“I think it’s time to go up,” he said, stealing one last kiss by the fire.
He led her up to her second-floor room, Hadley’s Suite, and they stopped at the door, Nick leaning against its frame.
Kate draped her arms around his neck. “I’d love to invite you inside,” she whispered.
He smiled. “I’d feel better about it if I knew Mr. and Mr. Busybody weren’t down the hall.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Kate smiled. “If we emerged from the same room in the morning, they’d demand a play-by-play.”
“We would not!” came a voice from down the hallway.
Kate and Nick shared a laugh, and he kissed her good night. “If you hear anything, I’m in the next room.”
“Okay,” she’d said and slipped inside her room, shutting the door behind her.
Now, Kate snuggled back down under the covers and exhaled, thinking of the man in the next room and wishing he was lying beside her. She watched the shadows play on the walls for a bit and then closed her eyes, not realizing that the coals in her fireplace were too small to cast shadows.
An hour later, Nick found Kate cowering in the corner of one of the turret rooms above the third floor, a massive dog standing over her, growling. Nick had awakened because of Alaska’s barking and followed the sound up to the third floor. Jonathan and Simon pounded up the stairs a few moments later.
“Alaska!” Nick yelled. “Down! Down, girl!”
But the dog didn’t move. Her yellow eyes were trained on Kate’s face, a fierce snarl coming from the dog’s throat, her teeth bared.
Nick tried to reach Kate, but the dog stood in his way, a low growl warning him off.
“Kate! What—”
It was then he noticed Kate’s demeanor, as though she didn’t even know the dog—or he—was there.
Instead of the bright hazel in her eyes, Kate’s pupils were black. She was staring off into space, her arms crooked as though she was holding a baby.
“She cries so,” Kate said, in a paper-thin voice not her own. “I cannot get her to stop crying! Why won’t she sleep?”
“Kate,” Nick called to her. “Kate, it’s me. Look at me, Katie.”
“That’s not Kate,” Simon whispered, reaching for Jonathan’s arm. “Alaska would never growl at Kate.”
“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry . . . ,” Kate sang in a whisper.
“Let me try,” Simon said to Nick. He nodded.
“Celeste,” Simon said, his voice wavering. “Celeste, what have you done?”
At this, Kate’s head snapped in Simon’s direction. “What have you done?” she said to him, slowing pushing herself up to a standing position. “This is all your fault.” But she wasn’t looking at Simon. She was looking beyond him, down the turret steps into the empty ballroom below. Simon didn’t realize Harrison was standing there. “You brought her into this house. My house. I want her out. She’s not a Connor.”
Simon, Nick, and Jonathan watched as Kate tumbled—or more exactly, was thrown—down the turret steps, Alaska barking ferociously at her heels. Kate landed with a thud on the ballroom floor.
“Alaska, move aside!” Nick yelled, pushing the dog and risking a broken arm in the process. But the dog didn’t bite, allowing Nick to get to Kate and lift her to her feet.
“Kate, honey, wherever you are in there, it’s Nick,” he said. Kate’s head was lolling to the side, her black eyes wild, a terrifying grin across her face.
Kate got to her feet, a low chuckle escaping her lips. “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry . . .”
The air around them began to swirl and thicken, as though they were standing in the center of a windstorm.
“Tell her to go to the light,” Jonathan whispered to Simon.
“Go to the light?” Simon hissed in a whisper. “Is that really a thing?”
Jonathan shrugged. “No idea. But what else are we going to do? Invoke somebody! Your relatives?”
Simon cleared his throat. “Great-Grandfather Harrison, if you’re here, help us send Celeste to the light. Take her away, Harrison. Help her cross over. I know you don’t want this, and she can’t stay here with us.”
“Mama’s going to sing you a lullaby . . .”
“I’ve summoned your great-grandmother, boy,” a voice whispered in Simon’s ear. “Call Addie. I’ve got someone of my own to call.”
“Addie!” Simon called out, louder than before. “Great-Grandmother Addie Stewart! We call upon you to help us rid this place of this dark spirit, to free your great-granddaughter Kate from her grasp.”
And the windstorm around them became more violent, blowing photos and furniture across the room, whirling and swirling with a feverish, frantic energy. Cries and howls emanated from nothingness, filling the room and their very bodies with the wails and regrets of the dead.
“All of us love Kate, Celeste,” Simon shouted above the din. “Every living thing in this room loves Kate to the very depths of our souls. That is stronger than you. We are stronger than you. Kate is stronger than you. The truth is stronger than you. Go to the light, Celeste. It’s over. It’s time for you to go home.”
Silence, finally, when Harrison stepped close to Celeste, carrying a baby in his arms.
“What are you doing here when it’s her feeding time?” he said, his voice gentle and soft, holding Clementine close to his chest. “Stop tormenting this poor girl and tend to your daughter. That’s what a loving mother should do.”
And with that, Kate fell to the ground in a heap. Alaska was on her in an instant, licking her face. Standing next to the dog’s great head, too faint for any of the men to see her, was Addie. She reached down and stroked Kate’s hair, her violet eyes shining.
“My darling girl,” she whispered into Kate’s ear. “She’s gone. She can’t hurt you. She never could. Never really wanted to. It was the madness, the grief.”
Kate murmured and reached for the great-grandmother she didn’t consciously know was there.
“I’m so proud of you,” Addie said. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me. For us.”
And with that, Addie turned to her beloved Jess and took his hand.
“Look at her, darling,” she said to him. “Our great-granddaughter.”
“She’s beautiful, Addie.” Jess smiled at her. “Just like you. Just like Hadley. Now that this is done, what shall we do today, my love?”
“They’ll be fine now.” Addie straightened. “The whole world awaits.” They turned and walked hand in hand into forever.
Kate reached up to stroke her dog’s soft fur. And then she noticed the three men standing above them.
“What’s going on?” she asked, coughing.
Nick reached down, took Kate’s hand, and helped her to her feet. He pulled her into a hug and held her close. She could feel his whole body shaking. “Thank God,” he whispered, tears of relief escaping from his eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
On one particularly windy, chilly day, Kate and Simon, along with Nick and Jonathan, drove up the rocky shoreline to Great Bay, where Addie and Jess had spent their childhoods. Kate had spent the last few weeks doing research into their lives—birth and death records existed, but not much else. She knew both Addie’s and Jess’s fathers had been fishermen, as had their fathers before them. But no relatives existed. Neither Addie’s nor Jess’s parents had more than one child. Both families lost everything that horrible, foggy night on the shores of the lake in Wharton—or believed they had. Young Hadley remained, though out of their view and their knowledge. She had children and grandchildren—a family blossomed out of all that devastation. And nobody knew until now.