Lily

51

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The only way Violet could be safe was if Aunt Clara was gone. We had tried everything else, and our aunt was still purple and angry and dangerous. Telling Aunt Clara that I had to come with them because I could fix Violet wasn’t an option either, because then she would only make me, too, use my gifts in ways that they weren’t supposed to be used, and then maybe I would be sick, and there wouldn’t be anyone to help me. No, Aunt Clara had to go, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. The ghosts, too, wanted to get rid of her—so why hadn’t they already?

I asked Dina and Violet what they thought on the night after my fight with Aunt Clara, while we were all sitting around the kitchen table eating stew. Aunt Clara was up in her room just then, claiming to have a migraine, which we knew wasn’t true. Violet didn’t feel anything, and she had been liar’s green when she said it.

I was just happy to have her gone, though.

“Mr. Woods said that he wanted to see her ‘squirm’ first,” Dina replied to my question. “Maybe that is why. Or maybe her death means the end of them, too, and they don’t want to go just yet.”

“Mr. Woods is throwing all kinds of things at her,” I said, “but none of it really hurts her. It’s like he’s not even trying!”

“Do you want him to hurt her, for real?” Dina’s blue eyes were dark, and her flames had turned a worried shade of pink.

“I don’t see what other choice we have,” I muttered. “Aunt Clara would kill me, too, if she could afford to. I cause her a lot of trouble, and she only needs Violet for the séances.” I didn’t say aloud what I thought: that Violet, too, might die if I wasn’t around to pick off the tadpoles and heal her with fruit and vegetables.

Dina opened her mouth—probably about to say something to comfort me—but then she closed it again. She, too, knew it was the truth.

“She wants to take everything we have if she can,” I continued. “And she makes Violet sick.”

“Murder, though.” Dina tutted and shook her head. She speared a piece of potato with her fork but didn’t lift it to her lips. “It would make us as bad as she is, don’t you think?” She looked at Violet and me in turn.

“Is it really murder if a dead person does it?” I asked.

“Yes.” Dina gave me a dark look. “But I don’t blame you for your thoughts. The situation is dire, to say the least.”

I nodded. “But the ghosts never kill her, so maybe there’s no point in hoping that they will.”

“Maybe we can ask them to.” Violet looked up from the stew. She had been quiet all through the meal, so it was a surprise to even hear her talk.

“Ask them?” Dina sounded puzzled. “How would we do that?”

“They can talk through me.” Violet shrugged. “I don’t mind if it can help.” She gave me a quick, secretive look. We hadn’t told Dina that I could fix the ghost sickness. It just felt safer when only we knew. “It is important,” she said with a tiny smile, and I knew she was thinking of the lady in the clearing. “And it’s the only way. Or the only way that we know of, anyway.”

Once again, I so wished that Mama and Papa were there to guide us.

“But is it worth it?” Dina looked at Violet with concern.

“I think so.” Violet shrugged again. “I don’t think Aunt Clara should live anymore.” She licked a little gravy off her fork. “She upsets everything.”

“I hate the idea of killing,” I said, “but I don’t think she should live anymore either.”

Dina leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I would take care of you—you know that. I would be happy to be your guardian until you turn eighteen.” She was looking at me as she said the last part. “If your lawyer allowed it, of course.”

Just the thought of it made my heart beat faster. “I think he would. They wouldn’t want us to move around if we didn’t have to.”

“Would we still have to live at Crescent Hill?” Violet asked with a grimace.

“I suppose it would be yours if Mrs. Woods passed, seeing how she has no other heirs, but maybe we could live at the farm,” Dina suggested.

“It wouldn’t be as if we moved to a whole new town,” I said. “Mr. Skye probably wouldn’t mind.” At least I hoped he wouldn’t. “But what about your husband?” I asked Dina. “Would he want us there?”

Dina smiled. “Joe likes children, and we keep no secrets, so he knows a little of what has been going on around here.”

My whole heart swelled just from thinking of how good that would be, but I didn’t dare to hope just yet. There was still the question of Aunt Clara, and how we could make the ghosts do what they had promised.

“We have to talk to the ghosts,” I decided at last. It would make Violet sick, but I could fix that. And it wasn’t just about us anymore either, but about doing what our family had always done: protecting the balance and the boundary. Not because Aunt Clara had killed someone, because a lot of people did that, but because she forced Violet to be a channel for the dead when she clearly wasn’t meant to be. That was the trespass, and I knew deep inside that the lady didn’t approve. It wasn’t just the ghosts and Violet and I who wanted Aunt Clara to die—the lady wanted it, too.

“Don’t talk to Mr. Woods, though.” Violet rolled her eyes. “He is so angry all the time. You should talk to Miss Lawrence,” she said to Dina. “You and she were friends, so I’m sure she’ll talk to you.”

Dina looked a little nervous and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I suppose Cecilia is the wisest of them,” she agreed. “Mr. Woods was boastful in life as well.”

That decided, we finished our stew and started preparing for a séance.