By Mara Purnhagen
I cannot flow ahead with my lifestyles, until eventually i do know my demons are restricted to the past…Being Charlotte Silver, the daughter of recognized paranormal investigators, capability my existence isn't the same as that of alternative teenage ladies. specially after what occurred to my mom and dad. issues replaced. I neglected promenade and deferred my gigantic collage plans. yet I nonetheless have my boyfriend, Noah. he is every little thing i'll want—if i will work out what is up with him. abruptly Noah is secretive.I worry it has anything to do with what occurred to us 3 months in the past. The bruise Noah suffered in the course of a mystical assault hasn't ever thoroughly pale. Now i have realized Noah is studying demons. And while he disappears, it is as much as me to discover him—before anything else does.
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Extra info for Beyond the Grave
It was strange to wake up each morning to a quiet house, but even stranger was the absence of anyone sitting at a computer with earphones on, editing footage. There was something so unsettling and somber about those blank computer screens that I tried to avoid the living room completely. It was no longer the heart of our house; instead, it was more like a sort of graveyard, with the monitors serving as tombstones. One evening, Shane pulled me aside. “I need to complete the DVD your parents were working on before everything happened,” he told me after dinner at Trisha’s apartment.
He was looking at the street. “Don’t worry,” I assured him. ” Dante responded by crouching down. His eyes were still focused on the street, trained toward the top of the hill, but I didn’t see anything unusual. ” I tugged at the leash, and Dante whimpered again. “I can see my house from here. ” As I was debating whether to drag him up the hill or carry him, a car came into view. Sunlight glared off the windshield, so I couldn’t see the driver. The car crawled forward slowly, as if the driver was searching for a particular address and was afraid he’d go too far and miss it.
There was no reason to tell Dad anything. He had enough to worry about, and if the demented driver was simply an embarrassed fan, I would be causing him unnecessary stress. Dad sat in a chair across from Dante while I placed a pile of smoked turkey on a napkin. “So, I’ve decided to go see Mom,” he said. “I’m leaving in an hour. ” A trip to see Mom took hours. We wouldn’t return until close to midnight. ” Dad nodded. “Right. Of course. ” He had forgotten. I placed the meat in front of Dante, who sniffed at it, then began to lick it.