“Clean or bounce,” she informed Lightfoot. “Those are the choices.” She turned to D.D. and Alex. “That goes for you two, as well. This is a working psych ward, not an after-dinner show. Earn your keep, or get lost.”

D.D. looked at Alex. He shrugged his agreement, so they crossed the common area and helped themselves to cleaning supplies. A small price to pay.

Apparently, Andrew thought the same. He got his hands on a roll of paper towels. “Your father needs to talk to you—” he started, his attention back on Danielle.

“Not interested.”

“Hatred is a negative energy, Danielle. Denying him only hurts yourself.”

“Stop it. We’ve already had this conversation. Your mumbo jumbo is your business. I’m not going there. For God’s sake, didn’t you do enough damage with Ozzie?”

Lightfoot frowned. D.D. perked up.

“Ozzie made remarkable progress,” the healer told Danielle. “His entire family was on the path to becoming more centered and loving—”

“His entire family is dead.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure it wasn’t Ozzie’s fault.”

“You’re sure? How? Ozzie’s soul tell you that on the interplanes?”

Good question, D.D. thought.

“Unfortunately,” Lightfoot said, “while souls enter this plane to experience the corporal world, once they leave they show little interest in the physical realities encountered here. Ozzie’s soul is not fixated on corporal death. Instead, he’s moved on to the next set of desired experiences. Which is how it should be.”

“Really?” Danielle mocked, starting to scrub the nearest table. “So Ozzie, a young boy who was brutally murdered, has already moved on, but my father, twenty-five years later, still wants to chat.”

Lightfoot shrugged. “Your father’s soul has unfinished business. The lesson has not been learned. The experience isn’t completed.”

“And Lucy?”

“I dreamt of her last night,” Lightfoot said. “She was dancing among the moonbeams of my mind. I knew immediately she was someone special, a being of incredible light and love. She told me she loves you. And she asked me to help you. She worries about you, senses the sadness in your heart.”

“Yeah? Did she tell you who killed her, too? Or is that too mundane a topic for your higher mind?”

D.D. looked expectantly at Lightfoot. Another excellent question.

“Death is merely a transition,” Lightfoot started, and across the table from D.D., Danielle rolled her eyes. D.D. found herself liking the nurse more than she should.

Lightfoot remained steadfast. “The unit is acute. You must find your forgiveness, Danielle. You must open your heart to love. Let go of your past. If you don’t, the dark forces will win.”

“And now a message from our sponsor,” Danielle said. “Hello, One-Nine-Hundred Rent A Soul? My boyfriend has a thing for asps, so for next Friday night, can I borrow Cleopatra?”

“I’m not joking,” Andrew said stiffly.

“Neither am I.”