No! Maisie gave in! She gave in to her jealousy, grief, and fear. Maisie had destroyed Feya’s hopes and dreams—a girl who lost her home, best friend, and leg in a mere year.
“Maisie, you can’t dwell on this,” Melody stated, pointing in the direction Feya ran. “You need to go after her and apologize.”
Maisie sank into her seat. “I can’t. I don’t think I can ever face her again, Melody.”
“Yeah, that will be difficult when you’re suitemates.” Melody sighed. “I never had a friend in the College Program, Maisie. That’s why I can’t watch you two crumble like this.”
“Wait, you never had a friend?” That was hard to believe. Melody looked like the kind of person who would have tons of friends. While Maisie didn’t want friends when she started the DCP, she still met Feya.
“No one accepted me,” Melody added, “but Veracruz was always my go-to place to escape the CP.” She paused. “And then that day happened.”
“What day?” Maisie was eager to learn more, but Melody shook her head.
“Not now. Right now, you need to find Feya.”
“Where would she have run off to?”
“Maisie, it’s Feya.” Melody giggled. “Where would she go?”
Veracruz, Maisie thought. She collected Feya’s wheelchair and passed Antonio on her way out. “Sorry, Antonio, but we need to cancel dinner.”
“Of course, señorita,” he responded. “I understand, and I hope things work out with you and your friend. Villa Del Lago isn’t going anywhere.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind.” Maisie patted his shoulder. “I hope things work out, too. Come on, Melody and Daisy.”
Maisie, Daisy, and Melody nearly ran to Veracruz. There, they found Feya crying beside the piano, clutching her wrist.
Oh God! Maisie hurt her! Please say she didn’t break Feya’s wrist!
Melody ran off to get help, but Maisie remained with her fairy, who refused to look at her.
“I don’t wanna talk to you, Maisie.” Feya turned her back to her.
“Feya, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
She didn’t speak. Instead, she picked up Daisy and placed her on her lap.
Maisie noticed her bleeding wrist. “Feya, your wrist is bleeding.”
“And who’s fault is that?” she growled.
Maisie cringed.
“I thought so.” Feya scoffed.
Gosh, how was Maisie supposed to get out of this fluke? “Feya, it’s not that I don’t believe in spirits; I just see no evidence of the so-called Veracruz Ghost.”
“You have no idea, do you?” Feya stood and limped by Maisie. “She showed herself to us because we need help. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh?”
“What are you talking about?”
Feya said nothing else.
***
It was the strangest thing. Maisie, too, found herself drawn to Veracruz. Sleep was non-existent that night, so she got up around 3:00 a.m., pulled on her robe, and grabbed her room key. Feya shuffled, so Maisie remained quiet. However, she wondered if she was really asleep.
Maisie trekked to the Convention Center but paused when she reached Veracruz Hall.
She heard singing—beautiful, melodic singing that sounded like a siren. Not only that, but someone played Veracruz’s piano. How, though? When Maisie saw it earlier, the piano was locked. This was weird, but that singing was magical and Veracruz’s only other sound. Therefore, Maisie straightened and entered it.
The singing and piano playing stopped once she crossed into Veracruz’s second half. “Melody?” Maisie inquired when Melody appeared from behind the instrument. Her heart flipped like a pancake.
“Maisie!” Melody shut the piano’s top and tucked hair behind her left ear. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
“Better question. What are you doing here? How did you get into that piano?”
Melody rested her palm on it. “I love the piano. It’s my favorite instrument. I always play it when I can—usually late at night.”
“I didn’t know you played. Or sang.”
Melody smiled feebly. “Oh, I love music, Maisie. I wanted to be a musician, but no one in my family or the CP accepted me.”
“But why? You’re wonderful.”
Melody shut her eyes. “Let’s just say none of my family members, roommates, or co-workers liked the queer population.”
Why did she keep talking in the past tense? More importantly, what did she mean by “none of my family members, roommates, or co-workers liked the queer population”? Melody grew more mysterious by the second.
She inhaled and opened her eyes. Melody tapped her fingertips and brought her heels together. “You see, Maisie, not everyone at Disney values the Inclusion Key. You and Feya were fortunate. I returned to Coronado when I died because nobody, not even my family, mourned me. Mom had me at eighteen and was pregnant again three months after I died. I was a disgrace to my family because I’m queer, and I didn’t want to be with people like that.”
“Wait!” Maisie held up her hands. What do you mean ‘when I died’? Why are you talking in the past tense?” How much did her voice shake? Ghosts weren’t real, right? Please?
“Maisie…” Melody fell quiet, but then she nodded and met her blue eyes. “I-It’s me. I’m the Veracruz Ghost.”
ns 172.70.127.60da2
and then Add to home screen.