The Lost Sister by Megan Kelley Hall

join her she’d swear Cordelia to secrecy because they knew that Rebecca and Abigail would nail the windows shut to prevent them from sneaking out and having those peaceful moonlit moments together.
    Tess said she’d been doing that for years, ever since her husband, Jack—Cordelia’s grandfather—was lost at sea.
    “I’m never lonely,” Tess told her. “As long as I am connected by the stars and the sea, Jack’s always with me. People say that the dead don’t live among us, but they do. You just have to call out to them. Let them know that you want to keep that connection with them into the next realm, and they’ll stay with you forever. Most people are just afraid to do it, and the ones you love—like my Jack and your father, Simon—don’t want to scare you off. But if you are open and willing, they’ll never leave your side. You just need these quiet moments to connect with them, and they’ll seek you out. Never forget that.”
    Then Tess would joke about how when she passed over to the other side, she’d come and bug Maddie, Cordelia, Rebecca—even Abigail—whether they wanted her around or not.
    But she knew that Abigail would never believe it. “I could stand behind her and slam doors, pots, and pans and she’d find some excuse—the wind or termites or the creaking of the old house. She’d never let herself open to the idea of an afterlife.”
    Cordelia rarely got those moments of trying to connect with her father. When she got a dreamy, sad look on her face at the shop, Rebecca would hoist a broom or a dust rag in her hand, saying, “You can’t be sad if you’re keeping busy by cleaning, so get to it.”
    She knew that it was her mother’s way of protecting Cordelia, but she didn’t need protecting. At least, she never thought she did.
    Cordelia mentioned that to Reed one day after class. He offered his boat as an escape and said that if she ever needed to get away—even for a few hours—she could always go out onto his ship, lie out beneath the stars, read, write, have a glass of wine (“Don’t tell anyone, or I’d get in some deep shit,” he’d joke), and just escape for a little while.
    Reed had found a place in her heart. He knew she had a little crush on him. But he’d never cross that line, he told her. “Sixteen could get me twenty,” he joked, even when she told him that she was a very mature sixteen-year-old.
    Cordelia was lying on the stern of the boat watching the stars blink at her in the inky sky. The sky stretched out clear around her, stars like pinholes backlit in a black canvas. She had found a bottle of wine in the cabin and had helped herself to a few glasses of Merlot. The rocking of the boat, the gentle lapping of the waves, the warmth of the alcohol wrapped her in a gauzy haze. She felt that she could reach out and touch heaven and her father’s hand would reach right back and grasp her tightly. She could hear her father’s voice, gently warning her about staying out too much longer on the boat.
    “I won’t fall in, Daddy,” Cordelia said, laughing. She could almost see his eyes within the patterns of the stars, looking down on her, concerned.
    “Who’s your daddy?” a voice came from behind her.
    She turned to see that it was Trevor—not Reed—who had joined her on the boat. Perhaps at that point she should have trusted her instincts and left, but she didn’t feel any fear. She figured that Reed would be along shortly and she’d only have to tolerate his annoying younger brother for a little while.
    He grabbed the bottle of wine she’d been drinking, inspecting it and then taking a long slug. “You’ve got expensive taste. Does my brother know you’re raiding his liquor cabinet?”
    She nodded.
    “Then you must be something pretty special, because Reed Campbell doesn’t like to part with his liquor very easily. What makes you so special, Cordelia?”
    It was said in a lighthearted tone, but Cordelia sensed that there was a bit of anger