In front of us was a two-story white house with a black roof. I didn't have to ask because I knew it was my home.
"Why…"
"I have a soul to collect. You stay here. Promise me you won't do anything you shouldn't."
I hurriedly nodded. August and I usually got people's names in New York. He most likely asked to swap places with another grim reaper. Whatever the case, it was a good chance to see my parents.
After receiving my confirmation, August blinked.
While looking at my own house, I held my hand tightly. How long had I been gone? How many months had I become just a memory for them?
The grass was completely covered in snow. If it had been before, Jamie and I would have built a massive snowman in front of the house. There was nothing typical about this snowman. Jamie was always making the snowman's face appear nasty. He painted two red rocks for the snowman's eyes and gave him a carrot for a typical nose. However, his mouth was snarling. Every time a group of kids walked by our house, the kids would scream and Jamie, who was watching from the living room window, would laugh hysterically.
It was long time ago.
The peace and quiet house scared me. What if they decided to sell the house?
A picture of me on my graduation day displayed in the living room, I immediately felt at ease, as if I had come home again. The heating in the room was turned on, suggesting that someone was present. The quantity of photos on top of the faux fireplace had grown. There used to be only graduation pictures and a picture of our family having a picnic in the park, but suddenly there was a photo of me shot by Jamie when I was studying postgraduate. Although the photo was taken with a phone and the resolution was best for a 4x6" print, I understood why they went with this particular shot. I wore a red knit sweater my mom made and a black beanie my dad gave me for Christmas, and Jamie was there as well, even though he wasn't in the shot. In spite of the fact that we were no longer together, the photo served as a constant reminder of the good times we shared.
I could hear footsteps approaching. My dad walked to the couch with three clementines in his hand. His pace was noticeably slower than I had recalled. The skin above his eyes and on his forehead was deeply creased. As time went on, more and more of his hair became white. My dad wore a navy long-sleeve shirt and long loose-fitting black slacks. When I saw him wearing the slippers I had given him, I couldn't help but smiled.
My dad turned on the television made me realized it was Saturday, which meant others were also at home. I took a seat close to my dad on the sofa. He looked up, startled, and turned to face me. His brow furrowed in concentration. His eyes were fixed on mine. From my father's point of view, there was on one there. I straightened up and stayed put until my dad turned back to the TV and resumed eating clementines.
I needed to be caution. They would have felt or sensed something even if they couldn't see me.
I hadn't watched television with him in a long time. After starting college, I seemed to have spent a lot less time with my family.
My dad became more agitated when a television program switched to the news. He sat up straight, his gaze fixed.
News after news, but not the kind he was expecting to see.
"Nothing new?"
My mom entered the living room with a sandwich on a dish. I hastily stood up as she prepared to take my seat.
My dad nodded, and she sighed. They discussed my case. I was heartbroken to see them in pain, but at least they were still together. I'd seen families split apart when a child died.
"I know this place. Why did you bring me here?"
A man's voice came from the corridor. August entered the living with the spirit he had just collected.
"Lily."
"Matt," I was surprised to find Jamie's friend in such a state. "What happened to you?"
The golden-haired young man scratched his head and smiled dryly as he did every time when he made a mistake.
"What about you? Why are you here? Are you a grim reaper?" He stared at August and me. When his look returned to me, there was sadness in his eyes. "Did you come here for a visit?"
"How are they?"
"They are stronger than you think. You know how your mother is. She doesn't like it when people feel sorry for her. She still bakes bakery for us as usual. Jamie and our friends set off fireworks for you on New Year's Eve. Did you see it?"
Unfortunately, the dead were unable to see what the living were doing for them.
"What about Jamie?"
Matt's expression changed.
"What happened to him?"
"No. Nothing."
"Matt," I looked at his dazed expression before hurriedly made my way to Jamie's room on the second floor.
His room was in the same condition as I remembered. On the wall above the desk, I noticed a board with news clips about the Carver case and the red thread. This board looked just like the one at Detective Carhart's residence. Jamie had less information than the cops did. Even so, it revealed the depth of his obsession.
"He gathered all information concerning your case after police discovered another victim last month." Matt elaborated. His look indicated that he was familiar with the board. "Jamie said that if he doesn't stop the murderer, no one will."
"Jamie."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing and seeing. On the board was a New York City map with a red cross marking the spot where the body was discovered, and the area police believed to be the crime scene. He learned everything he could through the media, specifically the TV, the newspaper, and the internet.
"He should be prepared for college."
Each time I returned home, I didn't feel any better.
"Where is he now?" Matt shook his head, but I knew my brother's friend like he was my own. "Don't lie to me, Matt, if something happens to him."
He averted his gaze.
"Matt."
He sighed.
"He mentioned going to New York. He claimed that he couldn't do anything here."
I shifted my gaze to August. He shook his head as he realized what I wanted to do.
"If we're done here, let's go back."
I opened my mouth, then closed it and walked back down to the living room. Dad was still watching TV and eating a sandwich made by mom. I went into the kitchen to see her. I was always there to assist her when she was doing the dishes. Even though Matt stated my mom was a strong woman, her pale face was visible when she was alone. Her eyes were concerned. She has lost her daughter. I would not allow her to lose her son. Whatever Jamie had planned, I had to find a way to stop him. If he went to New York, there was a chance we'd run into each other. I prayed his name didn't come up.
"Let's go." I informed August.
"Can I come with you?" Matt asked the question excitedly.
I smiled dryly at him. We blinked to the void and said goodbye. In the midst of our embrace, Matt spoke to me softly.
"Jamie probably staying in your apartment."
I gazed at him as he stepped inside the wooden door. Then August and I returned to Jericho.
"Thank you for letting me see my parents."
"I don't have to worry about you, do I?" He asked seriously.
It would be a deception if the response was no. I chose to smile instead. It wasn't difficult for him to pick up on the clue. August simply squeezed my right shoulder and went away. He did not warn or forbid me as he always did. His touch was encouraging rather than intimidating.
It was no longer just about me. Whatever Jamie had planned, I had to keep him safe. The murderer was a really dangerous person. If something were to happen to my younger brother, I would never be able to forgive myself.