Elizabeth froze for a long moment, and then her eyes flew open. She turned to Andy’s sister, Tilly, who was watching her with mingled fascination and horror. “You,” she barked, making everyone jump but especially Tilly. “You can take care of your mother. Trust no one else.” Then she shuddered and her head dropped forward, chin resting on her chest as Madame Ophelia had done at the end of her spirit visitation.

She sat that way for a long moment until Tilly said, “Miss, are you all right?”

Before Elizabeth could decide whether to answer or not, Madame Ophelia cried out, “I’m getting a message.”

“What is it?” Cindy’s mother asked anxiously. “Is it for me?”

“Is it Andy?” his mother demanded.

Elizabeth shook herself again and roused with a small moan. No use in trying to steal the attention back. Her work was done, and besides, she wanted to see what Madame Ophelia was up to. She raised both hands to her face and opened her eyes. Everyone else was watching Madame scribbling on the paper that had been lying on the table beside her with the pencil that had been with it. Oddly, she was writing with her left hand and not even looking at the paper. Her eyes were blank, staring at nothing, and she held the rest of her body perfectly still.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Elizabeth asked, not even needing to pretend she was confused.

“Spirit writing,” Tilly whispered with what might have been disdain.

Whatever it was, it was impressive if what she was writing ended up making any sense.

After another minute or two, Madame stopped. The pencil fell from her fingers and she sighed wearily, sagging back in her chair.

“What does it say?” Cindy’s mother demanded.

Andy’s mother snatched up the paper and peered at it in the dim light. “I can’t . . .” she said, squinting at it.

“Here,” Tilly said impatiently, grabbing it from her mother. She looked over the paper and then smiled slightly. “It says, ‘Trust the words she speaks. They are the truth.’ ”

“Trust whose words?” Cindy’s mother asked.

“Madame Ophelia’s,” Andy’s mother guessed.

“But you always trust her words,” Tilly said, still smiling smugly. “Why would the spirits need to confirm them? They must mean this lady. What’s your name? You never told us.”

“Mrs. Bates,” Madame Ophelia quickly supplied, reminding everyone she was in charge.

“Are you supposed to be a medium, too?” Cindy’s father asked, his doubt apparent.

“I have no idea,” Elizabeth said. “I just . . . Did I say something? Did it happen again?”

“Mrs. Bates is just learning about her abilities,” Madame Ophelia said. “I invited her here tonight to see if the spirits would speak through her once more.”

“Once more?” Andy’s mother echoed. “Have you done this before?”

“I . . . I don’t know. They say I did,” Elizabeth admitted.