Chapter 14
No one agreed on what to do next. They didn’t even agree on what was happening. The argument hovered without ever forming, each of them circling a different explanation like no one wanted to say it out loud or give it weight.
Liv rocked back and forth on the floor, arms wrapped around herself, her sobs breaking into small, helpless sounds. Beckie hovered near the wall, pacing in short, angry lines, wiping her face hard with the back of her hand like she was trying to erase the night by friction alone.
“This is fucked,” Beckie snapped. “This is so fucked. I knew this was a bad idea. I said it was a bad idea.”
“You did not say that,” Zach murmured.
Beckie whirled on him. “I said it emotionally.”
Zach didn’t respond. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the ceiling since Chad died. His gaze tracked the smooth white surface sprayed with blood, marking the places where Chad’s limbs had been torn from him one by one.
It looked like he was mapping it, committing it to memory, as if he might need to explain it later—or prove it had happened at all.
Erica sat on the floor near Elias’s body, knees pulled tight to her chest. Her hands were shaking—not violently, just enough that she noticed. The air felt thick again, crowded the way it had during the séance, but quieter now. It was as if whatever had joined their space was settled, for now.
She forced herself to her feet, forced herself to do something. If she stayed still much longer, she was afraid she’d sink into the floor and never come back out. Movement felt like resistance.
Erica knew they didn’t have much time. The police had to be on their way by now, even though it didn’t really matter if they arrived—because they weren’t getting in, and she wasn’t sure they were ever getting out.
Elias’s duffel bag lay tipped on its side near the couch. She dragged it closer, the fabric rasping against the rug.
“What are you doing?” Beckie asked.
Erica didn’t answer. She unzipped the bag.
Inside was a half-melted candle, a spiral notebook stuffed with loose pages, margins crowded with scribbles that didn’t immediately make sense, and a paperback book with a ridiculous title—Talking to the Dead Without Losing Your Mind. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
A neon Post-it clung to the cover. Consent matters was scribbled across it in thick marker.
Erica frowned at it, unsure whether it applied to the job or Elias’s personal life. She shoved the book aside, and then she saw it.
The Ouija board was old, its edges worn soft with use. The lettering had faded in places as if touched by too many hands for too long. Faint scratches marred the surface that didn’t look like normal wear. The sight of it knocked something loose in her chest.
She was sixteen again, sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor with Joslyn, giggling and daring each other to ask questions they pretended not to care about. Which boy would they marry? Would they be famous? Would they leave town? When would they die?
They’d laughed at that one the hardest, because death doesn’t seem real at sixteen.
Her throat tightened. It had been wrong about almost everything, but she hadn’t had her sister on the other side then. That was the difference now. The board wasn’t a game anymore. It was a way to talk to her big sister, to ask her for help. She lifted it and stood.
Beckie let out a humorless laugh. “Okay, I think we should cool it on the summoning of demons.”
“You don’t summon with this,” Erica said. “You communicate.”
Beckie glanced at what was left of Chad and winced. “I don’t think whatever did that is big on conversation.”
Erica turned to Zach. “My sister was here.”
His eyes finally dropped from the ceiling to her face.
“We can talk to her,” Erica said. “She can tell us how to close the door. Or undo this. Or something.”
He hesitated. Erica was sure he was going to say no, but then he nodded once.
“Okay,” he said. “Show us.”
Erica cleared the coffee table with shaking hands and set the board down. Then she rummaged through the bag again until she found the planchette and placed it in the center.
“Everyone,” she said. “Two fingers.”
Beckie sighed and dropped onto the couch. “If I get possessed, I’m killing you.”
Liv didn’t move, so Erica gently guided her fingers onto the planchette. Her skin was cold and limp to the touch, like she’d already started pulling away from this world.
Erica swallowed. “No pushing,” she said. “No jokes. No questions unless we all agree.”
“Buzzkill,” Beckie muttered.
“Beckie, can you take something seriously for just once in your life?” Zach asked.
She sneered at him but said nothing, focusing on the board.
They began moving the planchette in slow, hesitant circles. The plastic scraped softly against the board, a sound that set Erica’s teeth on edge.
Before Erica could speak, Beckie blurted, “Spirits—am I going to make it out alive tonight?”
The planchette shot to yes.
“Nice,” Beckie said, smiling.
“God dammit, Beckie!” Erica snapped. “We’re asking how to get out of here.”
“What?” Beckie shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure my efforts would be rewarded. I don’t really care if that door opens if I don’t get to walk through it.”
Erica closed her eyes. “Joslyn,” she said. “Are you here?”
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure the others could hear it.
The condo went still. Even the air seemed to pause. Then the ring on the table—the one threaded on the chain—began to spin. It was slow at first, then faster, the necklace twisting in on itself.
Liv gasped.
Beckie whispered, “Whoa.”
Zach’s fingers tightened on the planchette.
Tears streamed down Erica’s face as the ring circled, steady and sure.
Her voice broke. “Hi, Jos,” she whispered.
The planchette hesitated—not stalling, just pausing. Like someone was choosing their words carefully.
Then it slid.
H
Erica’s breath caught. It moved again.
I
A smile broke out across Erica’s face. It felt small and fragile, but it was real and something she hadn’t let herself have in years.
Of course. Hi.
Erica let out a shaky laugh. “I knew it,” she whispered.
Relief hit so hard it almost knocked her over. The planchette stayed where it was.
And the ring kept spinning, steady and patient, like her sister had all the time in the world.