Luke did not agree to “run along,” as Rose suggested, but he did offer an alternative solution. Rose could drive Addison home in her vehicle while Luke followed behind. He wasn’t letting Addison out of his sight. Good deed or not, it wasn’t up for negotiation.
Rose’s car was an older model Cadillac in pristine condition. Addison opened the passenger-side door, slid across the tan leather seats, and buckled up. “Your son didn’t have anything to do with this, did he?”
“He’s not aware of any of it. And I have no interest in telling him either. He’d just fuss and coddle me until I suffocate. I figure if I’m wrong about you, if you are a criminal, well, I can always blow your head off if you try for round two.”
At least she was honest. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I’m not helping you. I’m helping myself. I thought the two of us could have a chat while I drove you home.”
Rose was different now, not only in tone of voice, but in expression, like she’d shed one of her thick outer layers and lowered her guard.
“What would you like to ask me?”
Rose put the car in drive and pulled onto the road, the reflection of Luke’s familiar headlights glistening in Addison’s passenger-side mirror while they drove along.
“I’m a skeptic, you know,” Rose said. “Someone who doesn’t believe in life after death. I was raised a non-believer. It’s the only truth I’ve ever known. And yet, part of me wants to believe you. Who knows why? I struggled to get back to sleep tonight, and I imagined I’d spend the rest of my nights much the same way if I didn’t at least hear what you have to say.”
“Are you saying you believe what I told you before, about the curtains and the stain on Grace’s dress?”
“I’m saying, I’m not closed to it. Not entirely. Still, you’ll have to convince me.”
“How?”
“If you can communicate with Viv and Grace, prove it. I’ll tell you something only they will know.”
“I want you to believe me, but it doesn’t work like that.”
“Why not? Aren’t you some kind of medium? Aren’t you supposed to be able to conjure things up whenever you like?”
Addison shifted in her seat, facing Rose. “I see the girls when they want to be seen. It’s not up to me. It’s up to them.”
Rose sighed. “You realize this isn’t helping you any, right?”
“Think of it this way—if I was a fake, wouldn’t I at least try to give you what you’re asking?”
Rose turned onto the freeway. “Tell me how it works then. What happens when you do see them? Tell me straight. Assuming I might believe you, how is it you came to be in the lives of my girls, and just what do you mean to accomplish by breaking into my house?”
“The first time I saw your girls was at a funeral several months ago. I was there for someone else. I looked over, and they were chasing each other around your husband’s grave. At the time, I didn’t realize they weren’t alive.”
“When did you?”
“They appeared to me again several days ago, this time in a dream they seemed to be controlling. I saw the past, your manor, your husband’s car, the cat.”
“How old are they now? What do they look like?”
Addison answered her questions, giving the most detailed description she could about the girls’ hair, their dresses, anything to justify what she had seen was real.
“What are they like?” Rose asked. “What do they say to you when they talk to you?”
“I’ve only seen them a few times. Vivian usually does all the talking. Grace hides.”
To Addison’s surprise, Rose let out a slight giggle. “She was always the skittish one of the two. Afraid of everything, she was.”
“I don’t think she understands what happened to her like Vivian does.”
“You mentioned the stained dress earlier, and I’ll admit, it got me thinking. No one else knew I changed their clothes that day. Their father was still at work, and their brother was at a neighbor’s house. What I don’t understand is, how did you manage to get the key to the attic? It’s been missing for ages.”
Though reluctant, Addison squeaked out, “Shadow showed me.”
“The damn cat?”
Addison nodded.
“You’re saying, not only am I supposed to believe you see my dead children, you see dead cats too? What about my husband? Any visits from him?”
“This isn’t a joke, Mrs. Clark. I know it sounds like one, but it isn’t. Not to me, and not to your daughters.”
“Why have they come to you? What do they want?”
They wanted what any deceased person wanted—the ability to move on.
“Do you believe in heaven?” Addison asked. “In any kind of afterlife?”
“For my children’s sake, and my husband’s, and any chance I have of seeing them again, I have no choice. No matter what my own parents taught me, I have to.”
“Your girls are still here, trapped somehow, unable to move on.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I suspect it has something to do with the night they died. Something unresolved.”
“Why come to you? What can you do about it?”
Addison took a deep breath and said, “I can find out how they really died.”