“Yes,” he said. “Remember the woman who was with me before? That was Margot, your grandmother. This circus was named for her.”

Remembering the beautiful young woman, Lara made a face, thinking of Simon Webster, who was an old, grumpy man. They said he had been married to Margot, the woman from the posters, but that seemed impossible. “She’s not that old.”

“Well, she’d dead, ma cherie. She doesn’t age anymore.” The man smiled and put his hands on the back of his brown pants. “That was a fine circus, but that wasn’t the only circus that belonged to your family, you know. There was another once.” He had a rise to his voice like he was about to tell her a story. “It’s a magic circus, and it belongs to you.”

“Me?” This was news to Lara. She stood up straight. Now he had her attention.

“It’s true.” The man did something with his hands, and the circus tent seemed to perk up a little like extra poles had been added or an invisible hand had pulled it up. Color washed over it, brightening the blue and beige silks. A chandelier shone over them. The rusted and dingy artifacts that she’d dragged under the tent were soon replaced by clowns, and most of the space under the tent was now occupied by a spinning carousel. The man walked around to stand next to Lara. The girl looked up in wonder. Had this been what the circus was like? For some reason, she’d never imagined it so colorful. In her mind, it had been an old, shabby spectacle with aging clowns and rusted equipment. She thought all circuses were like that.

“How’d you do that?” Lara looked up in wonder.

“You can do it, too,” said the man. “Try it. Make the carousel spin.”

On cue, it stopped as though it were waiting for her.

She looked at him like he was crazy and giggled. “That’s silly. I can’t do that.”

“But that’s not true.” He smiled, leaning down to face her. “You do move things, don’t you? Ouija boards perhaps?”

Her eyes widened. It was one thing for this man to know her name, but to know about the Ouija board at Caren’s was entirely another. “How did you—?”

“No matter,” he said, brushing her off. “But you mustn’t fear your power.”

Yet she did fear the things she could do. Right here, with him performing for her, it was fun, like a magic trick at birthday parties. She was a spectator of sorts. Left to her own devices, though, this power frightened her.