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My fingers slipped, breaking the circle as I was slammed into a wall. I rose unsteadily. The room thrummed, a deep, pulsing vibration rattling my bones. I tried to reach Irene, shaking her shoulders, screaming without sound.

“Your soul is suspended,” the voices said together. “Neither here nor there.”

I didn’t know what was happening to me. It all quickly escalated.

Why had I gone that night?

“Something undeserved. They’ve opened your soul to the dark. The labyrinth that stretches beyond death. Something we cannot explain.” The voices commingled together sounded eerily like my parents.

I looked at the figures closely. They gestured to me—my mother’s hand misshapen, gold rings still adorning fingers sliced to the bone, my father’s face twisted in perpetual agony. I looked away. This wasn’t real. They weren’t dead. They were back home, living life without me.

“You should never have contacted the dead,” my mother warned. “These women will never be your friends.”

I scoffed weakly. “None of this is real.”

“Your phone is going to ring; you will receive the call of our deaths. Your father has money hidden down in the basement. People will disparage our name, just know that I knew and we moved away from it. The past need not haunt us.”

The flames snuffed before I could register what this apparition of my mother was saying.

Darkness enveloped the room.

“When there’s nothing left, seek the writings of your soul.” Multiple voices surrounded me, pounding in my head. Pain speared through my chest. The sensation of floating washed over me. I glanced down to see my body rising slowly toward the ceiling.

“What—”

My body was then thrown again, through walls, through music, through the room where many guests mingled. Bodies spun and laughed, faces stretched into fixed smiles and orgasmic twitches as they drank and kissed; oblivious to the woman being tugged through the fabric of reality. I didn’t give up, I screamed and clawed for shoulders or hair, but it was useless. I passed through like mist.

“Kane,” I whispered and I saw him, blue eyes trained on the invisible spot that I was and I slammed into his soul.

Kane as written by me

I could only hope this was the truth.

Kane felt a force collide into his chest before he heard the scream. He turned sharply toward the corridor that led to the parlor. He was still reeling over laying eyes on the one woman he never thought he’d speak to again.

After all those years, he was so sure he’d lost the one thing that looked at him like he mattered. The one person who truly did understand him. Did he care though? Or was he wondering if she still fawned over him? That seemed more like it. Right? That’s who he had to be. The part to be played.

The house seemed to hold him back as he moved, doors suddenly crowded with people, the hallways narrowed and hands tugged at his arms. When he finally reached the parlor, the din of the party ceased entirely. Kane pushed through. He turned to the light, flicked it on and illuminated the scene before him.

Irene stood near the table, hands raised, lips moving too quickly for him to understand what she was saying.

Cassandra hovered near Sara, shaking her with a fear he’d never think the woman possible of.

Daisy—

Daisy was smiling.

“What did you do?” Kane directed toward the women. But really it was for Daisy.

No one answered.

He took another step forward. “What happened to her?”

Daisy’s smile faltered only slightly, like she was disappointed rather than concerned.

I woke to the shadows feeling a sense of deja vu. The room smelled faintly of smoke and old musty perfume, the ceiling unfamiliar above. My body ached in several places. For a moment I lay still listening to my breathing. The door to the room opened quietly. Kane stepped inside and closed it behind him. His movements were careful.

I rose quickly, sitting up against the stack of pillows behind me. Relief washed across his face and his shoulders which had been tense, slouched slightly.