She nodded. “The Jamestown settlers picked the perfect strategic location for their fort. Not only were they worried about the Powhatan Indians, they were also afraid the Spanish—who believed Florida extended all the way to Virginia—might sail up the river and attack them. The fort was so well situated the Confederate Army used it as a base to prevent the Union Army from reaching Richmond. Even now the U.S. military still brings troops here to study its strategic importance.”

“There must be ghosts that haunt this place,” I said. “Spirits of people who died at Jamestown under such horrible conditions.”

Josie gave me a startled look. “There are,” she said. “I feel them as I walk around these grounds. It’s as if the sadness and tragedy never left. It’s still here—in some places more than others—but it’s real.”

“All right, you two,” Quinn said, holding the door to the Archaearium for us. “Can we talk about something else besides Jamestown being haunted?”

After the cold, sharp wind that had buffeted us outside, it felt good to be somewhere warm.

“Sure,” Josie said. “Welcome to the Archaearium. The museum of Historic Jamestowne.”

“I’ve been here before,” I said.

She nodded. “Right after it opened. Now it holds more than four thousand artifacts. It’s expanded a lot in the last decade. One of the things I especially like is the fact that because the museum is located right here at the settlement, whatever has been discovered in the field is integrated into the exhibits almost immediately. It’s rare to have a museum that’s so current and up to date.”

A sinewy map of the James River was painted on the floor in the lobby where we stood; a mural in shades of brown and tan depicting London in the early 1600s as a hurly-burly city with the Thames flowing behind it proclaimed THE VIRGINIA COMPANY in bold white letters with a description of how a group of investors decided to take a chance on establishing a colony in Virginia.

England. Where it all began.

“There are eight galleries laid out chronologically,” Josie said. “We’ll follow them clockwise through the museum.”

“Are we the only people here?” I asked.

“We might be,” she said. “Though there will be at least one person from the museum staff in the gift shop. It’s the last stop.”

Though the floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides of the building let in plenty of natural light as we walked through the exhibits, on this gloomy, overcast day the somber exhibitions looked especially stark and sobering. Our footsteps seemed to echo; I was certain we were alone.