Wraith Read Online Free PDF

meant. My hand moved forward and grazed the name etched into the bottom.
    Jeannie Monroe.
    A voice startled me from behind, causing my fingers to withdraw. “I can’t help but touch paintings myself, even though they tell you not to.”
    I turned to find my “aunt” standing in the doorway. She was tall and thin, her hair streaked with gray, and she still wore it long and curly down her back. She was beautiful and elegant, even in a white T-shirt with a fluffy, knitted scarf at the neck. A long, denim skirt and suede cowboy boots completed her outfit, and I was immediately jealous at her ability to dress casual yet nicer than everyone else.
    “Aunt Jeannie! You surprised me!” I said, once I caught my breath.
    “Your mother said you were in here,” she said.
    Evan remained close, I could feel his presence. Although my heart slowed its pounding from being startled, I felt it pick back up when I looked at my aunt’s expression. Her brow furrowed and the corners of her eyes tightened in what I interpreted as confusion or concern as they flicked in the space Evan and I occupied.
    I forced a smile on my face and was relieved when I heard the boisterous laughter of my mother and grandmother in the kitchen. “We should see if they need help.”
    Jeannie hooked her arm through mine and together we moved through the doorway toward my family, leaving Evan behind.

    A FTER DINNER, I SLIPPED away from the adults for Bebe’s library. The high-ceilinged room off the front parlor was my makeshift bedroom when I visited. More than a library, it was a fascinating mixture of books, paintings, and collectibles. She collected pieces from all over the world and I loved staying in there.
    Evan had been gone since dinner, which was a bit unusual, but perhaps the family togetherness was more than even he could handle. He didn’t mention his family much, other than the fact he had two sisters and a mother who survived the terrible crash they had all been in. That in this accident he’d lost his life. I’d asked him about them before, names or ages, but he was hesitant, never offering anything tangible. His sadness was evident and it was clear that he missed them.
    I listened to music while flipping through a leather-bound photo book. Inside were photos of my mother as a child with her parents, doing the typical childhood activities, picnics, playgrounds, school dances, and birthday parties. My mother was ten years younger than Jeannie, and at a particular point in time my aunt made her appearance in the photographs as well. I studied one in particular when I heard a light rapping on the door.
    “It’s open.”
    “Can I come in?” Jeannie waited at the door. I made room for her on the couch
    “What are you looking at?” she asked, nudging the book with her hand.
    “Oh, just one of Bebe’s photo albums. Pictures of you and mom.” I tapped the white-trimmed square photo with my finger. They were at the beach, lying on towels in bathing suits.
    Jeannie sighed at the photo. “Oh what I would give for that body today. That bikini is quite small.”
    I squinted at the photo, considering the style of her 1970s bathing suit. “How old were you here?”
    “Twenty,” she said without hesitation. I raised my eyebrow and she caught it. “I remember specifically because that photo was taken about a month before I dropped out of school and moved to California.” 
    My jaw dropped of its own accord. “You did what?”
    She laughed again, louder this time. “Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t tell you about that, huh?”
    I shook my head. No one had ever mentioned any of this to me. “What happened? Why’d you do it?”
    She closed the photo album and leaned against the couch cushion. “This town was too small for me. I wanted out, to see things, to do things. I loved my family, but I never belonged here.”
    I could relate to the not-fitting-in part all too well. “What did you do?”
    “I traveled around a bit. Mexico, L.A…I