She spun to see Jackin’ Jill coming up slowly behind her. “I knew you’d find your way in here eventually.” Jill looked out over the sleeping children, all lined up in neat little rows. “These are all kids who didn’t make it to the light.”

Mary found herself stunned into silence. These children were Afterlights still in transition. They were Interlights.

“It takes nine months to pass from the living world into Everlost,” said Jill. “I thought you’d know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Mary was finally able to say, “but I’ve never seen … I mean, I’ve never actually found any in this state.”

“Is that so?” said Jackin’ Jill with a wry grin. “Well, I find them all the time.” She wandered among the dead-not-dead Interlight children, and Mary followed. “I find them, then I bring them here. How do you think Pugsy wound up with so many loyal subjects?”

Mary found her quick-mindedness slowed to a crawl by this revelation. Pugsy didn’t need soul traps to catch Afterlights—he got them even before they were born into Everlost. Mary knelt to one of the silent children, a boy no older than ten, in a state of perfect peace. There was a number written in chalk on the ground next to him. A date. In fact, each of them had dates written beside them. “The dates each of them died?” asked Mary.

“How could they be,” asked Jill, “when all the dates are in the future?”

Mary glanced at several of the dates, but they meant little to her. She didn’t keep track of time in the living world.

“Those are the dates that each of them will ripen,” Jill said, and Mary realized that was her crude way of saying that these were the dates the children would awaken in Everlost.

“How is it that you can find so many, when I’ve never found one before they’ve woken up?”

“Maybe you don’t know where to look.”

Mary gave her a cold glare. “If you’re going to toy with me, then we have nothing more to talk about.” Then she turned her back on Jill and wove through the evenly spaced grid of hibernating children.

“It’s the amulet,” Jill finally admitted. “It glows when something devastating is about to happen. Something like a fatal accident …”

Mary turned to Jill, glancing at the blue-gemmed pendant she wore around her neck. It looked like cheap costume jewelry—but Mary was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Certainly accidents, and untimely deaths, must set off ripples—not only in the living world, but through all levels of creation. It was possible that an object could resonate with such events—but how could Jill know specifically which accidents would result in a child falling short of the light, and into Everlost?

When the truth struck Mary, it struck deeply, as only the truth could.