“Well, c’mon, Delia!” Claire’s teasing voice floated back to me. She was already halfway across the broad lawn. “Geez, you’d think you never saw a horse before!”
I took a step toward her, disengaging Max’s hand—and Steve was right there. “I actually haven’t seen a horse in person before,” he said, his voice a little rough as he stared after Claire. “Isn’t that crazy?”
I couldn’t link my hand in his—that would be too weird. This was Steve. But I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “Let’s go be crazy together, then.”
The smile he sent me made my stomach burn in sudden, freezing panic. I welcomed that pain though, savored it. It made me feel human.
I needed to remember what that was like, hold on tight to it.
I needed to remember who I still was without him.
The thought sent a spike of something through me—not quite fear, not quite grief. Palemerious wasn’t dead. Exorcists didn’t kill. So he was just...gone. Ripped out. I’d thrown him out into the bright and endless day, and now I was alone in my own head for the first time in?—
How long?When had he first slid into me, defiling me with his manipulation? How many years had he been my closest companion?
I shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was gone. I’d won.
So why did it feel like losing?
Aunt Emily didn’t come backthat night.
At one point, Max called to make sure Mrs. Bell had left the lake cottage safely behind, but she was staying with her sister. She didn’t like being alone when John wasn’t in the house. There was no message from Emily, no indication of when she’d be back. Mrs. Graham rolled her eyes, her face a little too tight, her smile a little too desperate. Mr. Graham was in a good mood with her sister gone, however, and she wanted—desperately—to keep him that way. I didn’t blame her. I’d seen the way her husband had looked at her, the gun between them on the bed. I’d want to keep him happy, too.
In the end, Max just shrugged. “She knows the way here. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”
Steve took a couch in the living room while Claire and I shared the guest bedroom with self-conscious awkwardness. Though Steve hadn’t seemed to care, neither of us had any intention of sleeping in one of the more open rooms, or even on the porch. A room with a door was the only viable option.
“So, it’s Sam, right? Sam’s the problem child here?” she asked.
I looked over at her. I felt worse than ever about her being here, but it wasn’t my fault, really. I’d wanted her to know where I was, that was all. I hadn’t invited her to come out here—or Steve, for that matter.
Of course, I hadn’t texted either of them to keep them at bay. So…maybe I had wanted someone here.
Either way, she needed to know the truth.
“Sam is part of it, yeah. But he’s not all of it.”
She went completely still, her gaze glued to my face. “The dad?” she whispered. “The dad seems wound tight. The house? Is the house bad too?”
“I don’t know,” I shook my head. “I’m not some kind of demon whisperer or anything. I wasn’t brought in during the discernment part. I just helped with the identification once Rabbi Mordechai had figured out there was a problem.”
Her eyes went wider. “But you could tell, right? You were in that lake cottage, and you said you just knew.”
My lips twisted in something close to a smile. “Well, a guy shot himself after living as a shut-in for seven years in that place. I had a few clues.”
“Jesus.” She held her hand to her neck, her fingers grasping the gold cross she wore around her neck. That made me feel unreasonably better. Not for my sake, but for hers. “So, right? It’s the dad as well?”
I sighed. “It’s—probably the dad. I wouldn’t trust the dad, anyway. But the mom doesn’t seem to have it altogether, either. And the grandma—I don’t know what to think about her.”
“Grandma Kate? No way.” Claire’s voice was firm, absolute, and I blinked at her. “That lady held onto Sam like she was worried he’d be ripped from her arms at any minute.”
“Yeah, well. Sam is clearly messed up.”
“You’re not going to make me believe that the grandmother is. She had abible.”
I sighed. “She did. I’ve never been up to her room, though.”
“Well, duh: grandma. You don’t want any part of that.”
