She has nothing to lose right now. No reason to trick me or lead me on. She’s not lying.
“How did you find me?” she asks, taking a blanket off her bed and pulling it over her shoulders.
“Lyra told me she thought your aunt and uncle were in the area. I came up and asked around.”
“But why did you drive up?” she asks slowly, almost afraid of what she’s going to hear.
“Because of a dream.” I blink, vision going fuzzy again. I’m getting a headache trying to squint and see anything in the dark. I close my eyes. “But first I went and talked with a medium—on an unrelated subject. He told me a woman in an old-fashioned dress was in pain and wanted to get a hold of me, and he saw another woman in similar garments holding a lantern. I thought he was talking about someone else. And then I had the dream, and I knew it was you.”
Gemma doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Someone else? Who else would want to get a hold of you that would fit that description? And why did you talk to a medium? Are you still trying to summon your parents?”
A small smile pulls up the corner of my lips. I did kind of miss all of her questions. “The woman who fits that description…it’s a long story. And I’m not trying to. I did.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. Well, I think I summoned her. It looked like her. Talked like her. Smelled like her. But who knows for sure.”
“Wait. You summoned your mom andtalked to her? Like you had a real conversation.”
“Yeah. She remembered things from the night she died that I couldn’t. We—I—think it was really her.”
“That’s incredible. And you did this on your own?”
I swallow, still struggling with trusting her. It’s not like she can go running to Marissa now. Besides, Marissa knows I’m the witch she was looking for and ran away with her tail tucked between her legs.
“Yes.”
“That’s incredible, Ace.”
“Right?” I tug on the ropes again. “I can’t burn my way out of this, but I’ll get us out. I promise. I’ve lived through enough to know I’m not dying in the root cellar of some house in Amish Country. No offense.”
“None taken. The lifestyle isn’t for me—I wasn’t born into it—but I have nothing against it. And really, everyone else here is kind. Like they should be.”
“Who was Amish, your mom or your dad?” I ask, figuring we have time to talk about our pasts. It’s not like we’re going anywhere.
“My mom. She got to leave when she was a teenager and met my dad. They fell in love but she came back and didn’t see him again for over a year. He never forgot about her and went to every single Amish bakery in the area looking for her. She said he gained twenty pounds from all the cookies and pies he bought while looking for her.”
I can hear the smile in her voice as she talks about her parents.
“She left with him and started a new life. Went to college and everything. And then they died and it was either live with my aunt and uncle or go into foster care. I should have chosen foster care.”
“The past shapes us.”
“You believe that? Really?You?”
“I’ll admit I’m a cynic, but yeah. I do. I’m not saying I wouldn’t go back and change things, but the domino effect can’t be denied. If my parents hadn’t been murdered, I wouldn’t have become a cop. And I…” I trail off, not sure how the rest would have panned out. Would my great aunt still have left me the house?
Having my mom around wouldn’t change who I am. No matter what, I would have ended up in that house and woken the guys.
“Do they come down here?” I ask.
“Three times a day at least. They bring me food now.”
“Now? They didn’t before at all?”
“No,” she coughs. “They thought they could starve the demon into making a deal. I told them I’m not possessed and they said that’s what the demon would want me to say. I even tried to fake being exorcised. It didn’t work.”
“This is all sorts of fucked up.”
