Margot felt like she was being tested—as though the correct answer would unlock some deeper level of communication, some closer bond where secrets could be shared—but she still had no words for what she’d encountered in the shed. She clenched her hands at her side then forced them to relax. “I…don’t know. But I don’t think it was…natural.” The words hung, unanswered, and Margot pushed further, urged on by desperation. “I think…I think it might have been Louisa Hull.”

Nora and Ray shared a glance that lasted half a second. Their faces were blank slates. Then Nora ran her hands over her pants, picking out tiny flecks of lint. “Well, that sounds like a strange kind of experience.”

“Oh, it’s already dusk,” Ray said. His voice was mild, his smile gentle, as though they’d been discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. “We should probably head out. We’ve been here plenty long enough, haven’t we, Nora?”

“I’d say so. Who’s best to drive?”

“That would be you.” Ray placed the glasses into a tray behind the counter, which already held several others waiting to be washed. “I suspect I’m over the limit.”

Margot felt as though she was deflating. She’d been certain that Nora and Ray had seen something, heard something, knew something. But they were not only failing to confirm her suspicions, they were ignoring them entirely.

Did I misread things? Something had upset them before I arrived, hadn’t it? Reality slipped over her. Yes, they had been bothered by something. But Margot had been presumptuous to assume they were tormented by the same kind of apparitions she thought she’d seen. They might have had an unpleasant customer. An argument. A piece of bad news. There was no reason it had to be supernatural in nature.

“I’m very glad you came to visit,” Nora said, finding Margot’s arm on the way past and squeezing it lightly. “Pop in anytime. I’m always up for a bit of a chat.”

“Right.” She felt her voice shake with forming tears and humiliation. She knew she must look stupid. Childish. Indulging in superstitions. Leaning into some kind of supernatural narrative the first moment she had the chance. The people who worked at Gallows Hill had been there for years; they were probably tired of the cursed land legends that floated through town. And now their new owner was not only listening to them but falling into the rampant paranoia.

But…I didn’t imagine any of it. Did I?