Page 33 of The Unknown

“I don’t care.”

Across the table, Katrina let out an annoyed sigh. “Stop being such a fraidy-cat, Daisy.”

She could have called me every mean word in the dictionary, and I wouldn’t have cared. Ignoring her, I turned to Mrs. Semple and said, “Please let’s stop. We can have another session tomorrow night and hopefully make contact with someone else.”

“Like your father?” Katrina said.

“Yes. Him or one of your loved ones. Just not Azra.”

“My child, we can’t select who speaks to us,” Mrs. Semple told me with a sad shake of her head. “All we can do is listen to those who come forward. As for you, Azra, please continue. Tell us what you would like to say.”

The glass stayed where it was, motionless.

“I think our new friend has gotten shy,” Mrs. Semple said. Looking at me, she added, “Perhaps you should try asking a question.”

“Me?” I said, surprised. I’d made it quite clear I had no desire to talk to Azra. If anyone should ask a question, it was Katrina. Yet Mrs. Semple nodded my way and said, “Go on. Ask anything you’d like.”

One question immediately came to mind, so I uttered it out loud for Azra to hear.

“Azra, are you a spirit?”

Instantly, the glass slid to theNOtile in a single, unbroken motion.

“No?” Katrina asked, not even attempting to hide her disappointment. “What does that mean?”

“That they’re not dead,” Jonquil said.

“Or,” Mrs. Minafer added ominously, “that they were never alive to begin with.”

I lifted my gaze to the inky darkness hovering above the table, the spot where I assumed Azra was lurking. “If you’re not a spirit, then how are you communicating with us? Where are you right now?”

The glass started to move toward the letters again, repeating the earlier pattern of anH, anE, and doubleLs. At first, I thought Azra was attempting to greet us again, but the glass stopped in the center of the table, minus theO.

“‘Hell’?” Mrs. Semple asked.

Immediately, the glass shot across the table to theYEStile, a confirmation that made Mrs. Minafer gasp. “Gracious!” she exclaimed as she took her fingers off the glass.

“Don’t!” Katrina said. “It might break the bond.”

“That’s exactly my intent.”

I agreed with Mrs. Minafer. The fearful rattle that arrived when I learnedAzra’s name had only grown stronger, telling me that whatever else they had to say was no good.Theyweren’t good. I felt it in my marrow.

By now, Katrina’s face was scrunched into a pout. “Please. I want to hear more.”

With great reluctance, Mrs. Minafer placed her fingers back on the glass, where mine remained. For better or worse, we were going to continue the conversation.

“I must say,” Mrs. Semple said, “I wasn’t expecting such a response.”

The glass moved again, returning to the lettered tiles spaced around the table’s edge. The first word it spelled was three letters.

L-E-T

After a brief pause, the glass veered toward two more letters.

M-E

Another pause followed before the glass indicated an additional three letters.