Indelible by Lani Woodland Read Free Book Online Page B

lock when the door swung open.
    “Yara!” Mom’s blue eyes flared with joy as she grabbed me and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. My family was big on hugs.
    “Is that my querida?” Vovó’s voice called. I couldn’t help but smile at her nickname for me. Dear one, beloved. Vovó was loving with everyone, but she only used that nickname on me.
    Mom pushed the door open wider and ushered us inside. Even after a year-long absence, the house smelled the same, like my mother’s favorite vanilla scented candles and the yeasty smell of fresh, homemade bread. Vovó walked down the hall wearing her gardening clothes and carrying a basket of herbs.
    “Our poor garden is so neglected,” she informed my mother with a tsk before giving me her own hug. I breathed in her familiar scent of orchids, sweet and musty.
    “Mom, Vovó, this is Brent,” I said, pulling myself away and putting my arm around Brent’s waist.
    Brent stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Silva.”
    “Brooke, please,” Mom said, taking his hand in both of hers.
    Vovó pursed her lips, examining Brent from head to toe. “Ah, Brent. The boy who distracted Yara from her training this summer.” Then her face broke out in a grin, her laugh lines crinkling around her eyes. She winked at Brent. “I can see why now.”
    “Vovó!”
    “I’ve got eyes, Querida.” She pulled Brent into a hug, careful not to touch his back with her dirty hands. “It’s good to meet you. Come, come.” She guided him into the kitchen, dropped her basket onto the kitchen counter, and washed the garden soil from her hands. Mom went to the stove and stirred the pan. The smell of sizzling onions and garlic hung in the air and teased my taste buds, making my stomach growl.
    Brent sat at the battered wooden table, tracing one of the many indentations where a family member had pounded with a fork or spoon while making a point. Our family dinners were never boring. I leaned against the granite counter, taking in the room. It all felt so familiar. A feeling of homesickness hit me. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being in my own home.
    The kitchen’s tan walls were broken up by long windows with a patchwork of natural light streaming through. One wall held so many unframed pictures that they seemed like wallpaper, hiding the wall’s true color. We had a family room but we always ended up in the kitchen, snacking and talking about our days. Its walls were more than sheetrock and plaster, they were part of our home and had soaked up the memories that had been formed here. I was so lost in the feeling of home I almost didn’t want to talk about what was on my mind. But I knew I had to get it over with.
    “I saw an unusual ghost yesterday,” I began without prelude. The atmosphere in the room suddenly turned. Elation came from one half and alarm radiated from the other. Brent and I were caught in the middle. He shifted forward in his seat, his eyes watching the reactions around him.
    “You saw another ghost?” Mom asked, her spoon pausing in the pan of rice she was frying. “Please tell me it wasn’t at school.”
    “It wasn’t.”
    “Thank goodness.” Mom sighed. “I don’t think I could handle knowing you were in danger again. Wait. Please tell me it wasn’t an angry, murdered spirit.”
    I squirmed uneasily as I intently studied the countertop.
    Mom’s face paled, her wooden spoon raised to her chest. “Is it an angry, murdered spirit?”
    I quickly added, “I don’t know for sure that she was murdered.”
    “Oh, Yara!”
    I ignored her and continued on. “She fell down a flight of stairs. But, rumor has it she was pushed. That’s where I saw her, by the stairs at the alumni house. She’s been guarding something for almost hundred years and had it hidden in a safe place. I found it.”
    “What was it?” Mom raised her hand to her mouth and leaned forward like she was watching an exciting scene in a movie. I shared an amused look with