Chapter Twenty

Shock filled Kylie's chest. Jane had killed her baby? Was that why Jane had amnesia? The horror of what she'd done had been too much for her to bear?

Jane swerved toward Catherine and held both her fists up in front of her face, her body tight with fury. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not Berta! I did not kill my own child. I would never kill my baby. I loved my baby."

Catherine looked at Kylie. "She's confused. I think they gave her a lobotomy. Probably trying to fix her."

"I'm not Berta!" Jane Doe's scream rang so loud, Kylie flinched. "And I'm sick to death of hearing you call me that."

"Then what's your name?" Catherine spouted back.

Jane got tears in her eyes. "I don't know. I don't know who I am, I don't know what I am, but I know who I'm not. And I'm not Berta Littlemon. I think my baby died, but I didn't kill it. I was somebody's wife. Now I'm just lost. And empty. And dead." She turned and looked at Kylie as if remembering the vision. "Somebody killed me." Tears slipped down the woman's cheek and then she disappeared.

Kylie's chest filled with empathy. She got back to her feet, and while she felt inclined to believe Jane Doe, she'd come here to find answers. And to find them, she had to ask questions. "Why do you think she's Berta Littlemon?"

"I don't think, I know," Catherine said. Then she smiled. "And I'll tell you all I know if you'll do me a favor."

* * *

Kylie still stood by the grave of Berta Littlemon when Burnett walked over to join her about thirty minutes later. This time, he didn't inquire if she was okay. But then, he didn't have to ask. Kylie sensed he could guess she wasn't okay by the look of dismay on her face. Placing his hand lightly on her shoulder, he asked, "Was this ... helpful?"

"I don't know," Kylie said, confused and disturbed by what she'd learned from Catherine O'Connell. Sure, she'd gotten some information, but mostly all the trip to the Fallen Cemetery had accomplished was to underscore how little she knew about Jane Doe and how impossible it would be to help her.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded and they started walking toward the gate where Della stood, looking as ill at ease as she had the moment they'd first arrived. The crowd of spirits followed them, moving close but not crowding her.

"Will you come back?" whispered an older-sounding male spirit.

"Please, say you'll come," begged a younger female spirit.

"It's not fair," wailed another female. "Why does she have to leave now? I didn't get a chance to talk to her!"

Then all of the spirits began to talk at once, making it hard to understand them and bringing Kylie's headache back in full force. Through the crowd of voices, she was dimly aware of Ima, the old man's wife, walking from one small group of spirits to another and whispering something to them.

Kylie stopped and massaged her temples. "I'm sorry," she said, and she truly was.

Right now, all she wanted to do was run from them, run into the sunlight, ignore the shadows and pretend that they didn't exist. But even as she wanted to run away, she knew she couldn't. How could she when she felt their pain, their heartbreak, as intensely as she did her own? How could she when she knew they all had some kind of unfinished business they wanted resolved and she was their only chance to make that happen?

Still, she had to establish some boundaries or else she'd likely lose her mind the way Jane Doe obviously had.

And then Kylie wouldn't be able to help any of them.

"I have to leave now," she said. "You can't come with me. You need to stay here. But ... I will come back. I promise." It was a promise she intended to keep, but not one she looked forward to.

"I'm not coming back," Della said, and walked toward the car.

Burnett shot Kylie a worried look and she shook her head, indicating that she was fine. When they stepped out of the cemetery property and the spirits didn't follow, Kylie sighed with relief. She'd never appreciated the blast of Texas heat that swamped her as much as she did right now.

She glanced behind her at the cemetery. The spirits were still there, staring at her wordlessly. She wondered if her promise had been enough to convince them to stay behind, rather than follow her. Or if it had more to do with whatever message Ima had been whispering to them. Kylie felt a shiver move down her spine. She ignored it and walked with Burnett and Della to the car.

The drive back to Shadow Falls was short. They didn't speak. After Burnett parked, Kylie and Della crawled out of his black Mustang. Kylie locked her gaze with Burnett and asked if she could be relieved from camp activities for the rest of the day.

He hesitated and she was frightened he was going to say no, but then he frowned and asked, "Would Holiday say yes?"

Kylie nodded. "Yes," she answered with honesty. Helping ghosts was part of her job as a supernatural. Holiday would understand that, and the toll it took on her. The camp leader was probably the only one who would understand.

Burnett still paused. "Are you okay? Do you need to talk or anything?"

"No," Kylie said.

The relief showing in his face was almost comical. Obviously the idea of having to offer advice or commiserate about spirits didn't appeal to him. Kylie might have teased him about it if she weren't so wrapped up in what she'd learned. "I just want to do some stuff on my computer and check some of the facts I learned."