"She has no other choice now that she's chosen to be with you."
I gaze out the window, my breath feeling hot, abbreviated, telling myself there's no way this is true.
"Riley didn't cross the bridge."
"You're wrong. I saw her." I glare. "She waved good-bye and everything, they all waved good-bye. I should know: I was there."
"Ever, I've no doubt what you saw; but what I meant to say was, Riley didn't make it to the other side. She stopped halfway and ran back to find you."
"Sorry, but you're wrong," I tell her. "That's not at all true."
My heart pounding in my chest as I remember that very last moment, the smiles, the waves, and then-and then nothing-they disappeared, while I fought and begged and pleaded to stay.
They were taken, while I remained. And it's entirely my fault. It should've been me.
Every bad thing can be traced back to me.
"Riley turned back at the very last second," she continues.
"When no one was looking, and your parents and Buttercup had already crossed. She told me, Ever, we've been through it many times. Your parents moved on, you came back to life, and Riley got stuck, left behind. And now she spends her time wandering between visits to you, me, old neighbors and friends, and a few naughty celebrities." She smiles.
"You know about that?" I look at her, eyes wide.
She nods. "It's only natural, though most earthbound entities bore of it pretty quickly."
"Earthbound what?"
"Entities, spirits, ghosts, it's all the same. Though it's quite different from those who've crossed over."
"So you're saying Riley is stuck?"
She nods. "You have to convince her to go."
I shake my head, thinking: It's
hardly up to me. "She's already gone. She barely comes around anymore," I mumble, glaring at her like she's responsible, but that's only because she is.
"You have to give her your blessing. You have to let her know it's okay."
"Listen," I say, tired of this discussion, of Ava butting into my business, telling me how to run my life. "I came here for help, not to listen to this. If Riley wants to stick around, then fine, that's her business. Just because she's twelve doesn't mean I can tell her what to do. She's pretty stubborn you know?"
"Hmmm, wonder where she gets it?" Ava says, sipping her tea and gazing at me.
But even though she smiles, tries to make like it's ajoke, I just look at her and say, "If you've changed your mind about helping me, then just say so." I rise from my seat, my eyes teary, my body panicky, my head pounding, yet fully prepared to leave if I have to. Remembering what my dad taught me about the key' to negotiating that you have to be willing to walk away no matter what.
She looks at me for a moment, then motions for me to sit.
"As you wish." She sighs. "Here's how you do it."
By the time Ava walks me outside, I'm surprised to see that it's already dark. I guess I spent more time in there than I realized, going through a step-by-step meditation, learning how to ground myself and create my own psychic shi!:ld. But even though things didn't start off so well, especially all that stuff about Riley, I'm still glad I came. It's the first time I've felt completely normal, without the crutch of alcohol or Damen, in a very longtime.
I thank her again, and head for my car, and just as I'm about to climb in, Ava looks at me and says, "Ever?"
I gaze at her, seeing her framed only by the soft yellow light of her porch now that her aura is no longer visible.
"I really wish you'd let me show you how to undo the shield.
You might be surprised and find that you miss it," she coaxes.