Eric the groom took a seat on her other side and pulled the board closer. They should really be sitting in a ring, but Esther lacked the wherewithal to explain, simply falling forward to rest her fingers on the glass set in the middle of the board. The gothic-script letters swam around the edge of her vision.

“I’ll keep you safe.” Barista Nick had his arm over Esther’s shoulders.

“We’ll keep you safe.” Another arm draped across her.

“Spirits . . .” Esther mumbled.

“I’ve got some vodka . . .”

“. . . of the other world!” Esther forced out, her eyelids heavy. “Hear our . . .”

Her trance was so intense that her head flopped to the side to rest on Eric the groom’s shoulder before a noxious burst of his cologne revived her.

“Hear our calls.”

The glass swept quickly across the board, which was odd, because they hadn’t asked it any questions yet.

“Oh, my god!” Barista Nick gasped. “It’s saying it’s angry!”

“Wha . . . ?” The letters were coming too fast for Esther to read.

“Why are you angry, spirits? What have we done to upset you?” Eric the groom asked, the glass completely out of Esther’s control.

“It says your corset reminds him of the one his wife wore when she . . .” Barista Nick gasped, eyes wide with horror. “When she murdered him.”

“Quick, take it off!” Eric the groom reached across for the knot at the top of Esther’s bodice.

“What? No!” Esther tried to move away, but with Barista Nick on top of her, it was hard to move. “I didn’t see that . . . Spirit, show yourself!”

The glass remained at rest for a second, and in that briefest of pauses, there was a faint, unmistakable knock.

Rap-rap.

Barista Nick and Eric the groom exchanged a glance across Esther. All three of them had one hand on the Ouija board. Barista Nick’s other arm was around Esther, and Eric the groom’s left hand was in plain view, still reaching hopefully toward Esther’s corset.

“Spirit?” Esther said in surprise.

Rap-rap-rap.

And then a disembodied voice, quiet and muffled.

“I’m looking for Esther de Groot? Is she there?”

The scream from behind the door was bloodcurdling in its enthusiasm.

“I’M HERE, SPIRITS OF THE OTHER WORLD! COME IN!” Daisy tried the handle and opened the door. There was a lot of information to process in the tableau presented inside. A Ouija board, candles . . . an enraptured Esther, and two boys whose expressions were slowly climbing their way from terror into shame.

“Who are you?” one of the boys said, aiming for aggressive and coming off sulky.

“Daisy!” Esther leaped up, trampling over the Ouija board to fall forward into Daisy’s arms. “The spirits, they spoke to me!”

“They did?” Daisy battled an excess of limbs. Esther’s eyes were wide, and she seemed incapable of standing. “What did they say?”

Confusion clouded Esther’s face. “They told me to take off my corset . . .”