It took about twenty minutes of scrolling before Christina shouted, “There!” She pointed at the glowing screen. “H.M.S. Pinafore.”

The picture included several people in costume on the set of the boat, including one woman out front in a white dress, holding a parasol.

I leaned forward to read the caption. “Constance Graves as Josephine!”

“Wow. She was a looker.”

I couldn’t help but agree. Just then the phone rang.

“I’ll be right back,” Christina said, hurrying away.

I nodded and turned back to the photo. There was something almost mesmerizing about it. So much life captured, frozen in time.

And yet not quite.

The strangest sensation fell over me.

It was like I could almost see the skirts of the women twirling. The furious goings-on happening behind the scenes.

I could hear something too. Sounds far off in the distance. Singing. Feet stamping out time. Gasps. Laughter. Applause.

The heat of the floodlights warmed my—Constance’s—face as I stepped forward to the front of the stage, holding out one arm, then dipping in a low curtsy, head bowing to the audience’s praise.

“Wait a minute,” a voice said.

I jolted and brought a hand to my heart.

“Sorry,” Christina laughed. “Although it’s good to see I’m not the only one who can be transfixed.”

“Wow. I was really in the moment.” Like really in the moment. I had never been a medium for ghosts before, but those sensations had felt like Constance’s memories. If I had to guess, she was in the library with us. Watching, hoping maybe I would figure out what it was she wanted me to know.

I gave my head a shake. “What was it you were going to say?”

“Just that I recognize someone in that photo,” she said, pointing at a man dressed smartly as a sailor off to the side of the frame.

“Who is it?”

“My dad.”

Chapter 19

That’s your dad?”

“Yeah, and by the way he is looking at Constance, let’s just say I’m glad my mother’s not here.”

I shot her a worried look.

She patted my shoulder. “I’m kidding. I think they’re past that stage.” She leaned back and a thoughtful look came over her face.

“Is everything all right?”

“I was just wondering when I last spoke to him. He never mentioned knowing Constance, and it seems to be all everyone is talking about these days. He’s supposed to be coming by though. My mom usually makes a big meal on Sundays, and he brings over the leftovers. They’re always worried I’m not taking care of myself.”

I chuckled. “I know a little what that’s like.”

“You should stick around and ask him about Constance. He obviously knew her,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

The sound of a book hitting the floor startled us both. My gaze snapped back over to the front desk, and sure enough there was the ghost story Christina had been reading earlier splayed across the floor.