2 Corinthians 4:18

Who: Charlotte
When: All afternoon, some of the evening
Where: Auburn Hills, Michigan

At the very least, Charlotte had gotten used to people looking at her like she was crazy.

It had started at a rest stop, where she'd taken a break to let Anna relieve herself. And then Anna had crawled under the car and refused to come out until Charlotte ate something. Charlotte had crouched down on the pavement and argued with her - loudly - until Anna pointed out that she was talking to a dog and people were looking at her like she was seven kinds of crazy. Wisely, Charlotte had stopped talking back and forced down some crackers. She was officially being babysat by a dog. She had worried that this was going to set the tone for the entire trip. Thankfully, once they reached Charlotte's old hometown, Anna took to simply sitting in the backseat and keeping quiet.

Charlotte's first stop was the house she grew up in. It had only been a few months, but it already looked so different. There was no snow down here, not yet, but when Charlotte and her mom had lived here, it had seemed so much more... green. Alive, somehow. Now it was just a house.

No one was home, so she let herself in the gate through the backyard to look around. But she still had no idea what she was looking for. Logically, she knew her dad wasn't just going to be hanging out in the backyard. But she looked anyway. When she started to doubt herself, she peeked in through all the windows. Naturally, that was the time the new owners came home. Luckily enough, they recognized Charlotte and didn't call the cops on her.

Charlotte had sucked it up and explained to them exactly what she was doing there, and asked if they'd had a ghost. They had been... properly horrified. At which point Charlotte decided it would be wise to leave, but she left her phone number in case anyone 'showed up'.

If he wasn't there, where would he be? Not knowing what else to do, Charlotte went about visiting every place that might have been a possibility. First, her parents old high school, where they had met. When she got there, it was still during school hours, so after a deep breath, she'd gone straight to the principal's office to explain her situation. She came prepared. When she had packed her bag, she had thrown in a photo-album, and she brought pictures of her dad in to show. The school had several ghosts, but the principal didn't recognize her dad. As she had at her house, she left her phone number just in case - this time, written on the back of a photograph of her dad. This became the system. She went to every vague possibility and left photographs, all with her number and a message written on the back. Charlotte is looking for you. Call his daughter.

Next she visited her elementary school, where she had been when her dad was shot. Then the neighborhood her dad grew up in. She didn't remember the exact house, so she let her gut pick a few houses at random to leave pictures with. Charlotte is looking for you. The church where her parents had gotten married, and where his funeral had later been. She left pictures with pastors and church-goers alike. Call his daughter.

Next came the police station. There she spoke with her father's old chief - who recognized Charlotte, and listened to her with sorrowful eyes. His voice cracked when she left a picture to be passed around. She left as soon as possible, feeling like everyone there was watching her, and thinking the same thing. Poor kid. She's not going to find him.

In the parking lot, heading back to her car, she'd had to pause as she realized she was out of 'significant' places. She didn't know what else to try. For a minute a black cloud loomed over her shoulder, threatening to seize her and chase away all hope. Her shoulders felt heavy with it. She ran to her car at top speed, as if she could outrun it. From there on she drove with no destination in mind, whilst simultaneously avoiding the two places she knew she hadn't checked yet.

The first, was the convenience store where her father had been shot down. She'd avoided it all her life, and now she hurried through it, leaving a picture with a girl behind the counter and getting out of there as quickly as possible.

Then... she tried places at random. If she drove past a location that triggered a memory with her father in it, she stopped, and passed out pictures. She went through pages of them at a time. She continued in this way for hours, until fate or her own unconscious mind caused her to drive past where she'd been avoiding. The cemetery She had parked the car in the road, and there she sat, staring at the gates. Minutes passed, and her mind was blank. She just stared.

Why are you so afraid to go in there? Anna's voice in her head surprised her, as she had been utterly silent ever since they'd entered Auburn Hills. And the question itself surprised her as well. It meant she had to think about the answer. She did her best to keep her thoughts from herself, and Anna never let on as to whether or not she heard them.

If I go in there, and he's not there... that's it. There's nothing else to do, and he's not here. He's not coming back. And I'll really never see him again. Was being able to hold on to hope more important than anything else? She'd only had it a day, and now she realized she was utterly terrified to lose it.

If he's out there, I have to find him. No matter what's happened or where he is, he can't be alone. He has to know someone is thinking about him. That thought in mind, she got out of the car.

She remembered the way to his grave. When she had lived here, she had visited it twice a year with her mother. On his birthday, and on the day he died. It was in a nice place, and near a big oak tree. When she reached his headstone it was under the shade. She stared at it for a long minute, as if she had never seen before. The moment felt... so heavy.

She raised her head and looked around, and realized there was a ghost only a few plots away. His clothes decades old, and he had a white beard. He was staring sadly at the grave of a woman named Margaret, beloved wife and mother, who had died in May of 1956. Hesitating a moment, Charlotte approached him. She hadn't tried to communicate with any of the ghosts, but one of the reports said it was easier to do in cemeteries

He raised his head when Charlotte neared, and he turned his head towards her. Their eyes met, and Charlotte stood still. Amazed that her hands did not shake, she pulled a picture out of her bag. It was a picture Charlotte herself had taken of her dad, on a trip to one of the lakes. He was looking out over the water with a big smile on his face. She held it out to the ghost, knowing he couldn't actually take it. "Have you seen this man?"

She wasn't at all sure it would work, but after staring at her a few seconds longer, he lowered his eyes to study the picture. His expression was blank, and never changed much. Finally, he lowered his eyes and shook his head. Charlotte's shoulders felt heavy again. She nodded lightly, and turned to head back to her father's grave.

Charlotte knelt down at his grave and tried to let go. Through this, she heard herself speaking.

"Hi, Daddy." she started in a whisper. "...You're not here." He knew that, but it still felt so wrong. Everything she had felt as a child was back in full-force. The need to throw herself down and scream that it wasn't fair was strong and heavy. How could he be gone?

"I don't know where you are." she continued. "But I don't think you're stuck here. And that's good. I'm... very selfish." she struggled with. "Because as much as I know it would be bad for you to be trapped here, and that it's a good thing if you've passed over, or whatever it is we're supposed to do, if you were here, it would mean I could see you again. And you could see me. And that maybe you've been there all along, watching me grow up. And we could find a way to talk about everything I've always wanted to talk to you about. And I could know... if I make you proud."

She'd been struggling with emotion, and it had only gotten worse as she went on. Her shoulders shook along with her bottom lip as she dug her hands in the earth for comfort. "I miss you so much." she forced out.

She was not going to cry. She forbade herself to lose hold of herself. She took a minute to close her eyes and breathe deeply, and try to reign it all back in.

"I'm glad you're not here." she finally managed, which was such a hard thing to say. It felt blasphemous, even if it was true. "I hope you're somewhere better. That's what matters. That, and that you were here with me, once. And..." Again, she tried to force herself to let go. But she couldn't. A thought distracted her, as she realized there were no flowers on his grave. This felt... so wrong. She had never come to his grave empty-handed before. For a moment the realization left her in a panic.

But she did have something to leave. The same thing she'd been handing out all day. She took one of her last pictures, and her pen, and wrote her final message.

Your daughter loves you with all her heart. I know you're still with me, wherever you are, and I will never forget what it means to be your daughter.

She wedged the picture in between the earth and the headstone, but still didn't feel finished. She pulled the album out again, and found a picture of herself and her dad together, one of the last pictures she had before he died. They were both so happy. She could see so much of his features in her now. She had his smile.

She put that picture with the other one, and after another moment of hesitation, headed back to the car. She got in the driver's seat and put her bag on the floor beneath the passenger seat, and went to put her key in the ignition before the dam finally broke. Just a few tears at first, as she let go of everything she'd been carrying around all day. Then the tears took her over as she held herself and slumped against the steering wheel. She didn't try to stop this time, or reign herself back in. She let it all out. In time, Anna moved from the backseat to lay at her side, her head on Charlotte's knee. They stayed that way for a long time, even after Charlotte cried herself out. Neither one of them said anything. Charlotte didn't even try to think, she just let everything sit, as she watched the sun set.

A surprised movement from Anna roused her attention, and she realized her left shoulder felt icy cold. She gasped and turned around, realizing a semi-transparent hand was on her shoulder. She looked up and out the window to see the man with the white beard. He looked sad, still, but there was understanding in his eyes.

Stunning Charlotte, he spoke. It did not seem easy for him, like every word was taking a lot of effort. "I am sorry you didn't find who you were looking for."

And as easy as that, she realized that she had. Just not in the way she had expected. He was still with her. She nodded faintly as she stared up at him. "I'm sorry you didn't find Margaret." They held eye contact for several long moments, before he drew his hand back and walked back into the cemetery

Anna looked up at Charlotte. Are you ready to go home? It was so tempting to just find a place to sleep and worry about it tomorrow, but Charlotte knew she had to get back to Marquette. She nodded. "Let's go home."