Knox
Miss Tara stares down Sylvie coldly. “Do you suppose the spirit realm to be so impotent that it cannot use the tools available to it to communicate with us?”
“No, no, not at all,” Sylvie stammers.
“I just changed that battery last week with a brand-new one from Dollar Tree,” Miss Tara says with an imperious tone, thus eliminating every possible explanation but supernatural intervention.
“I’ll be quiet,” Sylvie says.
Miss Tara gives a firm nod that says that would be best and turns her attention back to me. “I see a safe harbor for you. The stability you seek. A person advanced in years . . .”
“My grandma,” I murmur, my heart racing. I know better than to give her positive affirmation she can use against me, but it still slipped out.
Miss Tara closes her eyes tight. “A woman, yes. She is . . . ailing. Hurry to her. You must go quickly. She doesn’t have much time.”
My pulse accelerates. What if? “What about my sister?” I ask. “How is she?”
Miss Tara draws a long inhale. “Your sister,” she says with a little laugh.
“Is a narcissist. And a taker. And I know what it’s like to have a sister like that.
Her husband always nattering in her ear, You should go out on your own, we should do our own thing.
Anyway, forget about her. She’ll never change. ”
My heartbeat begins to return to its normal cadence.
I’m an only child.
“Now we turn to you,” Miss Tara says crisply to Sylvie.