed and glanced up at my sister. This was the Joy that I always thought she would grow to become. Healthy. Vibrant. Pleasant to be around. But in my heart, I knew that it wasn’t real. This Joy was manufactured somehow. My throat closed up and again, big fat tears populated in the corner of my eyes. “Joy, I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Oh, Summer.” Joy wrapped me in a hug and held me tight. I squeezed my eyes shut and let the tears fall. “You know, this whole weekend has been so emotional. You’re right to be so upset.”

  I sobbed and nodded. Something was wrong with me. Something was finally right with Joy. Nothing was adding up.

  “Come on.” I hugged her back. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “I can’t do that, Summer.” Joy sighed. “I don’t want to sell this house.”

  I stopped sobbing and opened my eyes. There, in the corner of the room, watching and waiting, was the ghost of our mother, hidden in shadow. But this time, I didn’t feel dread at her presence.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I want you to sell the house to me.” Joy said. “I’ll pay you half of what it’s worth, and we can call it even.”

  My blood ran cold in my veins. Joy stroked my hair and held me tighter.

  “How can you afford that?” I said. “Joy, we have to let go of this house.”

  “We can’t ever let go of this house.” Her voice was flat, her expression blank as she wound her hands through my hair. She grasped my hair in her fist, my skin tight where the strand were rooted on my scalp. “You know that, don’t you?”

  My eyes locked with the spirit of my mother. I expected her at any moment to rush us both and knock me unconscious again. But she didn’t. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. Just watched, and waited and gave me a look. Yet somehow, deep in the recesses of my mind, I knew what she wanted me to do. I could tell by the gleam in her eyes. It was the same look my mother gave me on Christmas the year I was ten and Joy was eight. That was the year I stopped believing in Santa and magic and everything else, but I knew Joy still believed. I couldn’t ruin it for her.

  Tell her what she wants to hear, Summer.

  “Sure. You can have the house.” I blurted.

  Joy’s vice grip on my hair eased. She leaned back, held me by the shoulders and cocked her head to the side. “Do you mean it?”

  It’s just a white lie. It won’t hurt anyone.

  “Yes. I can call my realtor friend and I’m sure we can work it out with the estate lawyers somehow.” I forced a smile and glanced in the corner of the room. Our mother was gone.

  “Well, that’s wonderful.” Joy smiled. “And then eventually, maybe you and Jeremy and the girls could move out here too!”

  “That would be nice.” I smiled. I wanted to throw up. “You know, I called someone to come look at the RV? I just need to step out and see if they’re here yet.”

  “Alright.” Joy hummed to herself and walked back toward the bathroom.

  I didn’t wait another moment in that damned house. I bolted out the door and down the porch stairs where Bryan was still waiting, grabbed his arm and began pulling him toward his house.

  “What happened?” He panted, struggling to keep up with me.

  “I need you to drive me to town.”

  “But what about roadside assistance? What about your sister?”

  “That’s not my sister anymore.” I said. “I need you to get me out of here and away from this fucking lake.”

  “Okay, just. Damn, Summer.” Bryan huffed and pointed to a vintage pickup. “That’s my truck over there. Go wait in the cab, I’ll go get the keys.”

  My heart pounded as I sped toward the gravel driveway, my flip flops slapping on the ground beneath me. Jeremy would be pissed that I left the RV and the trailer, but I didn’t care. It would be impossible to explain, and no one would believe me anyway. But at that moment, I was in fear for my life like never before. Bryan was my only ticket out of this hell hole and I couldn’t count on roadside assistance or a taxi or anything else to get me to safety. I had to leave and I had to do it now.

  I slid into the passenger side of Bryan’s vintage truck, the vinyl seat crackling and molten hot beneath my weight. The warm upholstery stuck to the back of my thighs and I winced and repositioned myself against the heat. The interior of his truck wasn’t clean, nor was it dirty, but it definitely had a smell, like many old things do. Something musty and wet. I wrinkled my nose and stared out the windshield toward the lake. I hoped it would be the last time I ever set eyes on it.

  “What’s taking him so long?” I muttered and turned my head toward his house. The sun was getting low over the trees, and a warm breeze blew in, sending the boughs of dripping Spanish moss overhead to wave lazily in the wind. I glanced up in the trees and again saw the ghost of my mother staring down at me. Something about her presence told me I wasn’t safe.

  Bryan should have been back by now. How long does it take to find a set of car keys? I gripped the handle of the door, every cell in my body buzzing with fight or flight chemicals. I was ready to run five miles. Ready to fight a bear. My system was flooded with so much adrenaline I could practically fly. I braced myself and took in another deep breath. I would count to five, and then if Bryan wasn’t back, I would make a run for it.

  “One.”

  I closed my eyes and saw my mother carrying a birthday cake and singing to me.

  “Two.”

  Joy and I on our first day of school.

  “Three.”

  The first time I held Savannah in my arms.

  “Four.”

  The first time Isabella looked up at me and smiled.

  “Five.”

  I opened my eyes and covered my mouth in a silent scream. The association had returned, this time dressed from head-to-toe in black tunics. They marched in a line along the lake shore just as before, humming the same tune they sang to the moon. I was frozen and trapped again as I watched them ascend and turn their faces towards me. I couldn’t let them get me. I couldn’t let them do to me whatever they did to Joy. I had to run. I had to fight.