“You didn’t see the apparition?”
“No,” Mel whispered.
“Someone roll back the footage,” Brendon barked.
“S-She touched me, and it was like I was pulled into the past. I was in a field, and there were all these people, marching in a line. An earthquake split the ground open, and they moved toward the hole. They started to look sickly, growing thinner until they literally began to rot.” She winced at the vivid memory.
“Were they all African Americans? I didn’t find anything that mentioned a massacre,” a voice said from behind her.
“Not all of them, but most.”
“They were immigrants,” Micah croaked.
“A mass grave. Holy shit. I think we found another potter’s field.”
“Harry Potter, what?” Daize mumbled.
“If that’s the case, no blessing will help. They need to be acknowledged and laid to rest,” another person said.
“Does anyone want to clue me in on what the hell is going on?” Daize rose, propping herself up on her elbows.
“A potter’s field is a burial ground for paupers and strangers. Back in those times, African Americans may have been free, but many saw them as less than human. Therefore, they weren’t allowed to be buried in cemeteries.”
“That’s horrific. Why aren’t we taught this in class?”
“Because people like to pretty up history as much as possible,” Maria said vehemently.
“They’ve found a number of potter’s graves around the downtown area. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it.”
“Because our heads don’t usually go to mass graves,” Micah mumbled.
“Are you okay?” I glanced over to see him sprawled on the couch.
He nodded his head. “We need a machine that can look through layers and get proof.”
I’m never going to get my home back. Daize flopped back down on the couch and inhaled.
“What do I do in the meantime?” Daize asked, interrupting their excited chatter.
> “You can’t stay here. I know you’re tired of living out of a bag, but we can’t predict how the spirits will respond. We know they can touch you, and the whole dreaming while awake thing concerns me,” Micah said. The lack of warmth in his tone made her wary. Was he really good at acting in front of others, or had he gotten what he was after—an answer to a haunting, and a more intriguing case? Did I trust this man too quickly? Her head spun with unanswered questions and uncertainty. She liked her world with a fair amount of order. With everything turned upside down, she lost the center that allowed her to go with the flow.
Her muscles were tight, her head was so full it felt like she had cotton between her ears, and her emotions were all over the place. She was saddened by the way the deceased had been discarded like refuse, and angry that they choose to make her suffer for it. Lost in the buzz of excitement sweeping through the room, she felt normalcy slipping further and further away.
EXHAUSTED, SHE STUDIED Micah. He’d been odd since they returned home. The take-away dinner from Panera was ingested in a strange silence.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Micah glanced up. “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah. Do you want to talk about what you saw?”
“No,” he barked. She jerked. “I’m sorry, Daize. I guess I’m still spooked,” he admitted bashfully.
“I get it.” She forced a smile. His answer sounded disingenuous. Suddenly uneasy, she stood. “I’m going to get ready for bed, and then crash. I feel a headache trying to come on, and I need to function at work tomorrow.”
“Do you need anything?”
“You’ve done plenty.”