“Sophie told me it’s a chance to complete things that have been left undone,” Mrs. Riley nodded.
“She said that if a person died young, she might be reincarnated. Sometimes two people can be reincarnated together if they are separated too soon in a previous life.”
Mrs. Riley studied my face. “And you think that has happened to you?”
“I think I’m Avril.”
The old woman sat back in her chair. After a moment she said, “Do not be misled by appearances. You look like your great aunt, but that is not significant.”
“It’s not what I look like. It’s what I dream about. It’s what I seem to remember.”
The shrill whistle of a teakettle sounded in another room.
Mrs. Riley ignored it.
“What do you remember?” she whispered.
“Scarborough House. The dollhouse that looks like it. I dreamed about them before I saw them.”
“And?” she asked, her eyes as bright and sharp as the whistling sound.
“The mill, its basement, the big wheels in it.”
“And?” she pressed.
I bit my lip. “That’s it.” The dream about Thomas, Helen, and Avril was too uncomfortable, too personal to tell.
She looked at me doubtfully. “You must be honest with me if I am to help you.”
I stared down at the table and said nothing.
She stood up. “Very well. Think about it while I get my tea.”
As soon as she disappeared, I covered my face with my hands. What did I hope to prove-that Grandmother was guilty? Why reveal that now? It would only cause a lot of pain. Still, the doubt and suspicion that grew out of that dark secret were quietly poisoning the minds of Grandmother, Matt, and me.
Mrs. Riley reentered the room and set two cups on the table. “It’s cinnamon apple.”
“Thank you,” I said, then sipped the fragrant tea.
“Do you know anything about karma?” she asked.
“I’ve heard of it.”
“It is the belief that we are rewarded or punished in one life according to our deeds in a previous life.” She held her cup in both hands and gazed at her tea as if reading it, then took a long drink. “Karma is just,” she said. “According to it, the victim of an unnatural death will return in a later life and seek out the killer.”
“Seek out the killer?” I repeated.
“It’s justice, dear. If you take away someone’s life, then in the next cycle, your life will be taken by that person. The victim will kill the murderer.”
I stared at her. Did she know what I suspected?
“You’re remembering, aren’t you,” she said quietly.
I sipped my tea, avoiding her eyes.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice soothing. “Avril, tell me what you are remembering.”
“I had a dream,” I said at last. “Helen was very angry at me. She threatened me, said I would pay. But that doesn’t mean anything,” I added quickly. “Brothers and sisters say that all the time without meaning it.”
“True enough,” the psychic replied. “Do you remember anything else-anything from the day you died?”
“No.”
“And yet you are remembering more and more,” she said.
“I don’t know how to advise you.” She rose from the table and walked restlessly around the room. “I have my suspicions. To speak them may influence a clear memory.
Not to may endanger you. You know that Helen came to see me yesterday.”
I ran my finger around the moist rim of my cup. “Yes.”
“I warned you, child, not to tell her you were here.”
“But I didn’t. Someone in the cafe must have told her.”
“Can you trust your cousin?” Mrs. Riley asked. “YouVe hesitating. That tells me you can’t.”
“He’s very protective of Grandmother.”
Her hands worked nervously. “Then it would be foolish and dangerous to trust him.”
“Why?”
“He’s loyal to her, dependent on her money, and you fear the same thing I do-that you were murdered by Helen.”
For a moment the raw statement of my suspicion shocked me. I struggled to think clearly.
“But if I was the victim in my past life,” I reasoned, “I’m the one who is the threat now. According to karma, Avril would destroy her murderer-that’s what you said. And I would never hurt my grandmother.”
“The act does not have to be intentional.”
“But what if I make sure I don’t hurt her?” I argued. “What if I leave and never come back?”
Was that why Matt wanted me to go? Did he know more about this than he pretended?
“Karma is karma,” Mrs. Riley responded. “There is only one thing that can prevent the victim from achieving justice.”
“What?”
“Her own death.”
I looked at her, startled. “You mean, dying a second time?
You mean my death?”
“Now you understand why you must remember what happened that day. Just because you would not hurt others, doesn’t mean others won’t hurt you, not when it comes to saving themselves. You must find out your enemy.”
My mouth went dry. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. “I can’t will myself to remember. I’m not psychic like you or Sophie. I have no control-the dreams come when they want to.”
Mrs. Riley came back to the table. “Today is the anniversary of Avril’s death,” she said, her voice calm, steadying me. “There is a window of time when the past will be open to you. Can you get to the mill?”
“Yes.”
“Go straightaway. Walk around it, breathe it, touch it.
Listen to its sounds, let it become part of your life again. Go inside and make yourself quiet there, let the past come back to you. Your life depends on it.”
I sat still as a stone.
Her brow creased, then she rested her veined hand gently on mine. “Finish your tea, child, then hurry. You haven’t much time if you want to be home before dark.”
I didn’t run fast, but when I reached the mill, I was out of breath and had a stitch in my side. I walked slowly around the building, waiting for the pain to ease, mulling over what I had learned from Mrs. Riley. If Grandmother had murdered Avril, then I, the reincarnated Avril, was destined to take Grandmother’s life. Did she know that? When she had gone to see Mrs. Riley, what had they talked about?
Grandmother would never harm me, I told myself. But then I thought, if she murdered her own sister, how hard would it be to do away with a grandchild, an adopted grandchild?
With sixty long years in between, another accident would not seem suspicious. And she could count on Matt to protect her.
Matt’s attitude toward me had changed in the short time between our first meeting and that moment on the dock.
Had he exploited my attraction to him to keep tabs on me?
“Tell me,” he’d said later, holding my face gently in his hands, seeming as if he wanted to help. Perhaps all he wanted was information and to keep me from looking further. I was more determined than ever to find out what had happened in this place.
