Thomas ate his meal faster than Edith has ever seen, his eyes flashing to the waiting pages between them. Edith rested her head on her hand as Thomas' eyes scanned the papers, occasionally staying on one spot to read her side notes. The more he read, the more his expression became unreadable. Edith rose to clear the dishes, questioning whether she shouldn't have written about the school, especially if Thomas was connected to it somehow. When she returned, another pair of eyes were scanning her words.

Blue eyes.

Edith steadied herself against her chair.

I thought she was gone.

Artemis was leaning over Thomas' shoulder, almost cheek to cheek. 

"A cover-up?"

Edith focused on Thomas who regarded her curiously.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you implying the library fire was a cover-up for a murder?"

Thomas' words had a bite to them that Edith did not expect or appreciate.

"I don't know. Maybe. I haven't thought that far. Why?"

Edith glanced at Artemis. The dead girl held her gaze.

"Well, it seems like everything you've written so far suggests it."

"Maybe that's what happened," Edith snapped, raising her shoulders. She gripped the back of her chair harder, equally agitated by Thomas' sudden defensiveness and unsettled by Artemis' presence. 

The white-haired girl shook her head. Edith narrowed her eyes, confused, before looking towards Thomas.

"It could be..." she said slowly, "that the blaze was not the cover-up but how the killer wanted to get rid of his victims?"

Thomas seemed to be looking through her before sighing. Artemis shook her head again.

"It's your story," Thomas fidgeted with the papers. "You can do what you wish with it. I'm just...surprised about the approach you're taking with it."

Thomas resumed reading but with significantly less vigor.

"It could have been an accident?" Edith murmured softly, speaking directly to Artemis.

She nodded. 

Thomas rose.

"I'm going to bed."

Before Edith could reply, he had swept out of the room. Artemis watched him leave and continued to look on even after Thomas disappeared from view. Edith collected the unread pages, eyeing Artemis warily. 

"So the fire was an accident, and you and Thomas were in it?"

Artemis nodded, the tendons in her neck stretching against muscle. 

"You can talk now. We're alone."

The ghost's naked eyeball swiveled towards Edith.

"Is..." Artemis' voice rasped as though she had smoked a lifetime's supply of cigars, and Edith's chest swelled with pity, thinking about how the young girl struggled to breathe earlier that day.

"Is he happy?"

Edith was taken aback. 

"He's..." Edith wavered. She wasn't as confident as she would like to be. "I don't know. I want to think he is now that we're married."

She touched the ruby on her ring finger.

"What are you doing here?"

Silence. Edith was alone.

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Thomas was in bed by the time Edith joined him but knew he wasn't asleep. He was on his back with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed too tight. She slipped under the covers, careful not to touch him. Words swirled in her mind but she couldn't find the right ones. 

"I'm sorry."

Edith's voice was small and cracked towards the end. Tears welled in her eyes. The fire. The ruins. They were a fantasy, a ghost story to her. Something she can use as a muse. But once she suspected that the fire, Artemis, and Thomas were connected, she shouldn't have written about it the way she did. Thomas' reactions and expressions surrounding that library flashed in her mind. Why didn't she see it before?

Edith turned to Thomas, willing him to say something but he remained still and silent.

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The bed was empty except for a sleeping Pup when Edith woke. Her chest squeezed painfully. She crept down the stairs, hoping to catch sight of Thomas in the kitchen. Then she made her way to the library. No Thomas. 

She recovered the pages from the kitchen table where she left them and marched to the library fireplace. The papers crumpled in her hands and she threw them into fireplace before grabbing more wood. Tears threatened to come, her breathing quickened. After grabbing the small box on the mantel, she knelt down and fumbled for a match. A bony hand hovered over hers. Artemis was kneeling besides her.

"What is it?" Edith croaked, no longer caring about upsetting the dead girl. 

Artemis pointed to her half-charred throat.

"You can't talk right now?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

She made a clawing movement up her neck and then grabbed it forcefully.

Edith thought about yesterday. The smoke, the desperate gasping and coughing, the silent screaming.

Artemis broke off a piece of burnt wood and grabbed the crumpled pages, smoothing them out and smudging ash and dried blood in places. She moved the charcoal across the paper. Edith watched, bewildered. Artemis gestured to the pages and then to herself before continuing to draw at a faster pace.

Edith's eyes scanned the shadows, trying to reconcile the images. 

"Edith?" Lucille called out.

Edith grabbed the pages and shoved them under the nearest armchair. She didn't know why she was hiding them but her body seemed to know something her mind did not.

Lucille strolled in, holding a tea tray. Artemis was gone.