Goosebumps rose along my skin. “What does she look like?”
He shrugged. “She has hair like Addie’s. And a fancy dress.”
“Fancy how?”
He made wave motions with his arms. “It’s flowy.”
“Have you seen her anywhere else?” I asked, dread making my throat tight.
But he shook his head. “Just here. She said this was her house.”
So, had Eliza been behind the mirror and the bathtub incidents? Was she trying to tell me her story, or was she trying to get rid of me? She had given birth toone child but had drowned when pregnant with a second. Did she resent that my child and I still lived?
“Does she scare you?” I asked, taking his little hand in mine, my guts twisting with guilt. I hated that he’d inherited my cursed ability. “Does she ever try to hurt you?”
He shook his head. “No, Mama. Not Eliza.”
I frowned. “I know the angry lady in the basement scares you. Does anyone else?”
He hesitated but then nodded.
“Who, baby?” I asked. “Who scares you?”
He leaned in and cupped his hand around his mouth as if sharing a secret, then whispered, “The lady in the wall.”
Chapter fourteen
Several days later, my conversation with Henry was still troubling me—mostly because I didn’t know who he was talking about. Who was this woman in the wall? Why could he see her and I couldn’t?
“Zellie, darlin’,” June asked, “are you feeling alright? You haven’t eaten a bite of my tomato pie.”
“No one makes one better,” Earl said with a wink. “Secret’s in the bacon.”
I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Ms. June,” I replied. “I’ve not been myself lately.”
“Well, then, you’ll definitely want to try some of these fried oysters, Zellie,” Merilee said with a sly grin. “They’re the cure for what ails you.”
“Oh, now,” Pearlie scolded, “you leave the poor girl alone, Merilee. She’s had a rough time of it.”
I flushed at Merilee’s insinuation about the oysters’ reputation as an aphrodisiac and risked a glance at Whit, praying he hadn’t heard her. But he was rapidly typing on his phone, his brows drawn together in a deep frown. Whatever the subject, it must’ve been urgent if he was willing to risk incurring Pearlie’s wrath for using his phone at the table. Earlier, I’d caught a glimpse of a message from someone identified only as CP, and it had led to the same dark, shuttered expression he wore now.
Fresh from his business trip up north, he seemed worn down—fatigue in the slump of his shoulders, tension in his jaw. And the way he stayed locked on that phone told me whatever he’d been dealing with hadn’t gone well. Even whenhe finally set the phone face-down beside his plate, agitation clung to him like a shadow.
But then he looked up and caught me watching him. His eyes held mine, and something in his expression cleared, softened, as if a weight had slipped from his shoulders. Relief flickered across his face, subtle but unmistakable, like he hadn’ttrulycome home until that moment.
I broke our shared gaze first, but I’m sure he saw the small, secret smile tugging at my lips.
“Youarelooking peak-ed, baby,” Pearlie pressed, her words cutting across our moment. “Are you sleeping? Should Henry comes stay with June or me for the night, let you get a good night’s sleep?”
“Thank you, Ms. Pearlie,” I said sincerely. “But I don’t think that will help. There have been some…disturbances in my apartment.”
Whit shifted slightly in his chair. “Junior, could you please pass the cornbread down this way?”
“What kind of disturbances?” Junior asked, absently passing the plate of skillet cornbread to Whit.
I hesitated, mulling over whether to say anything. I’d gone over it many times in my head since the events in the bathroom, realizing I needed help to deal with what was going on, even if it was just permission to do a cleansing or bring in a priest for a blessing. As much as I would’ve liked to help the women who were tormenting Henry and me, I couldn’t deal with this on my own any longer.
I took a deep breath and blurted, “I think my apartment’s haunted.”
