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“Caroline, no more riddles. Say your piece or we’re leaving. ”

Leave then. I don’t care.

“You should. We might have news. Better yet, tell us the truth, and we might believe you. ”

Nick kept his mouth shut but watched where my eyes went, and watched me close. I appreciated his patience. I knew it looked like I was talking to myself, but I also knew that he trusted me and would wait.

I saw what they did, she said. When she said it, her hair—which had been shining and swimming around her head—began to settle, lying down against her scalp and to sit on her shoulders.

“What did they do?”

Killed them. All twenty-nine of them. In the church.

“You’re right,” I whispered to Nick. “She’s said something about the church. ”

Burned the church down to hide what they did. Blamed it on the flu. She stopped. For a second, I thought she was going to fade away altogether.

“Don’t—no, don’t. Caroline, come back. Caroline?”

They killed them all, but it was too cold to bury them. Not enough wood to burn them. Weighted them down and threw them in.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked, since the moment was slipping.

“Not sure. She came on strong, and now her mind’s wandering. Caroline, who killed them? Can you tell me who killed them?”

She sharpened around the edges and her hair began to crackle again, signaling something the way a cat’s tail does. Wrong question, she said.

“All right. Not the killers, but the killed. Who were they? What happened?”

It was a good church, and they were good people. It was insistent, the way she said it—an apology for something else, too. Or maybe I was reading too far into it.

Outside we heard a hint of commotion, like an argument was brewing. Nick and I turned our attention to the door, but then let it drop when nothing followed the initial outburst. When I turned back to the mirror, she was gone.

“Caroline?”

My fault. They’re coming for me. She’s coming for me.

I didn’t see her, but I heard the words as clear, soft, and sharp as if she’d breathed them into my ear. The room felt lighter, and changed. It felt empty, even though Nick and I sat together at the edge of the bed.

“She’s gone. ”

“I felt it,” he said. “It was quick, like the air letting out of an untied balloon. Did she give you anything helpful?”

“Here’s a better question—where’d she go? She doesn’t ever leave the hotel, does she?”

“No, but she’s been seen out in the halls, and on the mezzanine. Maybe she went for a walk. ”

“Sure. Why not?” I rose then, and the bed squeaked underneath me when I left it. “We could go looking for her, but I don’t think it’d do any good. She’s finished talking for now. And she might have told me enough. It’s hard to extrapolate from crazy dead people, though. Especially—especially right now. God, I’m tired. ”

“Me too. But what do you want to do? Sleep? We might miss something. ”

I smiled at the thought of it, knowing he was right. We were acting like little kids who won’t take a nap for fear of being left out—and for the horror of it all, and the fascination. I couldn’t sleep yet, not anymore. I’d nabbed a couple of hours at the Choo-Choo and that much would have to suffice. I didn’t know when Nick had last slept, but we were in it together now, regardless.

“Do you think the Starbucks downstairs has any coffee left?”

“They did an hour or two ago. How do you think I’m still able to hold myself upright? But the odds are good they’re running out now, if they haven’t already. I told you, there’s a retreat beginning. People are getting the hell out of the river area and working their way back here. ”

“Well, I’d hope so, if what you’ve told me is even close to right. Let’s see if we can scare up a cup of caffeine from them, and then sit down or something. I need to think, but I’m out of energy for thinking. I think I used it all up getting here. ”