But despite these precautions, in the fall of 1929, Benson Harding’s wife, Eliza, drowned in the springs. Two weeks later, the hotel burned to the ground. Fifteen of the twenty-four guests were killed. All that remained of the property was a gaping cellar hole flooded from the pipes that had been installed to route the springs into the hotel. Benson Harding returned to Saratoga a ruined, haunted man. He shot himself later that year.
Are the springs cursed? Look at the history and judge for yourself.
*Please note: The springs are now privately owned. They are not open to the public!
My head spun. I reread the article. The little girl who fell in and drowned—seven years old. I said her name out loud, “Martha.”
Martha W.
Rita’s imaginary friend.
The little girl who lived in the pool and came out sometimes. The little girl no one but Rita could see.
But I’d seen her once, too. Hadn’t I?
I shoved my phone back into my bag, looked down at my father’s drawing of Lexie on my bed. She grinned up at me.
“You knew,” I said. “You figured it out.”
I went back to the boxes, tore through the papers until I found the one I was looking for. The list Lexie had made:
Nelson Dewitt
Martha W.
Eliza Harding
Rita Harkness
They were all people who had drowned in the springs.
I put my finger on the next line, the one under Rita’s, thinking I should write Lexie’s name in there.
Listen to me,I heard my sister say, clear as could be. I held my breath, listening. I was losing my mind. Lexie’s death, being here, back at Sparrow Crest—it was unraveling me.
I made out my father’s voice through the propped-open window. “Please,” he was saying. I stood up, pulled open the screen, leaned out the window, craning my neck, trying to see the pool. My mother, when she was a child in this very room, wondered who her sister Rita was talking to—if Martha was just imaginary or an actual flesh-and-blood person.
Rita’s drawing in the lid of the board game, of the little girl in the blue dress:Martha W. 7 years old.
My father said something else I couldn’t catch, and then I heard a woman say, “Shh. Mum’s the word.”
I’d know that voice anywhere.
It was Lexie.
I jerked up and back, slamming my head against the window sash, hitting it hard enough to see stars. “Shit!” I ran out into the hall and straight into Diane, who was wearing Lexie’s old Nirvana T-shirt and a pair of her running shorts.
I jumped when I saw her.
Ghosts were everywhere.
“I thought I heard something,” Diane said. “Your father’s gone. He’s not in his room or the bathroom.”
“He’s down at the pool!” I said, rushing past her.
And Lexie is with him! She’s come back!
Diane was right behind me as I took the stairs two at a time, got down to the front hall to find the door open. My feet hit the stone floor and I slid, caught myself on the wall before falling. There were puddles of water everywhere.
