The Visitor by Amanda Stevens

directly at me as if to acknowledge my notice. The sensation was so creepy and invasive I took a step back, my heart flailing.
    As I stood there enthralled, she threw back her head and opened her mouth wide as if to call to someone—or to something—unseen. But the sound that sprang from her throat was more insect than human. Like the rattle of a cicada, plaintive and chilling.

Thirteen
    S everal moments passed and still I couldn’t tear my attention from the wall, even though the silhouette had disappeared into the deeper shadows.
    Nelda Toombs was still chatting away beside me, oblivious to anything amiss. But suddenly it came to me that the smock-like jacket she wore over her dress not only covered her shriveled body, but also disguised what most would assume was a dowager’s hump on her back.
    One of the twins died. The other was so distraught that she tried to hide her sister’s passing by using cloves to cover up the smell.
    Even as Dr. Shaw’s words came back to me, even as I turned to once again search the shadows, I reminded myself that sometimes the things I saw and heard and smelled really were products of my imagination. The sun had clouded my eyes and the shadowy form had been fleeting. Woods surrounded the cemetery. Wasn’t it possible that I’d heard an actual cicada?
    But what of that insect husk on my nightstand? What of that face in the stereogram, the voices in my head?
    Logic wasn’t going to work. I knew what I knew.
    â€œAre you all right?” Nelda asked in concern. “You look quite pale all of a sudden.”
    â€œI’m...still shaky from the fall, I guess. It was a little more serious than I let on to Dr. Shaw. In fact, I was just released from the hospital this morning.”
    â€œBless your heart. I don’t wonder you’re shaky. Perhaps you should be home resting.”
    I managed a faint smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m enjoying our conversation. And I must say, I’m very curious about the woman you say I look so much like.”
    Nelda’s expression turned wistful. “Rose was everything to us. Our protector and champion and the closest thing to a mother that Mott and I ever knew.”
    â€œMott was your sister?”
    â€œShe was so much more than that, Miss Gray. We were born conjoined, you see. She was a part of me. Closer even than a mirror twin.”
    I swallowed past the foreboding that bloomed in my throat. “Mott is such an unusual name. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it before.”
    â€œWhen we were little, I couldn’t pronounce Maudette so she became Mott and I was Neddy. We lost her many years ago.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œThank you, but in some ways it was a blessing. We had a difficult childhood, you see. Shunned and bullied because we were different. But...” An apologetic smile flashed. “That was a long time ago and, as Louvenia said, it has no bearing on why we’ve come to see you today. Besides, I’ve rambled on long enough and I think she’s ready to leave.”
    I glanced down the path to where Dr. Shaw and Louvenia still lingered. She scowled in our direction as though worried about what her sister might tell me.
    Nelda leaned in suddenly and put her hand on my arm. For a breathless moment, the scent of cloves overwhelmed me. “Come see me when you get to Isola. There are things about that cemetery you should know before you agree to the restoration.”
    â€œWhat things?”
    â€œNot here. Not with him watching.”
    I thought at first she meant Dr. Shaw, but then I noticed a young man just inside the gates. He stood with arms folded, back resting against the wall as he stared down the path to where we stood talking. I felt a chill go through me as our gazes connected, and I could have sworn I saw him smirk.
    He looked to be just shy of six feet and so slender he might have seemed delicate except for the undercurrent of