Lucas looks down at the marble floor, his hands clenched into fists.

“It came to light during one of her parties,” says Dad. “A fire started, and quickly spread through the house. Everyone got out in time, or so they thought. And yet, there were voices coming from the burning house.” He swallows hard. “Even after the fire was put out, they heard pleading, and the dull pounding of fists. It was only when the ashes cooled that they discovered why.”

He looks down.

“LaLaurie had kept her slaves locked in the attic.”

Bile rises in my throat.

“When the fire started, they had no way to escape.”

Jacob shudders. Lara’s hand goes to her mouth. The Veil reaches out, ready to pull me through, and I push back with all my might because I can’t face the other side, and for once, it has nothing to do with the Emissary.

“Some events are so terrible,” says Mom, “they seep into the bones of a place. They stain its past, its present, and its future.” She gestures around her. “This is an angry house. As it should be. Madame LaLaurie was never punished for her monstrous crime. She and her husband fled to France, leaving pain and injustice in their wake.” Mom takes a deep breath, and steps, like a diver, down the darkened hall. But I’m not ready to follow.

I’m relieved when Lucas steps in front of me.

“You should go,” he says quietly. “This is no place for …” I wonder if he’s about to say in-betweeners, but after a moment he just says, “children.”

Usually, I’d protest, insist I’m old enough for whatever’s waiting inside, but this time, I don’t want to get closer. I can’t bear the thought of those rooms. I wish I didn’t know what happened here, even though Mom says that knowing is a kind of respect. A way of honoring the dead.

“Are you coming?” Dad asks me and Lara.

“I don’t think they should,” says Lucas. My parents and our guide exchange a three-way look, the kind of silent conversation grown-ups have sometimes.

And then Dad nods and says, “You’re right.”

He hands me some cash and tells us to go get a snack, to meet them outside the mansion in an hour. With that, the Inspecters and their crew head deeper into the darkened house, and Jacob and Lara and I back out onto the street. The Veil retreats as we step beyond the iron gate. I lean against a lamppost, shaking from the force of it.

“When I say we should skip the haunted house, you never listen …” Jacob mutters.

We set out down Royal, eager to put as much distance between us and the LaLaurie Mansion as possible.

As we walk and walk, I can’t help but wonder, where is the Emissary?