Shadow of a Life
by Tifani Clark
Jamie Peters plans to spend the summer before her junior year with her nose stuck in a book—not saving lost souls. Usually the girl that blends into the crowd, Jamie’s world is turned upside down when a mysterious ghost begins to follow her.
But Sophia isn’t just any ghost.
A hundred years earlier, Sophia’s disappearance sparked a national unsolved mystery. Jamie knew the legends surrounding Sophia’s disappearance, but never dreamed she'd find out what really happened . . . or that her family had something to do with Sophia’s disappearance.
Determined to set Sophia free, Jamie blows the dust off her family’s past and unearths clues that will save Sophia’s soul. She enlists the help of childhood friend—and secret crush—Peter Ashby as she sets off on a dangerous quest to find a missing map. Spending the night in a graveyard, crawling through a dilapidated barn, and staring down the barrel of a gun aren’t enough to deter Jamie. But can she find the answers she needs before another ghost gets revenge on her and Sophia?
“Tifani Clark brings an old maritime mystery to life in this haunting, paranormal tale of love, loss, regret, and unfinished business. I'm so glad I read it! It's one of my better reads this year and I highly recommend it. If you are on the fence about reading Shadow of a Life, just jump over that fence and do it. You won't be disappointed!”
Holly Kelly, author of Rising
“Tifani Clark has re-imagined ghosts and made them her own. I am excited to see what more she can do.”
Nathan Huffaker, author of Stranded
Dedicated to the real Sophia Briggs and her family, wherever you are.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Authors Note
Haven Waiting: Soul Saver Book Two excerpt
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
My eyes popped open and I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, heart pounding. Something had pulled me out of a deep sleep. A noise. I’d definitely heard a noise. I lay motionless, listening for any sign of movement, but the only sounds I heard were the faint tick-tick-tick of my watch and my own heart thumping in my ears. The room was dark except for a thin stream of light extending from the crescent moon outside my open window. What made that noise? Is someone in my room?
“Come on, Jamie. Don’t be a baby,” I whispered to myself. My heart raced faster and faster as I forced myself to turn my head and look into the shadowy corners of my bedroom.
Nothing.
My alarm clock flashed 12:00 a.m. I’d fallen asleep during a spring rain shower, and the storm must have knocked the power out at some point during the night. I fumbled for my cell phone on the nightstand and checked the time. 3:48 a.m. I sighed and sat up, turning on my lamp as I did so. The sudden burst of light blinded me for a few seconds, and I rubbed my eyes to relieve the blurriness before reaching to reset my clock.
And then I smelled it. A floral scent—rose, with a hint of lavender—and it was strong. My heart began to pound again. Something wasn’t right. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood on trembling legs. Cautiously, I stepped toward my window just as a gust of wind blew my pale green curtains, whipping them against my dresser.
“Ouch.” Something hard mangled my foot. I looked down and saw the metal lid of a perfume bottle.
Ahh . . . it all made sense. The wind blew my curtains into the bottle and knocked it off the top of my dresser. That would explain the noise and the smell. I bent down and grabbed the overturned bottle, hoping to save some of the contents before it all leaked onto my antique hardwood floors. No such luck. I sighed again. The smell would be in my room forever, or at least until I was well into my college years. I slammed my window shut and climbed back into bed.
It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. In the previous few weeks I’d had more experiences than I cared to admit where I found myself feeling like something wasn’t right—or that I was being watched—when I knew for sure that I was the only one home.
I worried that I might be developing anxiety problems. Or worse, that I’d lost my mind. I was Jamie Peters—the tough one. The one that let bad things roll off her back without thinking twice. The one that nothing exciting ever happened to. I didn’t want to tell my dad about my problem. He had enough on his mind without me adding childish fears to it.
I knew myself well enough to know that I wasn’t going to fall asleep again. I reached for the latest novel I was working my way through and began to read, hoping to lose myself in another world—a world where people aren’t losing their minds.