Derrick held Abrams’ horrified stare. Yes, he was entertaining it. The same man who had tried to throw me out of his office for mentioning ghosts now sat with a measure of desperation etched across his face. A stab of regret stuck like a shard in my chest. Estelle had said the case was personal to him. Seeing his reaction, I worried it was more than that. Was Sophie related to the broken line on his palm? He’d never looked so tormented. I longed for his stare of cool indifference instead of this raw insecurity.
“I said, sit down. Do this for me, or leave.” A fierce look passed between them.
Abrams blew out a harsh breath. “They’re deluding you, Detective, just like the others. I won’t be a part of that. I’ll wait outside.”
A stilted silence followed as Abrams barged through the beaded curtain. Vivian bowed her head, and I watched the beads sway back into place. What did he mean, we were like the others?
Derrick gave nothing away, his attention focused on Vivian. “Continue, please.”
“Of course, Detective. Start by placing your hands palms-down on the table.” She waited until we’d followed her instructions, then closed her eyes. “Sophie, are you here with us?”
Nothing happened.
“Sophie, please make your presence known.”
A rush of air snaked over my skin, the breeze unexplained in the windowless room.
“I can feel her,” Vivian whispered. “Sophie, speak to me. Tell us what you’ve come here to say.”
A crystal vase splintered. I shrieked and shielded my eyes. Derrick wrapped his arm around my shoulders, dragging me to him as tiny razors flew through the air. I looked up to find blood welling along his jaw.
“You’re bleeding.” I tried to stem the flow with my sleeve.
Derrick caught my wrist, his gaze running urgently over my body while he brushed glass from my hair. “I’m fine. Are you hurt?”
“No. Viv, are you—?”
A void passed over Vivian’s face, and her mouth went slack. She rocked in her chair before slumping against the table. Strands of dark hair pooled over her limp form.
“Viv!” I squeezed her shoulders in an attempt to rouse her. Sweat coated her skin, dampening the neckline of her gown.
Derrick crouched at her side and pushed back Vivian’s hair, searching for a pulse. The instant his fingers touched her neck, her hand clamped around his wrist. She lifted her head off the table and fixed us with a feverish stare. Blood streaked her cheeks in thin rivulets from a piece of glass embedded in her skin.
“Oh, Viv,” I moaned.
She crooked her head toward me, still latched onto Derrick’s arm. When I bumped the edge of the table, her chin tilted in the other direction, and she studied me like a bird perched on a branch.
It wasn’t Vivian.
Fear seized my insides. Her lips moved, speaking in a lilting voice I didn’t recognize. It sent a shiver down my spine.
“All the petals are gone, only the thorns remain.” She faced Derrick, threading her fingers through his. “I shouldn’t have kept secrets from you.” Her voice broke on a whimper.
“Sophie?” Derrick tightened his grip. “Is it really you?”
Sophie nodded. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood and turning pink. “I tried to run. Couldn’t. I begged. Pleaded. I needed you.” Her shoulders trembled, sobs wracking her body.
Derrick’s voice cracked with emotion. “I should have been there. I’m sorry.” He pulled her against him, smoothing the hair at the back of her head. “Tell me what happened. I’m here now. Who did this to you?”
“All I see are roses. Their petals stain the earth like blood. Their thorns cut to the bone.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not making sense. Sophie, please…”
She stared at me over Derrick’s shoulder. The air seemed to vanish, and I couldn’t breathe. Something flashed in Sophie’s eyes—an understanding. Her lips curved into a soft smile.
“Take care of him for me. He needs you.”
I must have nodded because she turned back to Derrick and held a slender finger to her lips. “Shh… Everything is all right now. Follow the roses.” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she swayed on her feet.
