Elizabeth was shaking her head and backing away from them, but Gideon wrapped his arm around her again to stop her.

“Leave her alone,” he said sharply, halting them in their advance, but their expressions revealed their determination to learn the truth.

“Tell us,” Cybil urged. “What good will it do to keep it a secret?”

Elizabeth drew an unsteady breath. “I don’t know if it was that exactly,” she hedged.

“But something very similar,” Cybil guessed.

“I saw horses running toward me,” Elizabeth admitted.

“Toward you?” Tilly echoed.

“Not me exactly, but . . . it was like I could see it through his eyes, the man who was struck.”

“Did you feel his pain?” Cindy’s mother inquired a little too curiously.

But Elizabeth shook her head. “Not really, but I . . . I knew he felt it and he was screaming. Did I scream?”

“You did,” Gideon informed her with a disapproving frown. “It took everything in me not to rush in there.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t do it on purpose,” she lied.

“How do you know he’s going to die?” Persephone asked. Something in her voice betrayed more than a casual interest.

“I don’t,” Elizabeth insisted. “I mean, I pray he doesn’t but . . .”

“What made you think he was going to die?” Gideon asked, framing the question he assumed Persephone wanted to ask. “Because that’s what you said.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes against an unpleasant vision. “I knew he was in terrible pain and then . . . then everything stopped and went black. He was . . . at peace somehow.”

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know what happened to him, though,” Tilly’s mother said with regret.

“Maybe we will,” Cindy’s father said. “Did you know that young man who came in to ask about the telephone, Persephone?”

Persephone seemed startled to be consulted. “I . . . Yes, I know him.”

“Is he a client?” Tilly asked. “From what he said, it sounded like he was.”

“Yes, he . . . Yes, he’s a client.”

“So you can find out what happened from him,” Tilly said. “He went with the man in the wagon.”

Cindy’s mother had been staring at Elizabeth with an unnatural intensity for a few moments. “You knew this was going to happen even before the séance, didn’t you?”

Elizabeth shook her head, but the woman ignored her silent denial.

“You knew,” Cindy’s mother insisted. “That’s why you were upset before you even came in. Your husband said you started to react as soon as you arrived.”

“That’s right,” Tilly said. “Which would have been when she reached the place where the accident actually happened.”

“So you knew it was going to happen even then,” Cindy’s mother insisted.

“Not really,” Elizabeth protested. “Not exactly, I mean. I just knew something bad was . . . was somehow associated with that place.”