She hadn’t told Merritt what she was going to try to do. She didn’t know what he would think of the idea. She supposed that he would support whatever she wanted to do, but she didn’t want to worry him. He was always incredibly respectful of Baraccus as her husband, and Magda’s feelings about him.

But Baraccus was gone.

Magda was alone, now. She had people who cared about her, but she felt alone without Baraccus. It was a terrible feeling to miss him, and at the same time realize that he was gone and that he never could be in her life again. She didn’t know how to find peace.

She thought that maybe if she knew why he had killed himself, that would help.

Merritt understood. As much as it stood unspoken between them, he understood. She wasn’t sure that she did. Merritt, though, gave her respectful distance because of Baraccus.

In a way, she wished he wouldn’t. But she didn’t know how to get beyond what was lost.

It wasn’t fair to Merritt, of course, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help her feelings.

She felt like one of the spirits of the half people, lost between worlds, not knowing where she belonged.

Naja had understood. She’d said that it was a common problem. Letting go, she’d said, was often hard. She said that people came to her because they had difficulty letting go. Naja seemed to understand Magda’s conflicting emotions better than Magda did, and offered to help with a spirit reading so that her heart could find peace.

Shadow meowed softly as she materialized out of the darkness to rub against Naja’s side. After letting her tail drag across the spirit woman, the cat carefully stepped into Magda’s lap and curled up in a ball, where she promptly started her soft, steady purring.

The black cat seemed at peace among spirits.

“Can you ask him if he is at peace?”

Eyes still closed, Naja smiled. “I don’t need to ask him that. I can feel that he is.”

“He is? How is that possible? I mean, he’s gone, he’s alone . . . he’s without me . . .”

“It’s not that way for the spirits,” Naja said. “The concerns of our world, the concerns of our hearts, are not the same as the concerns of the underworld.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“As I told you before, in a way, and through me, if he will allow it. Ask.”

Magda swallowed. “Baraccus, I miss you so much.”

“He knows, Magda. He knows.”

Magda felt funny trying to talk about such deep, personal feelings through someone other than Baraccus. She knew that she had to try, though, if she wanted to ask him why he would have killed himself. This was her one chance.