“Magnus is in the old conservatory with Jem and Tessa. Tessa’s in labor, but, like, they seem like it’s not a big deal or anything. They’re just sitting around and talking about stuff. But, you know, it was kind of freaking me out. Like, she’s going to have a baby, you know? Which is cool! But I thought I should give them some space.”

“Okay, thanks,” Livvy said. “Great to see you, Kit. Sorry I scared you. Sort of.”

And then she was in the conservatory, which had been completely outfitted for a musician. There was a grand piano in one corner, and various instruments hanging on a beautiful wooden cabinet. Jem was playing a cello, his long hands drawing the bow across the strings as if he were coaxing out those low, beautiful, belling notes. Tessa was pacing, slowly, along a glass wall, one hand on her great belly and the other on her back. Magnus was nowhere to be seen.

Livvy wasn’t really thinking about Magnus, though. Not anymore. All of her attention was focused on Tessa. On the hand that rested on the pregnant belly. She could not take her eyes away.

There was a voice in Livvy’s head, way below the song that Jem was playing, below the sounds of the living hearts that beat in the conservatory: Jem, Tessa, and the unborn baby. She almost recognized the voice. It belonged to someone who had once been very dear to her. “Livvy,” it was saying. “Something’s wrong. I think that something’s wrong.”

Livvy did her best to ignore the voice. She thought, If I make myself very small, I bet that I could do the thing I am thinking of. I could make myself so very small that I could slip into that baby. I wouldn’t take up much room at all. A baby is hardly a person at all, really. If I took the place of whoever the baby is going to be, if I wanted a do-over, it wouldn’t hurt Tessa and Jem at all. They would be good parents to me. And I would be a good daughter. I was good when I was alive! I could be good again. And it isn’t fair. I shouldn’t have died. I ought to get another chance. Why shouldn’t I have another chance?

She drew closer to Tessa. Tessa groaned.

“What is it?” Jem said, putting down his bow. “Is it my rank, terrible playing? Magnus may have magically transformed this space to be hospitable to instruments, but I am still an amateur when it comes to the cello.” His face changed. “Or is it time? Shall we go back to the house?”

Tessa shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “But drawing nearer. Keep playing. It helps me.”

“Magnus will be back soon with the herbs you wanted,” Jem said.