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My name’s Agnes. My family institutionalized me here when I was eighteen.

I died when I was twenty, she said . I developed tuberculosis and the doctor promised them he could cure me, but they needed to leave me here.

I died a painful year and a half later. She gave me a long, sad look and I could feel her pain and the sense of loss.

A thought occurred to me. Did the owner remain here after he died? Surely, he couldn’t still be alive, not unless he’d been a shifter or a witch.

Agnes glanced around nervously. He left after he died, but not long ago, he returned. She summoned him back.

Who did? I was beginning to get seriously worried.

The Gatekeeper. The men made her do it. And once Dr. Myopa returned, he began to corral us again. I want to leave. I’m tired of being here. I want to rest.

So Penelope was here.

Do you know where she is?

The spirit shook her head. She looked tired and sounded tired. More than that, her entire demeanor shifted as she spoke.

No, I wish I did. Maybe, just maybe, she could do her job and help me escape.

“Are you all right?” Abernethy startled me out of my thoughts. I looked over to see him staring at me, his eyes narrowed.

I didn’t want to tell him I was conversing with ghosts in the house, since we had no idea whether he was part of whatever was going on.

“Sorry, just thinking about the past and what happened here. Do you ever feel like the past seeps through to the present?” I wanted some idea of whether he was just doing his job, or whether he was part of the kidnapping.

Abernethy paused, then sat on the bed in the room we were in. He looked at me, then at Kerris and Rowan.

“Every day I think about the past. Every day I walk through this house and think about the victims who lived here. My great-grandmother died here. When I had the chance to take this job, I jumped on it. It’s a way for me to reconnect to a past that very few in my family care about.”

In that simple speech, I knew—in my heart—that he wasn’t part of whatever Agnes had said was happening.

His voice was clear and free of subterfuge.

Over the past months, my ability to read people had grown, especially with the increase in magic I’d had to do in order to stop the energy reflux syndrome.

“What was your great-grandmother’s name?” I asked.

“Carolina. She was forty-five when she was infected with cholera. My grandmother was ten years old when Carolina was confined here, and three months later, Carolina died. They couldn’t even bring out her body for burial,” he said, sadness permeating every word.

“That must have been rough,” Rowan said.

“It was, from all the reports. She was buried in the cemetery here, in an unmarked grave. In town, my great-grandpa and the children buried the empty casket in the regular cemetery with a headstone. My great-grandma’s body is out there in the cemetery here, somewhere, with a blank marker like the others.

I have no idea which grave is hers.” Abernethy lowered his head.

“I usually don’t tell people that story.

I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to bring down your tour. ”

“Don’t apologize,” Kerris said.

“We’d like to see the cemetery if you don’t mind,” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but it’s off-limits,” Abernethy said, glancing out the window. “I’d like to show you but…” He paused, looking uncertain, and I scrambled to think of a way to get out there, without telling him who we actually were.

“I’m somewhat psychic,” I said. “Just a family trait, I guess. I read tarot cards and sometimes I can sense spirits. We could look around the cemetery and maybe find out which grave is your great-grandmother’s.”

That brought the response I hoped for.

He looked up, hope in his eyes. “You think you might be able to find out?”

I nodded. “Possibly. I can’t promise, of course, but we might be able to. Why do they exclude the graveyard from the tour?”

Abernethy shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. It didn’t used to be. Then when the Broadman Group bought it last year, they suddenly changed the rules. I asked why, but they just said to mind my business and do my job.”

Rowan sighed. “I hate it when people won’t explain themselves, especially when the question’s a fair one.”

I caught her gaze and gave her a half-nod. Rowan knew how to appeal to people.

“Me too,” Abernethy said. “I’m the one who has to think of a reason to explain to tourists why their entrance fee doesn’t give them a walk through the cemetery.

” He frowned, then said, “As long as you don’t tell anybody, I’ll be glad to let you look through the cemetery.

And if you can figure out which grave is my great-grandma’s, I’d be so grateful. ”

Right then, that confirmed he wasn’t part of the kidnapping. The Covenant of Chaos and Cú Chulainn’s Hounds weren’t about to let us out there if they were keeping Penelope around.

I gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “Of course. We won’t say anything , and I’ll do my best to figure out where your great-grandma is buried.”

As he led us through the kitchen, toward the back door, I caught sight of Agnes again. I closed my eyes and reached out. We’ll do our best to help, Agnes.

And Agnes let out a soft sigh and smiled.