YOU CHOOSE TO SEE US AS YOU WILL.

Maria was tired of riddles.

“What the hell is happening?” Mateo said.

Maria should’ve known Altagracia wasn’t really here. There was no reason she should’ve been.

Except that Maria wanted her so badly. Badly enough to imagine it was true.

“Why are you doing this?” Maria shook her head. “Why did you let me go on thinking you were her? Altagracia wouldn’t have made me do these terrible things. Altagracia loved me.”

“What terrible things did you do, Maria?” Mateo sounded like he was about to cry. “Tell me! Now!”

The words in the dirt rearranged themselves in a flash.

MARIA, DEAR. NO ONE HAS MADE YOU DO A THING.

The breeze was gone in an instant. The dirt and grass went limp.

Was it morning? Night? Should the sun be rising? There was nothing on the horizon except that same dim gray light to the west.

Maria stood. She had nothing more to lose. Nothing to fear. The spirits would do as they chose.

“What the hell is going on, Maria? Who were you talking to?”

The rain started. Mateo cursed and pulled his baseball cap low around his ears.

Maria lifted her face toward the sky. Waves of water flowed over her. Drops hammered into her skin. They were sharp, like the knife blade. Soon her clothes clung to her and the phone in her pocket was soaking wet. She pulled it out and tossed it into the puddle at Mateo’s feet.

It was true. The spirits didn’t control her. They could only plant ideas in her mind. She was the one who chose to act on them.

Maria felt all their stories now as she clutched their dagger in her hand. All the lives they’d destroyed. Some part of Maria had always known the truth of them. But she’d asked for their help anyway.

Their prediction had come true. Maria had gotten what she’d wished for most that night when they’d bent, quietly, over the Ouija board.

She’d wished to be alone.

Mateo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wincing. “Just tell me what you did. Like you promised.”

“I promised,” Maria echoed.

Thunder cracked above them. The rain drilled into Maria’s eyes. She didn’t shiver as she stared up at the dark, drowned sky. Maybe the spirits would spare her.

They shouldn’t.

But she’d done their will. And they’d done hers.

She’d drugged Delilah. She’d ruined Mateo’s life. She was responsible for Brandon’s death.

She’d brought an evil, destructive force out into the world. A force that had murdered the only two people she’d ever loved.

She deserved to pay for all the things she’d done. The spirits would make sure she did, one way or another.

“Look, just tell me,” Mateo said.