table … and looked to the others expectantly until they took their seats.
So she’s a medium, now? Laurel thought. That was exactly the role Katrina seemed to be assuming as she placed her hands flat on the table, closed her eyes and took a breath, and sat still for an extended moment. The weight of the great room settled around them, the heaviness of place out of time. Rain fell steadily, a soporific rumble. Then Katrina opened her eyes and looked off into the gray distance.
“We want to talk to … whatever is in this house,” she said in a firm, clear voice. “We know you’re there.”
There was a long, deliberate stillness, which not even Tyler tried to spoil.
Katrina suddenly leaned forward and rapped her knuckles sharply on the center of the wood table, as if she were knocking on a door.
“Are you there?” she demanded.
Again, stillness. But Laurel felt something else in the air now. That quality of listening, of waiting …
Katrina’s eyes shone in the dim room. “I know you’re there,” she breathed. “I can feel you.” She leaned forward and knocked again, and Laurel saw Tyler flinch in his chair. Brendan was staring at Katrina, mesmerized.
“Talk to us,” Katrina commanded. “Answer us.” She knocked again, so hard that Laurel cringed. She’s going to tear her knuckles apart …
Katrina seemed oblivious. “Are you here?” she demanded. “Answer me!” Her china-blue eyes shone with the intensity of madness.
And from the ceiling, or deeper than the ceiling, from the center of the house, came an immense, hollow THUMP. The sound reverberated through the house, through the room, through Laurel’s body.
All four of them jumped in their chairs. “Whoa,” Tyler muttered, through a dry mouth. Katrina’s eyes blazed with triumph. Brendan looked stupefied.
“Thank you,” Katrina breathed. “Welcome.”
Through her fear, Laurel felt a rush of absurdity. Welcome? We’re the outsiders here.
“How do we do this?” Tyler muttered feverishly. “One knock for yes, two for no?”
Brendan leaned toward Katrina from his chair at the head of the table. “Were you here when the original experiment was done here?” he prompted her.
“Were you here when the original experiment was done here?” Katrina repeated aloud.
There was another reverberating KNOCK. Laurel could feel it through the floorboards, hear it echoing in the walls.
“Whoa,” Tyler mumbled again, and he looked a bit sick.
“One knock is ‘yes’?” Katrina clarified.
Another hollow KNOCK. Laurel felt her pulse racing, her heart pounding in her throat, the same dizzying thrill as being on a roller coaster.
“Are you a ghost?” Katrina demanded, her eyes alight. “It’s not—,” Brendan started, but another single KNOCK boomed through the house, silencing him.
“Yes,” Katrina said.
Brendan’s face darkened with confusion.
“Are you Paul Folger?” Laurel said suddenly, looking at Katrina. Katrina stared back at her without expression, and for a moment Laurel thought the girl would simply refuse her. Then Katrina turned her eyes to the ceiling again and asked in her clear, firm voice:
“Are you Paul Folger?”
Another booming KNOCK.
“Yes,” Katrina breathed, her face glowing. At their sides of the table, Tyler and Brendan were electrified, practically vibrating with excitement.
Laurel said sharply, “Wait.” Her thoughts were racing, questions forming. Now she spoke aloud, projecting as Katrina had. “Are you Caroline Folger?” she demanded of the air.
A single, reverberating KNOCK. “Yes,” Laurel said, and looked around the table. Katrina’s face was stormy, Brendan’s confused. Laurel felt an electric thrill. I know what you’re up to. She leaned forward on the table.
“Are you Alaistair Leish?” Laurel asked loudly.
Another KNOCK shook the house.
“You’re all of those people,” Laurel said, her eyebrows raised skeptically.
Now two thundering KNOCKs.
“That’s ‘No’,” Tyler said.
“Are you Paul Folger?” Laurel asked again.
Two KNOCKs. “ ‘No,’ ” Tyler repeated. He looked toward Laurel with admiration.
“Are you Alaistair Leish?” Laurel demanded.
Two KNOCKs again. “Are you Caroline Folger?”
Two KNOCKs.
Laurel sat back, and they all looked around at each other, stymied at the contradiction.
“Are you dead?” Laurel tried.
Two KNOCKs … then another.
So all it’s doing is playing, Laurel thought. Or maybe it doesn’t understand English. But she didn’t say it aloud.
Tyler suddenly said loudly, “Show us something. Show us what you can do.”
They waited in breathless silence. Nothing.
Katrina shot an oblique look at Tyler and leaned forward, her cornflower eyes wide and appealing. She said to the center of the table, in an enticing voice, “Please show us.”
The girl’s words hung in the silence, and the four of them sat poised at the table, upside-down paintings and shattered mirrors around them. And then Laurel felt something change.