And of course they were.

How had I ever thought she could take them on by herself? After all I’d endured since the fall, after all that Trey and I had done… Now Henry was either dead or dying on the floor, and Mischa was blinking around the room as if she didn’t recognize any of us or her surroundings.

There’s no way to accurately describe in mere words the sensation that I felt next, because it was incorporeal, but I sensed myself—my soul—being pulled further into the core of my body. Not into the core as in my stomach, but inward, as if being sucked into a whirlpool leading to another place. Another dimension, perhaps. I sensed Jennie vanishing there, as if she was being pulled into a black hole, but tightening her hold on me as she slipped. She was pulling me with her.

I could only trust that it was best for us to stay together. As much as I loved Mom, Dad, and Trey, nothing was quite the same as the bond I shared with Jennie. If she wanted me to accompany her wherever it was that the spirits were taking her, then I would go. I sensed my presence in the living room fading away. Violet’s voice was shouting, “What’s happening?” Trey was yelling my name. My view of the room bounced up and down, and I realized it was because he had grabbed my body by the shoulders and was shaking it.

Then, suddenly, everything changed.

A cold blast of air blew right through me, or at least it felt as if it swept right through my body—from my feet, up, and out of the top of my head. I had no idea what had happened except that all of my bodily sensations returned in an overwhelming rush. My fingers were wrapped tightly around my neck, and I released them, allowing air to pass into my windpipe and lungs in a dizzying gust. I felt warm wetness on my feet and realized that Henry had been bleeding onto me, soaking my shoes. My left hip ached from where it had hit the wooden frame of the sofa, and a scratchy burn crept up my throat. I hacked to try and clear it, as well as catch my breath.

I knew, without even checking the radio waves, that Jennie was gone. Our connection was broken. My attempt to command my fingers to remove the earbud from my right ear failed; I couldn’t seem to make my hands obey all of my mind’s orders yet.

But Trey and Violet weren’t paying attention to what was happening to me. They weren’t looking at Mischa, either, where she sat as if hypnotized. Both of them had fixed their eyes on the front door, and when I found the strength to raise my head, I understood why.

Mr. Simmons was barreling toward us. I hadn’t even heard the front door open and close, and yet he was there, racing through the room. His ice-blue eyes darted from Henry’s body on the floor to where Violet stood in front of me with the gun dangling from her fingertips at her side.