"No!" Hazel yelled."It is just Gloria trying to torture us."
"Why?" Theodorematched her volume. "Why would she do that?"
"Because she was a crazybitch—"
"Why dig up the deadgirl's shoes?" he hissed in a whisper, obviously not meant for Benedict tohear. So they knew about Emmeline, too? Had they all known? Was that why Lucyhad been so quick to press Mother's ghost out of that maid? Was she worriedabout her giving away the secret?
"What did you do?"Benedict heaved the words, turning his gaze to his brother across from him inthe dark hall.
Hazel and Theodore continuedto argue in the foyer.
Elysium swallowed hard;something caught in his throat, maybe? He reached for Benedict. Why? They hadnever been the hugging sort, and no firm handshake was going to fix this. "Nothing. We didn't do anything."
"Liar,"Emmeline hissed bitterly.
"Liar," Benedictrepeated, because it should be heard by more than just himself.All these years, Emmeline had been holding on to that rage. It had beenspilling out here and there, and like a fool, he had assumed it was just a partof being a ghost. He had set aside her feelings as a dramatic consequence oflingering. He had ignored her broken heart, her broken body, and her need tohave that fury heard.
He grabbed the boots off thetable and walked straight down the hall.
Hazel and Theodore choked ontheir argument at the sight of him. Theodore reeled back when he spotted theold shoes from the pitiful little grave. Neither said anything to him, juststared. Benedict took the stairs two at a time, and before he reached the secondfloor, they were back to bickering over their fleeting options, Elysium's deepvoice joining them in a conspiratorial whisper.
Instead of going to his roomto seek solitude or refuge like he had as a teen—the last time he had been inthis house—he swung right at the intersection of halls and went straight forLucy's room. For the first time in his life, he didn't knock.
Her room had the same layoutas his, a little parlor in the front leading through an archway into thebedroom with her own bathroom and closet. She jumped when the door slammedagainst the wall, leaping off the dark satin couch. Everything in her room wasin mauve, wine red, and black, with a theme of skulls and Ouija board trinketsshe had collected since she was a teen. She leaned Goth long before she lefthome to build a following of tarot readers and séance holders. She dropped herteacup when she saw the boots, fresh tears gathering in her already swolleneyes. "No. No."
He thumped them down on hercoffee table. "Who did it?"
"We're past that," Emmelinewhispered, but he wasn't.
Her hands, freshly bandaged,hovered in the air between her chest and her mouth—not sure where to go, hesupposed. "No. I… No."
"Lucy." He said hername firmly, and her gaze snapped from the shoes to him. "Tell me whywe're all going to die in this house tonight."
Some of her tears spilledover, but her mouth pulled into a desperate smile. "We did somethingterrible. Mother said it was okay. She said it wouldn't matter because it wasfor a good reason, and she…she…she…" Lucy got stuck on the word.
"Me,"Emmeline hissed at her, hovering over the other woman but going unseen. "Me. Me. Me."
"She wouldn't bemissed," Lucy hiccupped. "Mother said. It was for a good cause, andit would give her life purpose. Really... Really, wewere saving her from a tragic life and—"
"Saving her?"Benedict almost threw up, gagging on the words.
Lucy lunged at him, kickingher forgotten teacup on the floor and fumbling to latch onto his hand with hertender, gauze-gloved ones. "I swear, Benny! She was no one. A broken family and a dark future!"
"Mybroken family!" Emmeline screamed. "Myfuture!"
He tore his hand from hissister's hold and staggered back. "You were part of it? You killedher?"
Lucy choked on a sob. "Weneeded a sacrifice, Benny! It wasn't killing. We were just moving her onto the next life. It was a mercy. She would have had a hard life."
Emmeline screamed, andBenedict winced, hands flying to his ears.
Lucy cried harder, probablythinking that he was trying not to hear her excuses. "It had to be done!We were saving you!" she pleaded.
The tall windows in herbedroom that overlooked the front of the house rattled in their frames.
Lucy whirled around, eyes bulging,but she wouldn't see anything, would she? This wasn't Mother shaking the roomwith her wrathful screams. This was Emmeline. His Emmeline.
The windows cracked, and withthe pitch of that cry only he could hear, they burst, spraying glass inside ratherthan out.
Lucy screamed and twisted awayfrom the explosion, panting for air. Her arms trembled, bent up to shield thesides of her face. "It really is her, isn't it? She really is stillhere?" she whispered.
Benedict staggered back,struggling to catch his breath in the wake of Emmeline's flash of anger."Yes. She's always been with me."
Lucy let out a string of madlaughs tangled with cries. "We thought we sent her on. We didn't know… Itwas supposed to give you her sight so that you could see the spirit world likethe rest of us. We made her a ghost so that you could see like a ghost, but itwas only supposed to keep her sight. Not her." She sank to her knees,clutching at her head. "Not her."
Benedict backed out of theroom, shoulder hitting the doorframe.
Emmeline bent over Lucy, herhands balled against her bloody skirt and jaw dropping open wide to let looseanother furious scream right in Lucy's face, but she didn't see. She didn'teven hear it. But she felt the tremble of the room. She gasped when the glassshards lifted off the floor, making gentle sounds in the air before flinging ather in a vicious rush.
A part of him thought to saveher. She was his sister, after all. But she had done this, hadn't she? She hadpurchased this pain. Wasn't it right that she knelt before it now?
He turned, groping at thedoorknob. Emmeline's scream was too much; it pressed at his skull and rangagainst his eardrums. His stomach lurched, his whole body pushing forward asthough to outrun the return of his last
