“Well, I’m here now. What’s dangerous? Who don’t you want to see you? Have you found Peaches?”

“She’s … I think she’s with the others. They’re all together, Lily. Five of them.”

“Together where?”

“I don’t know, but they’re … they’re dead.”

My breath caught. “Hold on, step back a second. How do you know that?”

“It’s Luis. That guy you work with. He did it. He hurt them, Lily. I knew there was something wrong with him, but I didn’t do anything about it, and now look.”

“That’s insane,” I said automatically. But a thought jolted me—did this have something to do with why Luis was MIA? “Clara. Jesus. Okay, tell me from the beginning.”

“I saw him, in front of my shop. I think he followed me there. And then I have this vision, and it’s of women, five of them. All … all bruised up. They’re like, arranged.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re in the marsh somewhere. There’s all this mud and grass and flies.” She flinched. “And they’re all in a row, lined up.”

I didn’t know if I couldn’t picture it or if I just didn’t want to. “Who are they? Peaches? Julie Zale?”

“I couldn’t make out their faces, but it has to be them, Lily. Who else could it be? And I’m scared. Why did he come to me? He knows where the shop is, he knows where I live. I’m leaving. This weekend. I need to get the hell out of here, for real this time.”

“Clara, I think you need to go to the cops. I mean, if what you’re saying is true …”

“Call the cops and tell them what, exactly? Hey, I’m a psychic and I happen to know there are dead women in the marsh? You think they’ll listen?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how this works. You have to be able to leave an anonymous tip or something, right?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I’ll think about it, but mostly I’m here to say goodbye. There’s a bus heading west tomorrow, and I want to be on it.”

“Just wait another day or two, okay? We can figure this out. I’m sure we can find a way to get the police involved. I just need time to think. Promise me you won’t go yet?” Maybe it was selfish, but if Clara stayed, I thought I could protect her. After all, I knew where Luis was most of his days. I knew his schedule. And I wasn’t sure that Clara should leave without a plan—she was still just sixteen. She’d end up somewhere else without anyone to turn to, being exploited in the same ways.