Chapter Three
THE four of them stood together in the tiny bedroom. White netting hung down around the canopy bed in the center of the room. Cheryl had wanted a bed just like this when she was a little girl. The slightest tingle of a presence pricked Cheryl’s senses. Wanting desperately to be able to help, she said, “I think there is something here.” She narrowed her eyes as if doing so would help her see the ghost.
“You feel something?” Tawana asked.
“I think so.” Sometimes Cheryl’s senses became muddled, and she wasn’t sure if what she felt came from an outside entity or if she was making herself feel something because she so desperately wanted to. She walked around the room, touching the surfaces: the top of the bookshelf, the little desk in the corner, the white bedspread covered wit
