Luc and I drove in silence. He hadn't said much since we had left the shop, and I was still too much of a coward to break the silence first... Not even to ask where we were going.

I hadn't even realized that he had planned to do this thing at a secondary site until he had ushered me from the shop with a few short words—the last words he had spoken. I tried to figure out which way we were headed, but I was having a hard time paying attention to the road. I kept peering at Luc from the corner of my eye, looking at his still-stony face and wondering what he was thinking.

It wasn't until we drove over the bridge that I realized I knew this path. We had driven this way so many times, I was surprised it had taken me so long, distracted or not. WE left the city behind and disappeared into the neighbourhood that dominated the mountain side. The huge trees and shrubs that lined the streets blocked the setting sun and obscuring the ridiculous opulent houses beyond, leaving only bits of their roofs visible.

We were headed back to Polly's.

The thought of returning gave me a chill, despite the warm breeze that was filtering through the half-open window and ruffling my still wet hair. It hadn't been that long since that house had been my home, but I really didn't miss it. It had starred in too many nightmares, both dreams and reality. I was sure that Luc had a good reason for choosing it as the location, but I couldn't bring myself to ask what it was.

As we pulled into the half moon driveway, there was already another car parked out front. A small beater of a compact, light blue and spotted with rust. Luc didn't seem surprised by it; he parked right behind it. He didn't pause to explain it either; he grabbed his duffel bag and climbed out of the car as soon as it was off.

I sighed, lingering in the car for a moment. This really wasn't how I wanted this to go. I wished there was some magic word to pull Luc from wherever he was. Unfortunately, that would probably take more than just one word. It would be a long, ugly conversation.

Luc paused at the door and looked back at me expectantly.

With another sigh, I shrugged off my seat belt and got out of the car.

Inside, Tory was dragging the table from the kitchen out into the hall. I watched him struggle as Ethan followed after him. That explained the car, though I had never seen Tory drive it before; it must be Ethan's.

When they noticed us, Tory grunted a greeting while Ethan gave us a slight, timid smile before looking away. Tory stopped where he was and dropped the table down with a loud, echoing clunk.

"Aren't you even going to offer to help?" he asked his boyfriend breathlessly.

"I am helping," Ethan said coldly, not moving an inch. "Later. And need I remind you that you came home late again last night?"

Late? I felt a pang of hurt. Did Luc call Tory again after I had gone to bed? Suddenly I didn't feel as guilty.

"I'll help," Luc said. He held out the duffel bag to me. "Could you please take this?" His tone wasn't unkind, but still cold.

"Sure," I said, taking the handles from him. It wasn't very heavy.

He left my said and went to join Tory, picking up the opposite side of the table and lifting it. With Luc's help they carried it easily across the hall and through the wide arch of the dining room.

I followed after them.

"We're doing it in here?" I said, peeking through the doorway. The thought of it made me uneasy, thinking of all the bad memories the room held.

"There's lots of space for us to work," Luc answered gruffly, as he was still carrying the table.

He was right about that.

Since the dining table—or what had remained of it—had been cleared out, the room was cavernous. Its dense, dark patterned walls had been encircled with golden script, fortified with another barrier. The only thing left in the room was a china cabinet in the corner, and a mirror.

No, the mirror was new... It was the distorted mirror I had bought from the thrift store. It had been mounted on the far wall, it's elaborate gold frame fitting perfectly with the decor.

Luc and Tory dropped the table directly in front of it. It landed with a boom that rumbled through the house. Tory rested across it for a second, panting, before he pushed off and headed back the way he'd come, his brow dewey with sweat. Ethan had moved to linger at the far edge of the room, watching Tory's every movement.

Luc stayed where he was, surveying the room, tilting his head as he inspected the table's position.

"Is Polly okay with all this?" I asked, eyeing the ruined wallpaper.

"Yes," Luc said, still considering the room. "She volunteered it, in fact. She was just happy that I was 'finally helping you', as she put it"—he raised an eyebrow—"so she gave me full reign of the house to do what I needed to do."

Playing innocent, I averted my gaze. "That was nice of her."

"Don't praise her too much," Tory said, knocking into me as he pushed past carrying two chairs. "I don't know if it was all from the goodness of her heart. She did say she needed a reason to redecorate."

"That might not be the worst thing," I said, looking over the dated fixtures of the room. Polly had kept this place like a time capsule...

But no one was listening. Tory brushed past me again on his way out on another mission, and Luc was still staring at the walls like there was something in the pattern of the wallpaper that only he could see.

Ethan was lurking in the corner, watching the comings and goings with a distrustful eye. He had folded in on himself, wrapping his arms around his torso like was trying to literally hold himself together. He looked like he really didn't want to be here. Poor guy...

I headed over to him. "Are you okay?" I asked.

He didn't look up at me but his pale cheeks went pink. "Fine."

"Are you here for Tory?" I asked, trying to prod more out of him.

"Tory doesn't need me," Ethan said bitterly, watching his boyfriend as he returned again with another two chairs.

"That's not true," I said softly. "I'm sure he appreciates your support."

Ethan scoffed. "I'm not here for him."

"You're not?"

He shook his head. "I'm here for you."

I blinked at him. "Me?"

"Luc asked me to help," he said, his eyes sliding over to Luc, who was now fussing with the exact position of the table. "He wants to document as much of this session as possible, and he thinks my... my skills could help." His arms tightened around himself, and I realized that beneath his crossed arms was the strap of his messenger bag.

"Oh," I breathed. "I-I don't know what to say."

Ethan eyed me. "Thanks, maybe?"

A short laugh escaped me. "Yeah, I suppose. Thank you. Really. But... I can't help but notice that you seem... bothered."

"You're not wrong."

"Then why are you doing this? I mean, I'm thankful for your help, but if it really makes you so uncomfortable..."

"I'm always uncomfortable," Ethan said, the corner of his mouth twitching up for a moment. "And, just so you know, I wouldn't do this if I didn't want to. I want to help. But it's you that I don't understand..."

I raised my eyebrow. "What don't you understand?"

His grey eyes locked with mine. "Why you'd want to see those things again," he whispered. "I only saw them once and I'd be happy living out the rest of my life never experiencing that again. So why do you?"

I took a deep breath, hoping to push down the chill that was climbing up my spine. "Because I don't have a choice. They have something to tell me, something important, and I can't just keep running from their message."

Ethan let out a shuddering breath. "But what if you don't like what they have to say?"

It took me a moment to respond. Ethan looked really nervous, so I couldn't muster the courage to tell him that even I wasn't looking forward to it either—to seeing them again, and hearing what they would have to say—but...

"Knowing is better than not knowing," I said simply. It sounded almost convincing, except when my voice shook at the end.

+ + +

What do you think is going to happen during the séance?
I'd love to hear some theories. 🔮

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

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