“Are you here to help?” I ask.
The planchette zooms over to yes. Silas’ concerned brown eyes meet mine. I can tell he’s uncomfortable and I’m trying to figure out what to ask.
“What do we need to do?” Silas asks and I roll my eyes.
“You have to ask the spirit simple?—”
Before I can finish chastising him, the planchette zooms over the letters again. T-R-U-T-H.
My heart is beating in my chest, and the air around me feels heavy. I was already tired from the long night, but exhaustion is ripping through me like a torrent.
The flames are rising around us, and Silas lets go of the planchette and grabs my wrist.
“That’s enough,” he says and I shake my head.
I let myself feel the spirit around me. They’re sad, lonely in a way. But I just know they’re trying to tell me something, something I can’t understand.
“Can you show me?” I ask, my hand the only one on the planchette as it shoots over to the word yes.
A quick wind picks up inside of my home and Silas grips the worn wooden table as I hold steady.
“End it, Violet,” Silas growls, but I shake my head.
The scent of sulfur is rising in the air as the wind picks up, blowing my hair, and causing an open tarot deck to fly into thebreeze. The table begins to shake and a blanket of sadness covers me.
I let go of the planchette and grip the table as the unnatural breeze whips around my kitchen, blowing out all the candles before there is a loud bang and everything immediately stops.
The candles flick back to life and everything stills, like nothing just happened.
With shaky hands, I grab the planchette and flip it over to the goodbye side.
“Goodbye, thank you,” I mumble as I look up to a shocked Silas.
“Your nose is bleeding,” he tells me, and I bring my wrist up and wipe away the slightest amount of blood. “What was that noise?”
“Let’s go check,” I say in a whisper.
“Are you good to get up?” he questions and I wave him off as we walk down the hall.
A door is wide open, and I gasp.
“They want us to go into that room?” Silas asks, not understanding my shock.
I glance up at him. “I haven’t been able to open that door physically or magically since I moved in.”
We both stand at the door frame.
It’s a nursery, covered in purple, that looks like it’s been preserved in time for the past thirty years.
Chapter 15
“Fuck this spooky ass shit. It’s too late for this,” I say, going to back up and Violet fists my shirt.
“It was your ancestor who brought us here. Stop being a chicken.”
“Seriously? You’re going to call me a chicken to get what you want?”
“Yes, I undoubtedly am.”
