Double Vision by Colby Marshall Page A

suppose the possibility comforted them. Ghosts, however, were doomed to a life of seeing but not being part of the world.”
    â€œI see,” Jenna replied. It
did
sound awful. Seeing Ayana but not being able to talk to her, to touch her. She shook the thought away. “How did Charon land this special little job?”
    â€œEh, I don’t think it’s ever really told how the task came to him, though it no doubt happened in the same manner most of the gods acquired charge of their realm: either through being born with the inherent role, or by overthrowing the god or supernatural being who possessed it before them. Some artwork depicts Charon as a decrepit old man, but most portrayals allege he was more something of a demon than a human.”
    Jenna closed her eyes for a second, swallowing the tepid potatoes in her mouth. Try as she might to force a color to flash in, none would come. Only discerning the colors her mind brought forth was an ability she could master. Grapheme–color synesthesia wasn’t a skill or talent, no matter how much she wished it was at times. It simply
was
 . . . or, as in this moment, it wasn’t.
    â€œYou know,” Dr. Etkin said, scooping banana pudding into his mouth, “one idea you might consider would be talking to Brody Gallagher. Teaches religion here. He’d be a wealth of knowledge on the numerological implications of the number three. Occurs a ton in Greek mythology surrounding deities, but it’s a common integer in many religions. He might be able to give you even more insight than I on the Greeks and the numbers as they relate to deities.”
    An eggplant purple flashed in as the word religion hit Jenna’s ears. She put down her fork. “How can I find him?”

13
    M olly twirled her spaghetti around her fork. She’d had plenty, but Liam always insisted the whole family stay seated at the table until everybody finished. He said it was only polite.
    Three witches in
Macbeth.
Three books in a trilogy. Three movies in a trilogy. The Three Musketeers. The Three Bears. The Three Little Pigs.
    â€œThere sure are a lot of stories that use it, too,” she said, rolling a noodle between her thumb and forefinger.
    â€œUse what, love?” Liam asked.
    Molly glanced at her mother. As usual, her mom was quiet, staring at her food like it could help change everything that had happened. She looked back at Liam.
    â€œThree.
Three Blind Mice, Three Billy Goats Gruff. Three Little Kittens Who Lost Their Mittens.
”
    Her stepfather looked back to his plate and sawed at his meat. “A lot of books have numbers in their titles, Molly.
A Tale of Two Cities
,
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
,
Around the World in Eighty Days
 . . .”
    â€œBut those aren’t threes,” Molly replied as she lifted one noodle at a time to drape over her fork. “Dr. Ramey was most interested in three.”
    Ever since Dr. Ramey left, Molly had been racking her brain for what she knew about the number three that might help Dr. Ramey. She wasn’t really sure what the doctor was looking for, but she understood it was to do with what happened at the grocery store. She could tell that somehow Dr. Ramey needed to peg something special about the number three so she could figure out who had hurt all the people at Lowman’s. She wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t. Molly knew a lot about numbers. She was positive she could help Dr. Ramey, if only she could think of the right three.
    â€œMolly, Dr. Ramey will come and ask you if there’s anything else she needs. Stop playing with your food.”
    Molly dropped the noodle she was holding and lowered her fork to her plate. She bit her lip. Liam was just like all grown-ups who thought kids couldn’t really help adults with anything important. Of course he was confident Dr. Ramey didn’t need her ideas.
    But just because her stepdad was sure didn’t