“You’d be surprised,” Theresa said. “It’s a great relief to speak with those who’ve passed. My father died years ago, and he broke through once.”
“Doubtful,” I heard Noah mutter behind a cough.
“I’d still rather not.” I stood firm.
“It’s fine. She can just observe,” Lydia said, kneeling down in front of the coffee table. She grabbed an empty whiskey glass from the bar and placed it on the board upside down. It was a little bizarre to watch these grownups, who I’d known from afar almost my entire life, settle into a circle to hold a séance like a bunch of drunken teenagers.
Noah sat down in between Lydia and Matt, and I wondered if he was going to try to move the glass. They’d all be getting messages from their deceased relatives tonight, curtesy of Noah Dylan.
Sylvia still sat by the window. I met her gaze, and she looked frightened. I didn’t blame her. I’d only lived in this house a few years, but I was fairly convinced it was riddled with ghosts. Calling on them was just asking for trouble.
Theresa, who suddenly thought she was Psychic Sally, moved the glass around the board, saying she was “warming it up,” whatever that meant. She motioned everyone to place their fingers on the glass. Noah shot me a little smirk, and I shook my head. He was clearly enjoying the theatrics.
“I’d like to take this opportunity to let any spirits know we’re open to communicating with you. This is a safe space to come through and send a message to your loved ones.”
I glanced at Noah and put an imaginary gun to my head to blow my imaginary brains out. He chuckled quietly to himself.
“Is there anybody there?” Theresa asked, but the room remained silent and the glass stayed still. “Is there anybody there?” she asked again but still nothing. “Is there anybody there?” she asked a third time. A silence fell. Then, the glass started to move. I rolled my eyes cynically, trying not to give merit to the chills that skittered down my spine. One of them was pushing the glass, likely Noah.
The glass slid toward the engraved “yes” to indicate there was, in fact, a spirit present. I shook my head, about to leave. A part of me felt like this was all nonsense, but another part sensed danger. Then, a dizziness overcame me. My breathing quickened, and my pulse raced, as though I was in the midst of a panic attack. The room darkened, and it felt like all those around me were suspended in time.
Across the room was Sylvia. She looked much younger, and she held a baby in her arms, a baby with a shock of black hair who wouldn’t stop crying.
“He never quits,” she said. “Nothing will soothe him.”
“Give him to me,” a deep, mature voice replied. It was a man’s voice. I looked to my right and saw Victor standing there plain as day. Like Sylvia, he looked a lot younger than he did in the photographs I’d seen. He walked over to her, took the baby and left the room. The crying stopped. Feeling the urge, I followed and watched as he ascended the stairs, the baby still in his arms. He went all the way up to the attic, pulling a key out of his pocket to open the door.
No, don’t go in there, I thought in panic. That room is no place for a baby.
Just when he pushed the door open, I came back to the present. I blinked and found myself surrounded by all of Noah’s guests.
“Did she pass out?” Lydia asked.
“She looks pale as a ghost,” Matt commented.
Then Noah came into view. “Estella, are you all right? What happened?” He looked genuinely concerned. I sat up, still feeling dizzy, and clutched my aching forehead.
“I have a terrible headache,” I said, my voice scratchy.
“I think you might’ve fainted,” Noah said, his tone soothing.
I glanced across the room, but Sylvia sat in her wheelchair like normal. Had I just hallucinated a younger her holding a baby she was at her wit’s end trying to soothe? What the hell was going on with my head?
Somewhere close-by, I heard Theresa scoff. “It was only a little séance. I can’t believe that would cause her to faint. We’d barely even gotten started.”
Noah’s expression hardened, his voice came out startlingly harsh. “You should leave!” he boomed, eyes on Theresa. An awkward silence fell. Then he seemed to catch himself and moderated his tone. “Sorry, I just mean Estella is ill. I want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. If you all don’t mind heading home now.”
“Not at all,” said Enda. “You see to the girl.”
“Yes,” Lydia agreed. “It’s late anyway.”
A few minutes later they were gone. Noah picked me up and placed me on the sofa. “How do you feel?” he asked gently.