Page 12 of Haunting the Deep

“Nope,” says Mary.

“Fine,” Alice concedes, and gestures at Susannah to continue.

Susannah looks at me. “We don’t do spells just to do them. Alice reads bones so we can try to prevent bad things from happening. And my readings of people help keep us from walking into traps.”

I look at Mary, and she twists a curl around her finger. “Our families have been casting in Salem for a long time. There’s way more going on here below the surface than anyone realizes. We do our part to keep things on the up-and-up.”

Susannah nods. “Now, there’s obviously something going on with you. Don’t bother to try and argue that there isn’t. From what Alice’s bones say, it’s most likely serious. Waiting is a mistake. We might already be late in sorting out whatever it is.”

I pull at the hole in the knee of my jeans, considering her words.

Mary leans forward. “What’s the problem? You don’t want to do magic?”

“That’s definitely part of it.”

Mary smiles. “Then what did you mean when you asked us to help you stop seeing spirits?”

“I just thought…I don’t know what I thought. I just need it to stop.”

“Magic,” Mary says.

Shit. “I guess so.”

Mary stands up. “Good. Well, now that that’s settled, let’s go eat lunch. I’m starving.”

Did I just get outsmarted? I stand up, too. “There’s no other way?”

“No,” Alice says, grabbing the door handle and peering into the hall. “All clear.” She opens the door wide.

Only the hall isn’t empty. The little girl in the pink dress is standing in it; she’s got the same amused expression she wore in my dining room. I slam the door shut.

Alice flinches. “What the hell was that?”

Mary grabs Alice’s arm. “Please tell me it isn’t the drowned guy.”

“No. A girl. Old-fashioned dress.” My voice is hushed.

“Wait, you’re seeing two ghosts?” Alice looks at Susannah.

There is a small knock on the door. I jump, but no one else reacts. I can tell by their faces that they didn’t hear it.

“What can we do?” Susannah asks.

I pace in the small dusty room. “You can come over to my house tonight and help me make this stop.”

I take a deep breath and open the door again. The girl leans against the opposite wall, examining the end of her braid. The Descendants follow me out.

“Go away,” I say in a low whisper.

“Ada,” she says, and drops her braid. “My name is Ada.” She frowns at my expression. “Are you mad because I laughed about the blueberries?” She has a British accent.

“No. I just need you to leave.”

Ada seems unfazed. “My brother Fredrick has a bad temper, too. His cheeks get red just like yours. Once, he slammed the bedroom door on me. But his sleeve got caught on the latch and he fell, putting a huge hole in it. Papa was furious.” Ada giggles.

The Descendants fan out around me, blocking me from view of anyone who might wander into the hall and see me talking to thin air.

I lean down and make my voice stern. “Go away and don’t ever come back. I don’t want you here.”