“He wasn’t, though. He hardly knew her. I think she must be, uh, not in her right mind.”

“Her actions do seem to indicate that,” Elizabeth said. “I only wish I could blame her instead of myself. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since I first had the vision of Mr. Miller’s death—”

“So you did know he was going to die,” Persephone cried, horrified.

Elizabeth slapped her hand over her mouth as if she could hold back the words she’d already spoken.

“Why didn’t you tell him? Warn him?” Persephone demanded.

“I did warn him,” Elizabeth tried. “I told him to be careful. What more could I have done?”

“You could have told him who to be careful of!”

“But I didn’t know. I told you, I only saw the knife, not who was holding it, and when I told Madame Ophelia that I knew he was going to die, she advised me not to tell him. She said people really don’t want to know.”

Persephone’s eyes widened in horror. “She told you not to tell him?”

“She thought it would be a kindness, and I was just relieved because I couldn’t bear to hurt him like that.”

Persephone shuddered. “I can’t believe she’d do that.”

“Would it have changed anything, do you think?” Elizabeth asked.

“He would have been on his guard, at least.”

“But don’t you think he was already? Would knowing for a fact that he was going to die have made his last days more pleasant?”

Persephone covered her face with both hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t, either.” Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I never asked for this so-called gift, and it has brought me nothing but misery. I wish to heaven I’d never gone to that first séance.”

“I wish you hadn’t, too. No amount of money is worth a person’s life.”

“Do you think Mr. Miller and that other man wouldn’t have died if I hadn’t foreseen it?” Elizabeth asked with a troubled frown.

“I don’t know. I guess we never will.”

Elizabeth let her contemplate that for a long moment. Then she said, “What did you mean that no amount of money is worth a person’s life?”

Persephone looked up in surprise. “Did I say that? Well, it’s true, of course.”

“Yes, it is, but . . . Did you mean Mr. Miller in particular?”

“No. I mean, I just mean . . .”

Elizabeth widened her eyes in comprehension. “Was this business deal the one the spirits told him about?”

“I don’t—”

“It is, isn’t it?” Elizabeth said. “He was there, in that hotel room, because the spirits sent him there.”

“Uh, that’s possible. I don’t really know. I don’t attend the séances and Madame doesn’t tell me what happens—”