Page 31 of The Rut in the Road

“I don’t have to,” I replied, nodding at the ghost. “He followed you here.”

Her hands flew to her mouth, tears filling her grey eyes. “He’s—here?”

You can see me?Her brother sounded just as urgent.

I can, I said to him silently. “My name is Rayn,” I told them both.

The woman sniffled. “Bethany Tripp,” she said, then swallowed. “I—I brought my checkbook?—”

“We’ll deal with that later,” I told her. I had no idea what Mason might want me to charge her.Ifhe wanted me to charge her, since I wasn’t exactly experienced in doing séances. I was about to ask her what she wanted to tell her brother, but she could just say it, whatever it was.

“He’s here,” I told her. “So whatever you want to tell him, you can.”

“Robby?”

I’m here, Betts.He looked at me.

“He says that he’s here. He… He calls you Betts,” I said, not sure if that was rude to say out loud.

She gave me a tearful smile. “He always has, yes,” she said softly, then the tears came.

“Robby, I am so sorry.”

It wasn’t your fault, Betts,he said, and he sounded miserable.Tell her, he said, turning to me, begging.Tell her it wasn’t her fault.

“He says that it wasn’t your fault,” I told her, although I had no idea what was going on or why she might have thought it was.

“I should have known,” she rasped. “I should have seen how unhappy—” She cut herself off.

Even I could read the silence.

No, Betts.He tried to touch her, but his hands just went through her shoulder, and he turned to me.

“He says no,” I told her. “And he’s—he’s trying to touch you, but he can’t.”

More tears fell down her cheeks. “We could have gotten help,” she said softly.

There was nothing that could have helped me,he said softly.I was dying, Betts.

I looked over at him.Dying?I asked, partly because I figured Bethany would want to know, and partly because I did.

Cancer, he said softly.Brain cancer. Inoperable. I—didn’t want anyone to worry. And I didn’t want to go through that.He looked at his sister, and it was clear how much he loved her.I didn’t want Betts to have to go through that.

Anyone?I asked him.

Betts. Mom.He looked away from her, meeting my eyes.Dad died from cancer. Not the same kind, but he refused to go to the doctor until he was already coughing up blood. I couldn’t make them go through that again.

I nodded. “He was diagnosed with brain cancer,” I told Bethany, and she gasped. “He didn’t want to… linger. Or to put your and your mother through that again.”

“Oh, Robby,” she sobbed, and her hand reached out and grabbed mine, squeezing. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I let her hold my hand, closing my fingers so that I gently held hers in return. “Robby…”

There was nothing they could do,he said softly, crouching beside both of us.I got four opinions. Just in case.The ghost’s eyes shone with tears, too.I tried, Betts. I really did.

I swallowed, then licked my lips, which were dry. “He got more than one opinion, just in case,” I told Bethany. “They all agreed there was nothing anyone could do.”

She nodded, tears still streaming down her face. “I’m still sorry,” she rasped. “I’m just… sorry.”

Robby nodded.Me, too, he said, his silent voice soft.