Page 52 of Specters & Spotlights

Lark’s gaze flicked away for the briefest second, like the situation hadn’t gone to plan.

Then she gave a quick, brittle laugh and waved it off. “No worries. Friends, then.”

“Of course,” Elise replied, trying to shake the disquiet pooling in her chest.

Lark turned to go, but her posture was just a little too stiff. Her expression too carefully arranged.

When the door swung shut behind her, Elise stared at it a moment longer than she meant to. Something about the exchange wasn’t sitting right. Something in Lark’s reaction.

You don’t feel anything?

Not just disappointment. Disbelief. She couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going on… Lark wasn’t telling her everything.

Kevin waited a beat before speaking.

“Okay,” he said finally. “So that was weird, right? Just making sure we’re all aligned on the weirdness.”

Elise didn’t answer right away.

“She looked at you like you missed your cue in a love scene,” he added. “Then flinched when you didn’t play along.”

Elise sighed. “It didn’t feel right. Like she was expecting something. Or… like something didn’t land.”

As Elise dug around in her bag for the warding kit, her phone buzzed with a message.

Cici

Call me when you’re free.

She paused, thumb hovering over the screen, and felt the memory tug her back to two nights ago.

The hotel room had smelled like too much soap and not enough sleep. Nick had walked her to the door without asking too many questions, though the concern in his eyes lingered in her memory even after he left. He’d only agreed to go after she swore she’d unpack her warding kit and protect the room. She had. Barely.

Then she’d called Cici.

Even before Elise had spoken, Cici had known. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Her voice had been calm, but weighted—like someone reaching through the dark to steady your hand.

Elise had confirmed it, barely managing the words. “I think… I think he’s dead.”

There had been silence on the line. Not the bad kind. The kind that held space for grief, for disbelief. For fear.

That call had shifted something. Made it real. Elise hadn’t let herself imagine that he could be dead. She had spent years running, building walls, protecting herself, creating distance. But she had never considered that what kept him away was the grave.

And still—he’d found her.

“I always thought,” Elise had whispered, “that he just gave up trying to find me.”

She hadn’t cried, not really. Just trembled from the inside out. But Cici had been solid on the other end of the line. Assuring. Soothing.

“We’ll figure it out,” she’d said. “I’ll dig up whatever information I can. I’ll send you a care package, and some new things for your kit. I’ll bless a Snickers bar and send it to you, if it will help.”

Elise had laughed, weak but grateful.

“Promise me you’ll call if anything feels off,” Cici had said before they hung up.

“I will.”