Everyone seemed relieved to hear this, especially Persephone, who probably hadn’t relished the thought of explaining to Madame Ophelia that they had to cancel the séance.

“I’ll go see if Madame is ready for you,” Persephone said, hurrying off.

“What did it feel like?” the other woman asked. “You said it was dread and a feeling of foreboding.”

“I don’t think I can describe it,” Elizabeth said. “But it reminded me of how I felt when I thought Gideon was going to die of the flu.” She looked up at him lovingly and took his hand in hers to squeeze it.

A murmur of sympathy came from all the others, and they looked at Gideon with new eyes. He straightened, feeling somehow obligated to look healthier, as if he deserved to have survived when so many others had not.

“My Andy died of the flu,” Tilly’s mother said.

“I’m sorry,” Gideon said. No one else spoke. They had probably already offered their condolences long since.

An awkward silence fell until Persephone returned and announced that Madame was ready for them. She collected the fees from everyone except Elizabeth, who was the last to file into the room.

“I’ll be right here if you need me, darling,” Gideon said, surprised at the apprehension he felt, even though he knew Elizabeth was in no danger whatsoever.

She gave him a wan smile and entered the séance room.

Everyone had taken the same seats as before, leaving Elizabeth to face Madame Ophelia across the table. They all looked at her expectantly, even Madame Ophelia. She said, “I’m fine, really.”

“Persephone said you were overcome by a feeling of foreboding,” Madame said in an accusatory tone that Elizabeth found unnecessary.

“That’s how I would describe it, but it passed. Perhaps I’m just a bit nervous since you all obviously have great expectations that I don’t think I can fulfill.”

“We have no expectations,” Madame insisted, although Elizabeth could tell the rest of them were disappointed to hear her say so. “The spirits will speak if they choose. It is not our decision to make, and we cannot force them or stop them.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, settling more comfortably in her chair. She let her shoulders sag in relief.

Madame nodded once as if glad to have that settled. Then she said, “Write down your questions, please.”

They did so, dropping them into the bag and witnessing the ritual burning. When Persephone had gone, Madame instructed them to place their hands on the table and clear their minds. The séance proceeded as usual, with Madame answering some of the questions or at least offering platitudes until Elizabeth interrupted her with a tortured moan.

She’d closed her eyes, but she could actually feel the sudden tension in the room. She moaned again.

“Who is it? Who is there?” Madame demanded.

“No,” Elizabeth groaned, swaying a bit in her chair. “No, stop!”