Ghost Mortem – Bonus Scene

Chapter 11 – Everly’s Third Eye Awakening From Leandra’s Point of View

I took Everly’s face gently between my hands, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my fingertips. Poor girl—finding Hudson Montayne’s body like that. And now, she was, carrying darkness around her like a thick fog that wouldn’t lift. Maybe he was stuck on her, his spirit clinging for reasons he’d never be able to tell her. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but some forces don’t listen to reason. They follow their own rules, and poor Everly had found herself right in the middle of a nightmare she couldn’t avoid.

She looked up at me, her big eyes a little red around the edges, showing the strain. I could tell she wanted to be brave, to shake off the sadness like she always did, but even a sturdy spirit like hers had limits. My spirit guides nudged at me, firm and insistent, like a hand pressing between my shoulder blades. “This has to be done, Leandra,” they were saying. “Clear that shadow before it digs in any deeper.”

For a long moment, I searched Everly’s face, tilting my head one way, then the other before brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek to get a better look. My Jacy had been her best friend since kindergarten, and the two of them might as well have been sisters. Despite what Kitty Dupree might have to say about me, I’d felt a bond with Everly from the minute Jacy ran up to me, dragging Everly by the hand and introducing her new friend. Now, here she was, back from a life gone upside down, and just when she was most in need of some home and healing, she got hit with horror and despair.

Jacy must have brought Everly here for me to help. There was nothing else for it. I had to do something. My daughter’s trust was a gift I’d never take lightly—nor would Everly’s come to that.

“Jacy, can you get my bag out of the car? You know the one. I need to smudge Everly before the cloud over her gets any darker.” My tone was calm, but Jacy knew by the look on my face that I wasn’t fooling around. She nodded, her usual chatter gone as she slipped out of the cabin. She looked back at me once, her eyes a little narrower than I liked, but she didn’t tease me about what she considered my woo-woo ways.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to—” Everly protested. She had no idea how bad things were, the poor dear.

I took a deep breath and let the calm of my guides wash over me. There was no hurrying this kind of work, only steady hands and steady purpose. This dark cloud clinging to Everly wasn’t something I could ignore and still live with myself. After all, when someone is given the gift of being able to perceive the universe on a deeper level, they’re expected to use that gift as often as possible. Shirking my cosmic duty wasn’t on my list of things to do. Not today. Not ever. 

When Jacy returned, I reached into my bag, retrieving a bundle of white sage and a large feather. I knew how Everly would react—she tried to hide it, but she never did take well to sage. But in this case, it wasn’t optional. Her aura…no, her entire being needed cleansing. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen the darkness of death hovering around her, but it was different than when her grandmother, Sadie, died. Sadie Dupree was a fine woman; half the town carried darkness after her loss. This was far worse.

I glanced at her with a little smile, reassuring her the best I could. “You just hold tight, baby. This’ll help clear some of that trouble hanging around you.”

She wrinkled her nose, already starting to cough as I lit the sage and circled the bundle in a wide arc. The earthy scent filled the air, rising in thin trails of smoke that wrapped around her like an embrace. In the back of my mind, I felt my guides’ presence warm and comforting, their hands guiding mine. The sage wasn’t just smoke and scent; it was a cleanser, drawing out what didn’t belong, what wanted to dig in and fester.

The smoky tendrils wafted around Everly, her face paled as I felt her stomach protest—sometimes it just plain sucks to be an empath, but it is my cross to bear.

 “Mom, it’s enough,” Jacy said, putting her hand on my arm. “Everly’s turning green. Let it go.”

But it wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t finished. I couldn’t do anything about the darkness inside—only time would heal the wounds to her soul, but I sure as heck could block what was preying on her.

The quiet voices that guide me through this life might sound a lot like my own, and people in this town might think I’m touched in the head, but I know when I’m tucked between the bosom of mother earth and the embrace of the universe. Their message was clear: There’s more—don’t pull back until it’s done. I shook my head at Jacy and waved the feather to waft sage smoke over Everly’s head in one final pass. My voice dropped to a low murmur as I leaned in close, speaking to the guides as much as Everly. “I need to … there’s something … show me how,” I whispered. I could feel Everly’s discomfort, but this wasn’t about comfort—it was about getting that shadow off her, no matter how stubborn it was.

At last, I handed the bowl and sage bundle to Jacy, who doused it in the cold ash of the fire pit until the smoke finally cleared. The scent clung to us both, earthy and thick. I saw Everly breathe deep, relief softening her face as she drew in the fresh air, but I wasn’t done yet.

“Give me that,” I told Jacy, who held the bowl out cautiously. She knew this wasn’t like the usual ritual, and I could see her wondering what else I had planned.

Going off what I thought I heard from my guides, I pulled out one vial of oil after another and sprinkled a few drops of each into the ashes, mixing the dark, earthy paste with my finger. The scent of herbs and smoke rose up, something grounding and powerful, a blend to hold Everly steady in the face of what haunted her.

“Don’t be scared, Everly,” I said softly, keeping my voice calm and steady. It was an old habit, meant to soothe, but I could see by the way her shoulders tensed at my words they hadn’t helped. I only hoped Everly knew me well enough to trust I meant no harm.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost wary. Before she could react, I smudged the dark paste across her forehead, leaving a mark just above the bridge of her nose. Her eyes widened as the warm paste touched her skin, and I saw her shiver as if a chill ran through her.

The air shifted then, and whatever had possessed me went still. My guides’ presence softened as though they’d finally settled, and I knew we’d done enough. Whatever shadow Hudson’s death had left behind had lifted, and Everly’s spirit was clearer, lighter. My shoulders relaxed, the tension finally draining from my neck as I offered her a gentle smile.

“There,” I nodded, “your third eye is open now. That should do the trick.”

If everyone could see the world as she could now—with the third eye opened wide—they’d understand just how much more there was to life than what meets the physical eye. I reckoned that the world would be a better place if folks could see the connections, energy, and spirits that lingered around us all, offering guidance if only we’d look and listen. She might not know it yet, but she’d been given a gift, and I knew I’d done what needed doing. Everly’s path was a little clearer, her burden a little lighter. For now, that was enough.

With the danger now past, I turned to young David, who’d come to help me with some landscaping and watched the whole thing with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Come, young man,” I said to him with a little wink, “show me what you have planned for our little oasis by the lake.”