Ghostlight Read Online Free Page A

tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow’s Sunday. There’s church and Grandma’s Bible lesson and all that. We’re not supposed to go visiting on Sundays.”
    “Okay. Monday, then. In the meantime, you could do some work for the film.” He leaned forward. “Since you’re spending all day with your grandma tomorrow, ask her when Hilliard House was built and why nobody lives there anymore. Try to find out everything she knows about the place.”
    I shook my head. “She’ll get suspicious for sure.”
    “Not if you ask the questions in the right way.”
    “I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
    Julian was quiet for a moment.
    “Storytellers are artists,” he finally said, “and every artist has to take risks.” He held my gaze. “Trust me, it’s a super-cool film location. And you’re a local expert. I need you on this, Avery.”

Grandma’s church had the skimpiest congregation I’d ever seen.
Twelve
people, and none of them younger than her. It was a very conservative church, too, which meant the women only opened their mouths during the hymns. Grandma sure liked to belt it out when it came time to sing, but she had a little trouble staying in tempo. I asked her once why the church didn’t have a piano, and Grandma said, “We only offer the fruit of our lips in praise, Avery May. There’s no need to add instruments to what Christ’s spirit made perfect.”
    I just happened to think a piano would keep everyone on track, not to mention liven things up a bit. She didn’t care to hear that, though.
    After the service, Grandma drove us home for kitchen-table Sunday school, seeing as Sycamore Road Church of Christ didn’t exactly cater to kids. When the lesson came to an end, Grandma said a long and meaningful prayer that stirred up a decent amount of spiritual feeling in me. Then,
finally,
it was time for lunch.
    Which was good, because I was starving. But it was bad, too, because I had to ask Grandma about Hilliard House without her popping a vein. It needed to come up naturally, as part of a casual conversation. That meant letting Blake in on it, too.
    I swallowed a bit of chili with corn bread and took a deep breath. “So…Grandma?”
    “Are you meaning to ask me a question, Avery May?”
    So much for
natural.
    “Yes, ma’am.” I cleared my throat. “The other day when Julian Wayne and I were walking around the farm, he took an interest in that old Hilliard House. He wanted to know more about it, but I didn’t know its history.”
    Grandma considered me for a moment. “You didn’t take him near it, did you? You know I don’t want anyone messing with that house.”
    Blake chuckled. “How could we forget after the stunt Avery pulled?”
    Grandma’s hard gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not safe. And it looks like I finally have a buyer to take it off my hands. The last thing I need is kids running around breaking things.”
    “He just wanted to know if it was built before the Civil War.”
    Grandma settled back in her chair and looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure Hilliard House was built after the Civil War.” Her brow wrinkled. “There was a building in the same spot before that—a smaller frame house, I think, but it burned down.”
    “Did anyone die in the fire?” I asked.
    “That’s a gruesome question. I honestly don’t know.”
    “Grandma, why didn’t you and Grandpa live in Hilliard House?” Blake asked. “It’s on your property. Seems like you’d want to live in a big house like that, looking out over the river and all.”
    Grandma put down her half-eaten corn stick. “It wasn’t ours to live in.”
    Blake frowned. “Why not?”
    “That’s a long story.”
    “Can we hear it?” I prompted. “Please?”
    “
May
you hear it, Avery May.” She wiped her mouth. “The Hilliards have owned this land for a long time, but it didn’t pass down as a whole from the first Hilliard to his first son, and then on to that Hilliard’s first son. Instead, it was broken up into