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“I want to know more about the ghosts,” I said.
Dr. Weber’s smile grew strained. “They’re not really ghosts, of course. Going forward, I think it would be best to refer to them as imaginings.”
“Maggie thinks they’re real,” I said.
“Which is something we’ll have to work on,” Dr. Weber said.
“Did she tell you about them?”
“She did, yes. She has three consistentimaginings.” She put extra emphasis on the word for my benefit. “One is a little girl she occasionally talks to. Another is a young woman she calls Miss Pennyface.”
“Don’t forget Mister Shadow,” I said, because Maggie sure couldn’t.
“He’s the one she fears the most,” Dr. Weber said.
“If these are all just—” I stopped myself before sayingimaginaryfriends, choosing instead Dr. Weber’s preferred term. “If these areimaginings, why is Maggie so afraid of them?”
“Children have dark thoughts, too,” Dr. Weber said. “Just like adults. They’re also good listeners. They pick up a lot more than we think they do. When problems like this occur, it’s because the child is having a hard time processing what they’ve heard. Something bad happened in your home. Something tragic. Maggie knows that, but she doesn’t know how to grapple with it.”
“So what should we do?” I said.
“My advice? Be honest with her. Explain—in terms that she can understand—what happened, how it was a sad thing, and how that won’t ever happen again.”
•••
That night, we took Dr. Weber’s advice and sat Maggie down at the kitchen table, armed with some of her favorite treats. Hot chocolate. Sugar cookies. A pack of sour gummy worms.
Also on the table, at a slight remove from everything else, was theGazettearticle about Curtis and Katie Carver I’d photocopied at the library.
“Before we moved in,” Jess said, “something happened in this house. Something bad. And very sad.”
“I know,” Maggie said. “Hannah told me.”
I groaned. Of course.
“Did she tell you exactly what happened?” I said.
“A mean man killed his daughter and then killed himself.”
Hearing those words come out of my daughter’s mouth almost broke my heart. I looked across the table to Jess, who gave me a small nod of support. It wasn’t much, but it meant everything to me. It told me that, despite our recent clashes, we were still in this together.
“That’s right,” I said. “It was terrible and made everyone very sad. Bad things happen sometimes. But not all the time. Not often at all, in fact. But we know that what happened might scare you, and we want you to understand that it’s all in the past. Nothing like that is going to happen while we’re here.”
“Promise?” Maggie said.
“I promise,” I replied.
Jess reached across the table for our hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Wepromise.”
“If you have any questions about what happened, don’t be afraid to ask,” I told Maggie. “We can talk about it anytime you want. In fact, I have a newspaper article about it, if you want to see it.”
I waited until Maggie nodded before sliding the article in front of her. Since her reading skills were still limited, her gaze immediately went to the photograph.
“Hey,” she said, pressing a finger to the photocopied face of Katie Carver. “That’s the girl.”
I tensed. “What girl, honey?”
“The one I play with sometimes.”