Thin Man pulled the Ouija board from his bag, setting it on the table along with a new planchette. The last one had burned in the fireplace, becoming nothing but ash and smoke thanks to Wallace. Next to the Ouija board, he set down the feather quill and loose sheets of paper.
Desdemona pulled out a chair for Nancy. “Sit here, dear. That way, you’ll still be in frame but won’t be blocking me.”
“Oh boy,” Nelson muttered as Mei scoffed.
Nancy did as asked, clutching her purse in her lap. She didn’t look at any of them, quietly refusing the offer of tea from Hugo as Desdemona took a seat next to her.
Desdemona smiled at her. “I know we didn’t quite make contact the last time you and I were here. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen now. When we came a couple of weeks ago, the spirits were … active. I don’t think any of them were Lea, but you weren’t with us then. It’ll help having you here to focus. I have a feeling today will bring the answers you seek.” She reached over and touched Nancy’s elbow. “If you need a break, or want to stop entirely, say the word.”
Nancy nodded. She looked down at the Ouija board. “You think we’ll get something this time?”
“I hope so,” Desdemona said. “Either through the board or automatic writing. But if we don’t, we’ll try again. You remember what to do, right? Direct your questions toward me, keeping them to yes or no answers if you can. I’ll ask whatever you want, and if all goes well, the spirit energy will run through me. Be patient, especially if another spirit is trying to speak first.”
“Okay,” Nancy whispered as she sniffled.
Desdemona glanced at Thin Man. “Is everything ready?”
“As it’ll ever be,” Thin Man mumbled as he pressed a button on the camera. It beeped, and a red light began to blink. He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from his bag. He looked around nervously, as if remembering the last time they’d been here, and the chaos that’d ensued.
“And as we discussed,” Desdemona said to Nancy, “we’re not streaming live per your request. We’ll post the video later, but only after you’ve seen the edited version and agreed to it. Anything you don’t want shown, we’ll keep to ourselves.”
Nancy gripped her purse tighter.
“Do you have any questions before we begin? If you do, that’s okay. You can ask me anything you want. I won’t start until you’re ready.”
She shook her head.
Desdemona wiggled her shoulders, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She cracked her knuckles before settling her hands on the planchette in the middle of the Ouija board. “Spirits! I command that you speak with me! I know you’re there. This will allow us to communicate with each other. Do you understand? There is nothing to fear. We aren’t here to harm you. If you would prefer the pen, give me a sign.”
The planchette didn’t move. Neither did the pen.
“It’s okay,” Desdemona said to Nancy. “It takes a little time.” She raised her voice again. “I am here with Nancy Donovan. She believes the spirit of her daughter, Lea Donovan, resides in this place, for reasons I’m still not quite clear on, but no matter. If Lea Donovan is here, we need to hear from her. If there are any other spirits, we ask that you step aside and allow Lea her moment to say what she must.”
“Are you sure about this?” Nelson asked quietly.
“Yes,” Wallace said. “We wait.”
For the next hour, Desdemona tried all manner of questions, some sweet and coaxing, others more forceful and demanding. Nothing changed. The planchette remained still.
Desdemona grew frustrated, Thin Man covering up a yawn with the back of his hand as Squat Man carried the spirit box around the room, the machine silent.
Eventually, Desdemona sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, glaring down at the Ouija board. “I really thought something would happen.” She forced a smile. “It doesn’t always work. They can be a fickle thing, spirits. They only do what they want when they want.”
Nancy nodded, though Wallace could see how hurt she was by it. He ached at the pain radiating from her, silently begging her to hold on just a little bit longer.
Nancy didn’t move as Thin Man and Squat Man packed away the Ouija board and the camera. Desdemona spoke quietly to Nancy, holding her hands, telling her that she couldn’t give up, that they’d try again as soon as they could. “Give it time,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure it out.”
Nancy nodded, expression slack and blank.
She rose from her chair as the others headed for the door, holding her purse against her chest like a shield. Thin Man and Squat Man left without looking back. Desdemona paused at the doorway, glancing at Hugo. “You know there’s something here.”
Hugo didn’t respond.
“Come, dear,” Desdemona said to Nancy. “You can follow us back into town, so we know you’re safe.”
Mei cocked her head as if confused, glancing back and forth between Desdemona and Nancy.
Hugo cleared his throat. “I’d like to have a word with Nancy in private, if she’ll allow it.”
Desdemona narrowed her eyes. “Anything you want to say to her, you can say with me present.”
“If that’s what she wants,” Hugo said. “If not, but she wants to share what I tell her, then that’s okay too.”
“Nancy?” Desdemona asked.
Nancy studied Hugo before nodding. “It’s … it’s fine. Go. I won’t be long.”
Desdemona hesitated, looking as if she was going to argue. Instead, she sighed. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Nancy said.
Desdemona squeezed her shoulder and left the tea shop.
Silence fell, all of them waiting until the sound of a car started up, the engine rumbling. It faded, the clock ticking, ticking.
“Well?” Nancy asked, voice trembling. “What do you want?”
Hugo took in a deep breath, letting it out slow. “Your daughter isn’t here.”
Nancy recoiled as if slapped. Angry tears filled her eyes. “What?”
“She’s not here,” Hugo said gently. “She’s gone to a better place. A place where nothing can hurt her again.”
“How dare you,” Nancy whispered. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She took a step back toward the door. “I thought you’d…” She shook her head furiously. “I’m not going to stand here and let you be so cruel. I can’t.” Her chest hitched. “I won’t.” With one last glare, she turned toward the door.
She gripped the doorknob and Wallace knew it was now or never. Alan—frightened, doomed Alan—had shown him the way. Nancy burned like fire, her grief a never-ending fuel. Whatever she was—like Mei or something else—she’d heard him when Alan had screamed her name.
Which is why Wallace shouted, “Nancy!”
She froze, back stiff, shoulders hunched near her ears.
“Nancy!”
She turned slowly, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Did you … did you hear that?”