ANDREA CICERO: Andrea 'Andie' Cicero wanted nothing more than to serve the better good of the people through law enforcement, but a twist of fate kept her from pursuing that path. Now, the borders between broken dreams and family are tested as she is presented with a chance to solve her brother's murder. Is she strong enough to face the darkness to come?

As a child, she had hated storms, hid beneath the blankets and clung tightly to her stuffed bear for comfort, sometimes crawling into bed with her brother or parents, seeking their protection. But as the years passed by, her fear had diminished, but every so often, a crashing rounds of thunder was enough to make her cringe, happy to be able to hide within the confines of her apartment until the storm had passed.

Tonight, however was different. Her sanctuary had been invaded by the heart-wrenching unexpected, and she had chosen to meet the storm head-on, thrusting herself into the tempest and daring its rage, hoping that it would provide her suitable distraction from her grief. Rain bombarded her from above, stinging through the thin layer of clothing that had adhered itself to her body. Her blonde hair was plastered to her head, hanging limply down to her back and lying heavily against the crease between the shoulder blades.

She no longer had any sense of where she was, the streets seeming alien and unknown to her, but she could have cared less, her attentions distracted by an inescapable deluge of misery. Buildings blurred by her, until suddenly, she could run no further, the burning in her chest an inferno too hot to ignore. Her knees collapsed to the rain-glistened pavement below, splashing water away to the sides at the collision of denim and concrete.

A single streetlight glowed down the road, fighting against the torrent to illuminate its corner of the street, a lone sliver of gold amidst the never-ending gray. She hadn't notice the light come on, but as she turned back from the streetlight, her face was bathed in blue, and looking up, she noticed the 'OPEN' sign illuminated brightly in its neon glory. Lifting her body from the street, she struggled up the steps, and pushed open the door, feeling the dry warmth as it washed over her and sighing. Her teeth chattering, she meekly called out, "Hello, is there anyone here?"

From the next room, a small bubble of laughter floated to her, and then a voice returned, "Of course I am here, child. If I had not been, the sign would never have come on."

Gathering her arms about her, she marched forward, dragging her feet slightly along the hardwood floors and pushing the hanging beads aside as she made her way toward the voice. A lone drip of water trickled from her forehead to her cheek, dispelled with a quick wipe of her finger as she stared ahead at the old woman sitting on the other side of the table. Speaking softly, she said, "I hate to disturb you ma'am, but I saw the light on and thought I would escape the rain for a minute."

"Think nothing of it child. We all run from our troubles, thinking the rain capable of washing away that which burdens us," the woman replies, gesturing toward a chair and then laying a row of cards across the surface of the table. "Come, take rest with us. There be no need to carry a heavy load in here."

"How did you know..."

"The storms bears a great many secrets, but above all, it buries the cries of souls departing, echoes the grief of those left behind. It flashes the lights of Heaven, too soon gone, so that the living may not be tempted to journey before their time. Grey and ashen is the sky like the drawing of saddened faces. Like your face, Andrea," the woman said, continuing to spread the cards on the table, her eyes, nearly obscured by the wrinkles in her cheeks, peering down at the cards. "You have lost someone recently, have you not?"

The girl closed her eyes, biting her lip as she fought back the urge to cry anew. She had almost questioned how the woman knew her name, but the shock of the next inquiry had driven that idea away. "My brother, Tony. It shouldn't have been him, never should have been him."

"The cards tell differently, and the cards speak only the truth," the woman remarked, flipping over the first card on the left-most tower. "They speak of his idealism, his valiance. They tell of a giving heart, and a warm smile. And here, we see mention of great family devotion, an admiration that lead him to choose his path."

"It was my fault. When we were kids, Tony always wanted to be like me. He'd follow me around everywhere, like a lost puppy. He's the one that got me stuck with the nickname 'Andie'," she replied, pausing slightly before moving on, fighting back the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. "For as long as I can remember, I had wanted to go into the police academy or the FBI, and my dream became his. He reached for it just as hard as I had, made it to the Bureau where I had failed. If it had been anything else, he'd be alive right now. I pushed him to death."

"Fate's clock chimes for us all, and when the zero hour rings, it matters not how we lived out life. Death always has a way of claiming its prey. The guilt be not yours. Your brother chose his path because of the allure of the life it offered, as well as an homage to your dreams, given the twist that carried you away from that destination. And yet, the cards feel as if you need closure, as if you've come looking for answers. Tell me child, what questions perplex your soul?"

Andie didn't reply at first, wasn't quite sure what to ask nor why to ask it. The conversation had already taken a path she had not wanted to go down. She had not expected to find herself in a strange place, discussing her dead brother with a complete stranger. But nothing had ever felt this right. "Tony was killed this evening, in the line of duty. I had been out, trying to sort out the messes of my life, and failed miserably. I got home and found the announcement waiting on my answering machine. The bastards didn't even have the fucking guts to tell me in person." She waited a second, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she fought to calm herself. "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have..."

"Anger overwhelms us all, child. Sometimes, it clouds thought, making us prone to impulse. Worry about nothing."

"Still...I'm sorry."

"Please continue. Lay forth your burdens."

"Tony was a good agent, the kind that made the Bureau proud. All of his colleagues said so. He did everything by the book, followed every letter to the 'T'. He never would have put himself in danger unless someone else was in the line of fire. I didn't get a how, a why, or even an apology. All they said was that they would look into it, and make the arrangements for his burial." And then the tears start to fall, cascading down her cheeks and dripping, unabated, to the table below. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, and now I never will."

"And what if you had that chance?"

Andie ran her fingers back through her hair, stopping midway and bunching some of the locks between her fingers. Her eyes shone red, a mixture of frustration and immense emotionality, and she begged, "How could that be possible? You can't turn back time."

"Time marches forever onward, that much is true," the woman responded, gathering the cards from the table and tucking them away. Folding her withered fingers together, she continued, "However, Fate has led you here with a purpose. Every action has a presence upon the threads of life, every knot is tied long before it is encountered. I can open the door for you, allow you vision beyond the mortal coil for a brief time. Allow you time to sate your curiosities."

"I don't understand."

"This world and the next are separated only by thin veil, by a wall only thick enough to conceal each world from the other. And yet, upon the cusp of passing, the journey from one world to the next is not an immediate one. I offer only the chance to talk with your brother before his soul passes through that veil into the next world. What are your wishes?"

"I'm sorry, but as much as I'd like to, I've seen the Unsolved Mysteries specials on clairvoyant hoaxes. I'm not ready to be hurt any further," Andie said, pushing her chair back from the table and beginning to climb to her feet.

"There are far worse things to disbelieve in this world, child. I offer you a chance, free of obligation. There is nothing to lose, only vaunted closure to gain," the woman replied, lighting the candles in the center of the table. "Must I offer you proof?"

Andie didn't reply, wasn't sure what to say to that. She wanted to believe, wanted more than anything for the woman's words to be truth, but there was a lingering doubt that surrounded her heart. Instead, she halted her escape, collapsing her muscles from their tensed state and dipping her head to the table. "Make me believe."

"On the evening that your brother left home, he left a rose on the pillow beside your head and tucked a note into your hand. You nearly awoke at his touch, clenched the note tight in your hand, but resumed your slumber. When you rose in the morning, you opened the note, tearing the left side of the flap slightly, despite your attempt to open it carefully. The note read: 'Andie, you are forever and always my guiding light. Stay true..."

"...to your flight sweet angel'," Andie completed, swallowing back as the memories tumbled forward. She stared ahead at the woman, trying desperately to focused her tear-glassed eyes. "How did you know?"

"Now do you believe?"

"Please, bring him to me."

The woman straightened her back, pulling her shawl tightly to her shoulders and saying, "I must warn you, Andrea, that the road back is a harsh one, and as is always the case with the departed, the allure of forward motion is often difficult to halt. Do you have something that you cherish, something that has always been close to your heart?"

Shaking the loose blouse from her skin, Andrea reached deep into the neck of her shirt and pulled out a tarnished locket, loosening the clasp and laying it on the table. "My brother gave this to me as a little girl. I think he got it out of a gumball machine, but I've warn it for years now. It seems silly, but it was the first present he ever gave me."

"The trinkets of times past are weighed only by their significance to their holder. Material objects can not be taken into the next life, but they do serve as a tether to this one. This is your beacon to your brother, his light to guide him from the promise to us, for even the briefest of seconds. I will act as the medium, the link between yourself and your brother. Direct your questions through me, and I shall find your answers in his words..."

The room grew cold then, and Andie breathed deep, the rush of air getting caught in her chest as her body stiffened with fright. An errant breeze whipped through the chamber, dousing the candles and leaving only a twisting wisp of smoke rising from the silent wicks. She tightened her grip on the edge of the table, shivering against the sudden onslaught of cold. She closed her eyes, waiting for the brief tempest to pass, whispering, "Please, please, please...tell me what's happening."

There was no answer from the old woman. Instead, Andie felt a cold touch against her cheek, a hollow glance of ice against her skin. Her eyes flashed open, searching for the source of the chill, and shocked filtered through her system as the vision before her registered. "Oh my God, it can't be you...please...please..."

"C'mon, Angel, you know my face, and you know I wouldn't lie to you," he answered, stroking down on her cheek with the edge of his fingers. He smiled down at her, his face radiating with a spectral glow, pale like snow. "I came a long way for you."

"But Tony..." Andie looked over to the old woman, searching for answers, hoping for an explanation, but the old woman appeared as mystified as Andie was.

"Shhh, now. We don't have a lot of time together. I'm not like the others, I know that I don't belong here anymore, but you called. Who was I to deny you?" he said, stepping away from her and pacing across the room, his footsteps falling silently against the floor, devoid of echo. "You gotta do me a favor, sis, and I don't mean the kinda favor like covering for me with Mom. I need you to find out who did this to me..."

"What?"

Tony shook his head, turning back toward Andie and saying, "You know, what got me here. It's what's been eating at you all night. There's no way I woulda gotten myself killed in a simple bust. No way." He paused, raising his hands in front of his face as the light began to shine through them, a look of worry descending across his features. "Time's running short. I need you to find whoever did this to me. They can't get away with..."

The chair clattered to the ground as Andie rushed from her seat, reaching out to her brother as his visage disappeared into the shadow. Crashing to the floor, her head fell into her hands, tears dripping from between her fingers as she let fly with the saline. "Why so soon? I didn't get a chance..."

"He knows, child. Although the spirits move in silence, they perceive man just as man perceives them. They often know not who the ghost is, but they know that others cared for them whilst they were together," the woman answered, creeping across the floor and standing next to Andie. "Come, pick yourself up and rest for awhile. There is much to discuss."

"What? What are you talking about?"

The woman reached below the table then, extracting a pouch of velvet and pulling the string ties loose. Dumping the sands on the table, her crackling bones pushed the sands along the tablecloth as she said, "What you just saw was not my doing. I am but a medium. I can not traverse the veil to allow the living to see the dead. This was of your own doing, child. You have power inside you."

"I don't understand."

"There are others like you, walkers of the dead, those who see the recently departed and interact. They come in many forms, some willing to embrace their destinies, some who shy away, and some who are corrupted by the visions and driven to insanity. These spirits, they seek closure, a finality to the life they are leaving behind. Until then, they shall find the veil hard to part."

Andie stared ahead, somewhat shocked at what the woman was saying, and only partially understanding it. "But, I still don't get it. You're throwing too much at me at once..."

"There may be those who come to you, not necessarily those you seek. They shall present to you a task, a riddle, a mystery, something that needs settling before their path becomes clear to them. Not all are willing to part with this coil until their lives are closed behind them. Your brother, for example, seeks justice for he who placed him on the path to immortality," the woman replied, filtering through the spilled sands. "Even the dusts of time have it written for you. There awaits a great trial for you, and it is unclear to whether that trial comes from this task or beyond. You must go now, piece together that which awaits you, and above all else, keep your eyes opened to the unexpected."

Andie didn't question the woman, refused to turn back as she climbed to her feet and fled through the beads. Her feet hit the pavement hard, breaking into a run as soon as she was in the open air, the storm mysteriously gone from the skies above. There was too much to think on, too much to consider, and above all, a burning need to settle the past.

NEXT: Andie has been presented with the task of finding her brother's killer, but where does she even start? The FBI refuses to disclose any knowledge. Her own life is in a constant state of upheaval. Mysteries abound in the shadows, but is there an ending in sight?