“She was suspended in the air for long seconds until the force lowered her gently to solid ground again. She sagged against the wall, dragging in blessed air, sure to the marrow of her bones that she had escaped death. For an eternity she heard nothing except the sawing of her own breath in and out. Then a new sound came to her. Like a voice carried on a summer breeze. Or whispered by a phantom. “Isabella?” She went very still, wondering if the roaring in her ears was from the rushing of her own... blood. “Isabella?” This time she was sure she heard her name, but she saw no one. “Yes,” she breathed. She was alone out here in the desert, but who had spoken? Was it really a ghost, like before? She’d been six when Nana Maria had died back in San Marcos. Her grandmother had been bedridden for six months, and there was nothing the doctors could do for her. Isabella sensed her parents’ relief when the long ordeal finally ended. She loved Nana very much, and they’d been close, but nobody took her to the hospital for visits, and she never got a chance to say good-bye.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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