“Oh, yes. She’s a big star over here. She does the weather report on Channel Eight,” Mrs. Robinson informed me with pride. “I was staying with her and her husband for a while, but I just can’t take the stairs in their house. I’ve got bad knees and bad hips. Arthritis. And the humidity doesn’t help.”

“Well, we’re glad to have you here,” I assured her. “We should put in your dinner order. It’s almost seven.”

Ignoring me, or perhaps just eager to get back onto the topic of invisibles now that she’d found someone she assumed qualified as an appropriate audience, Mrs. Robinson told me, “My daughter doesn’t like when I talk about voodoo. Especially around here. She says people who aren’t from the bayou don’t want to hear about loa and mystères. She thinks that kind of talk scares you city folk. But then you show up in my suite with an angry invisible following you!” She chuckled. It hadn’t escaped my attention that she’d referred to Jennie as “angry.” “Just goes to show, voodoo’s everywhere. It’s the way the universe works, ma chèrie.”

Before moving to Florida, I’d never been farther south than Chicago, so I knew very little about bayous or the practice of voodoo. When Kirsten had told me over the winter that I had paranormal abilities, I’d been more alarmed than delighted, and it had taken a while for me to adjust to the idea that my abilities might give me leverage in combating the evil spirits that were issuing orders to Violet. But Mrs. Robinson’s awareness of Jennie’s presence piqued my interest, even though I wasn’t convinced that I wanted to formally develop my connection to the “other side.” As much as I longed for my life to be restored to normalcy, Jennie was still reaching out with regularity, and the spell I had to cast every morning to safeguard the Portnoys was a source of stress. Perhaps this Oscawana Pavilion resident could teach me how to communicate with Jennie and find out what she so urgently wanted, as well as aid me in finding a way to break the curse on Mischa without jeopardizing anyone else’s safety.

“Okay,” I sighed, hoping Luis would be able to correct my time card when I made my way down to the first floor. I didn’t want to get in trouble my second week on the job for incurring overtime without getting approval first. And after so many months of chasing Violet in maddening circles, I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high that this woman would be able to provide me with actionable answers. “I surrender. Tell me more about this invisible and why she’s angry at me.”

Mrs. Robinson leaned back in her chair, smiling, and pressed her hands together. “She’s not angry at you. She’s trying to talk to you, and you won’t listen!”

“I am listening,” I insisted. “I don’t know how to hear her. Sometimes I ask her questions with a pendulum, but she doesn’t always answer. Do you know what she’s trying to tell me?”