Page 130 of Switch!

I’m fine with getting to the point. “I want to find the spirit of his dead daughter and put her soul inside this body so they can be reunited.”

Trixie places a hand on my shoulder and grins proudly. “Give the boy some credit. Is that a plan or what? He’s a genius!”

“Thanks,” I say before addressing Gismonda. “Can you do that? I know you were able to push me out of this body and put me back in again.”

“An intriguing proposition,” Gismonda says, rubbing her chin. Then she shakes her head. “But where is the girl? Do you believe she’s simply floating around somewhere, waiting to be plucked from the ether?”

I look pointedly at the empty chair that her dead husband occupies.

“Albert is different,” Gismonda says. “He took vows. Death cannot do us part, so he’s stuck here with me. Children have better places to go. Even the gods are not that cruel. I cannot bring her back from where she has gone.”

“Do you mean Heaven?” Trixie asks.

“The world after this one. Beyond the void, as your friend refers to it. That is a job of the gods, to shepherd us elsewhere.”

“Oh.” Trixie sounds disappointed enough for the both of us. Then she perks up. “Hey! Do some people have two souls? Or do we all, because I was reading about—”

A knocking interrupts us. It’s loud, like someone slamming a cane against the front door. Or judging from the wild wind that is now blowing outside, it might be the branches of a tree.

“What is that?” Trixie asks.

“A warning,” Gismonda hisses, holding up a finger.

We fall silent and listen as the house begins to creak ominously. The knocking picks up again as another gust of wind hits the house. As a group, we turn to look out the window just in time to see Monsieur Chastain get blown off his ladder.

“On your feet,” Gismonda says as she stands. “Now!”

As soon as we comply, she starts shooing at us.

“Time for you to go. We shine too bright when so close together. Out, out, out!”

She’s literally pushing us toward the front door. I don’t know what her deal is, but I’m not ready to leave.

“Wait! Is there anything I can do for Patrick? I want to help him.”

“How should I know?” Gismonda says testily, squeezing past me in the entryway to yank open the front door.

“Can’t you ask the spirits like you did for me?”

“You are a troublesome boy,” Gismonda growls. “I’m just an innocent old woman. What are you doing in my house?” She grabs an umbrella from a stand and begins waving it around like a weapon. Trixie leaps out the front door to avoid being hit. “You need to go home!”

“Please,” I say, holding up my hands. “I don’t know what to do for him. I need an answer!”

“I already told you,” Gismonda says. “You need to go home. Both of you. Understand? One after the other.”

Trixie starts shaking her head. “I don’t want to—”

“Not you,” Gismonda snaps, glaring up at the sky. Inky clouds are rolling toward us. “Go now, you silly girl! Drive him to King Street Station and leave him there. Pick him up again in Tacoma, but only after the weather has cleared. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, but—”

The umbrella springs open and is used to force me outside. Gismonda slams the door in our faces. The wind has gotten worse. Trixie’s pigtails are whipping around her face.

“I think we should do what she says,” she shouts over the gale. “The weather app still says it’s clear skies all day!”

In other words, whatever is going on isn’t natural. Trixie and I rush to the car. I let her drive. She’s faster behind the wheel. And it allows me to keep an eye on a darkening sky that looks anything but friendly.

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