She shrugs. Her tears have subsided for the time being. “No one checks up on it during the winter. The electricity and heat are wired the same way they were in 1996. It’s the grandest house I’ve ever worked in. Made much grander by your mother’s decorating, of course. Unfortunately, that’s all gone now.” She gives me a sad smile, her crooked teeth making her look even more pitiful. “Just talk to me a little longer, please, Suzy? Then I promise I’ll leave with you.” I’ll give her a minute, I decide. One more minute before we leave. Maybe it’ll make our journey easier, pacify her.

She lies back on the bed. “Do you remember the kitchen, Suzy? We spent so much time there. Probably the most time in there. Back then it was yellow. The salt-and-pepper shakers were shaped like birds. Do you remember that? You would play with them. There were always grains of salt everywhere. And the way the light shone through at sunset, God, it was beautiful. You would come in and track dirt, and I’d put your feet in the sink and wash it off. It tickled you, the water. You once kicked me in the nose. It was an accident, of course.” She lets her arms hang loosely at her sides, and a gooey smile crosses her face, her eyes fading like what she’s saying is happening right in front of her, a trapdoor into the past.

A tremor starts up my spine. There’s something off-kilter about the way she’s speaking, a melody that could easily transform into a discordant screech. I need to get out of here. I shuffle over to the other side of the room and finally dial the taxi. Someone answers. They need the address of where she’s staying.

I ask her, but she doesn’t respond. I ask again. I ask again and again and again, my voice rising. Anneliese still doesn’t answer. I won’t have her dropped off with me at the train station, buying herself a ticket, following me back to the city. I feel my hand begin to throb as I grip the phone tighter and tighter.

“Miss, we can’ t dispatch a cab to you unless we know both passengers’ drop-off addresses.”

I snap my fingers. “Anneliese! Please tell me where you’re staying.” But she just lies there, mumbling. I hang up the phone with a bang. The console crashes to the floor.

I’m about to redial, have the cab take me alone. But then Anneliese’s voice rings out, clear as a bell this time. “I took that bracelet so Georgia would go away. She wasn’t good for you or for us.” I narrow my eyes, stride back toward her against my better judgment.

“Excuse me?”