Beyond the French doors was the library. Well over a dozen of the carved cases lined the walls. In the center of the room, piled over and around a sagging velvet couch, was a mountain of old books. Laurel ran her fingers over the rough, woven covers. Most were beyond saving. Damp and dust had tarnished the embossed titles so that each book was anonymous—every one a mystery. She’d have to read them all just to figure out what they were. She felt the corners of her mouth pulling upward, imagined herself perched on a sunny mountain outcrop, working her way through a stack of these old books. Penciling a price inside the covers—stashing some away for herself.

She plucked one from the pile and opened it. The dry fabric spine crackled, the brittle pages fluttering like dead moth wings.

“ . . . everything within my view which ought to be white, had been white long ago, and had lost its lustre, and was faded and yellow. I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes . . . ”

I feel you, Pip.

“Damn it, Laurel!” Ash’s voice bellowed down the hall.

Laurel jumped and rushed back out to the corridor. “Ash? What is it? What’s the matter?”

“You tell me to sleep, but I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to do that if you won’t shut up!”

Laurel froze. Those were Mom’s words. Was that her voice? “ . . . Mom?”

Ashley stormed around the corner, hobbling on her bad foot, and stopped in front of the elevator shaft. She glared at Laurel through the thin light of the hall.

“Ash, stop, you’re standing in—”

“Who were you yelling at?”

“What?” Laurel shook her head, partly from confusion and partly to try and clear the fog that throbbed at her temples.

“And why were you laughing? I want to know what’s so fucking funny about today.”

“Ash, I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t talking at all.”

“I heard you!”

“I’ve been right here! Looking at the books, quietly, I swear.”

Ashley’s brow drew down. “You’re serious.”

“Yes! Now will you move? You’re standing in blood.”

Ash looked down. “Where?”

“All over! I think we should probably get you to a doctor.”

“I don’t see any.”

“What are you talking about? It’s everywhere.” Laurel walked over to Ashley.

The floor was dry and grey. The dust was disturbed only where their boots had kicked furrows through the debris. “It was here. There was a huge puddle.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!” Laurel knelt, running her fingers through the dirt, digging as if a hundred years of dust could have settled over it while she read.

“You saw a pool of blood, and now it’s gone?”