We have little information on Daphne’s early life. She grew up in a humble home, her father a factory worker, her mother a washerwoman. She had three siblings, and her younger sister, Grace, died of a burst appendix at twelve years old. Scholars believe that this was the beginning of Daphne’s interest in the occult, which only came to public light after she married Horace and had the means and respectability to host seances at their estate.
I flipped to another section.
Horace was a lifelong avowed bachelor. It surprised everyone when, in his fifties, he fell for a village waitress half his age. He was by all accounts a handsome and charismatic man, and his friends questioned the sudden decision to get married to someone who was “lower-class.” Later, people in town spoke of Daphne as having bewitched him, especially after her spiritualist activities became known.
And there were Daphne and Horace standing together, the other photo replicated in the front hall. A few pages on, Daphne stood before a fireplace with two women. One stared at the camera, her chin proudly raised, her hands clasped in front of her ruffled dress. The other, who looked younger, smiled shyly, her head bowed above her high neckline. The caption read:
Daphne, Florence, and Abigail, founding members of the Blackbriar Spiritualist Society.
I glanced at the paragraph next to the photo.
Daphne became close with two other members of high society, Florence Binninger and Abigail Williams, who were also interested in spiritualism. For three years, they met weekly and called themselves the Blackbriar Spiritualist Society. During these meetings, the women attempted to channel spirits through automatic writing and drawing, a practice that supported Daphne’s burgeoning artistic skills. Eventually, Daphne claimed to connect with a female demon named Lamia who asked Daphne to channel a “Great Commission” that would bring knowledge and wisdom to humankind. Daphne took this commission on, even though Florence and Abigail tried to dissuade her, believing that it would cause her to go mad.
Daphne prepared herself for six months in advance, engaging in hours of meditation and eating only bland, vegetarian food. She kept most of this information from Horace, who was often traveling for his business. Daphne chose a two-week period when he would be gone to begin channeling Lamia’s works. During this time, she sent all the servants away from the house. In just three days, Daphne finished the first large-scale works of the commission: The World in Between I and II （pp. 62–63）。 Afterwards, she took to her bed for several weeks to recover.
I flipped to the next page. The pictures were small and poorly reproduced, but they showed the two enormous abstract paintings in the front hall.
Three months after the first series, while Daphne was preparing herself for the second round, Horace’s company went bankrupt. He became depressed and ordered Daphne to stop her work. She humored him but secretly finished the second series, titled The Doorway, in a four-day span. Unfortunately, Horace found the paintings and burned them in a bonfire. It’s unclear whether he believed they were evil or if he was just punishing Daphne. Sadly, we have no record of these paintings. Daphne hid the World in Between works in the basement, ensuring their survival.
Daphne prepared for the third channeling in secret as Horace threatened to divorce her if she continued. But what happened on the eve of this transmission will never be known. A blizzard approached and Horace sent the servants home to their families. The storm dropped eight feet of snow in forty-eight hours, which made it impossible to reach the house for nearly a week. When the servants returned, they found a horrific and mystifying sight. Horace lay in his bed, disembowled. Daphne was at the foot of the basement stairs, her body a charred skeleton. Apart from her burned body, the rest of the basement was untouched. The World in Between paintings had been removed from their hiding place and leaned against the wall several feet from the corpse.
No paintings from the third part of the commission, if completed, were ever found.
Chapter 11
I was the first to arrive in the library. Someone—presumably Yana—had set up a large rectangular table in front of the windows. I sat and spread out my papers and notebook, attempting to quell the sharp spikes of panic in my chest. There was a coffee carafe on the buffet table but it was probably a bad idea in my already frazzled state.
After hours of attempts, I’d finally settled on what seemed like the least horrible idea.
Unfortunately, someone in the group might find it a bit familiar.
“What’s up!” Taylor loped in, dressed in a colorful sweatshirt and red leggings, with Keira close behind.
“Hi, guys.” To my surprise, Taylor sat far away, at the opposite end of the table, and Keira settled next to her. Why had they chosen to sit so far from me?
We all turned at the sounds from the doorway.
“I was, like, what are you even talking about?” Poppy was saying as she and Wren swept into the room. “Have you never heard of a press kit before?”
“That is the most absurd request I have heard in my entire life.” Wren could make statements like these sound sarcastic, but it was clear that she was determined to win Poppy over. From Poppy’s adoring gaze, it seemed like she’d already succeeded.
“Are y’all ready for this?” Taylor grinned, tapping a drumbeat on the table.
“We’ll see.” Avoiding eye contact with me, Wren sat across from Taylor. She wore what had to be a designer cashmere sweatsuit in teal, and her dark hair was pulled into a bun. Poppy settled across from Keira, looking cute in a nubby pink sweater. Now they were all clustered around the far end of the table. What the hell? An empty chair separated Poppy and me. I was the outlier, the little trail of the comet, flying off into oblivion.
“How was the walk?” Taylor asked Wren and Poppy. “Run into any wild animals?”
Their chatter and laughter filled my ears and suddenly I was back in middle school, sitting on a bench during recess, pretending to be absorbed in my book. The other kids didn’t care enough to make fun of me or even feel bad for me. They didn’t see me at all.
What did people on reality shows say? I’m not here to make friends. And that was true. But I still felt a nudge of shame. Should I move closer to Poppy?
Why should I? The thought contained a fiery petulance. After all, I’d been the first person in the goddamn room.
Roza strode in, coughing and paging through a notebook, reading glasses perched on her nose. Her hair was loose, and she wore a red sweater, slouchy jeans, and fur-lined slippers. She walked closer and I expected her to sit at the head of the table by the others. But she swerved and settled by me instead.
She looked up with consternation. “Move closer, please? I don’t want to shout.” The others obediently got up, moving to our end of the table. I felt a low buzz of relief and, yes, smugness.
“So.” Roza pulled off her glasses with an expectant smile. “How’d it go?”
We looked at each other in silence.
“Great!” Taylor finally shouted, and we all laughed.
“Good.” Roza smirked. “Don’t be nervous, girls. The worst I can do is rip it to shreds, right?” She squeezed my forearm, and the sudden intimacy made me jump. “Just kidding. I know this is the hardest part. But I’m confident that after this meeting you’ll walk away excited to get down to business.”