Page 100 of The Witch

The recording is playing again. It’s a woman’s voice again, similar to the one we heard before. But now she’s saying a different word.

Again and again.

See…see…seeeeeeee…

My heart jumps into my throat. It’s the same voice I heard when I was a child—the one that permanently turned my hair white. The same word, captured on tape this time. I never even told Dixon about that—this is no scam.

It was real.

“What does ‘see’ mean?” Ethel wants to know.

“Hang on.” Dixon taps on his phone again. “Let me slow it down for you a little more. Then you’ll understand what she’s trying to say.”

The recording starts again. The woman’s voice comes back on the tape, and now I realize that she wasn’t saying “see” or “sea” or even “C.” She was saying something entirely different.

Celia…Celia…Ceeeeeelia…

Ethel stands up so abruptly that the chair she was sitting on topples over. Her usually calm eyes are flashing. “Is this some sort of scam or joke?” she spits at him.

Dixon stands to face her. “I assure you, it’s not. I simply took what was on the recording and⁠—”

“You’re a con artist!” Ethel declares. “And I want you out of my house right this instant!”

“Ethel—” I start to say.

“Right this instant!” Her face is turning a frightening shade of purple. “I want you to get out of my house and never return!”

Dixon glances my way, but I can only shrug helplessly. He scoops his phone off the table and shoves it back in his pocket. “Gladly.”

Ethel is still ranting as she follows him to the door, practically shoving him outside. She slams the door in his face, and it’s only after he’s gone that her breathing goes back to normal.

“The gall of that man!” she raves. “Trying to trick us into thinking those recordings were some sort of ghost in our house!”

I don’t know what to say. It was Ethel who told me the first night I was here that she believed Caroline was present in Pemberton. She was even more excited about hiring Dixon than I was. And now all of a sudden, she is calling him a con artist and throwing him out? It doesn’t make sense. Especially since we already paid him.

There’s something going on here that I don’t quite understand. Ethel is guarding a secret with her life, and it looks like she’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep anyone from discovering the truth.

73

Gram can’t wait to show Ethel and Mick her new haircut.

The stylist treated her like a queen. Gram wanted “all of it hacked off,” and the girl gave her the cutest short bob, marveling at how pretty she looked. Gram ate the whole thing up. The whole drive home, she’s been giggling like a schoolgirl about how Ethel won’t even recognize her.

I had my doubts about coming here, but I’m starting to feel glad that I made this decision. Gram needs me. And when I’m not worrying about Gram, I’ve found my thoughts have been occupied more and more by Henry Ziegler. I’ve never met anyone quite like him, and also, damn, he’s a good kisser. I’m super glad he’s not a ghost. If I had to leave Woodhaven, I’d really miss him.

So maybe I don’t have to leave. Maybe I can stay.

Gram is nearly levitating with excitement as I fit my key into the lock in the front door. I cast a smile in her direction, her good mood contagious. It’s only when I get the door open and find Ethel standing there, glowering at me, that my happiness deflates.

“Julia.” Her face is bright red. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Ethel!” Gram pushes past me, practically glowing with excitement. “Julia took me for a haircut. Do you like it?”

Ethel ignores her sister, her gaze laser focused on me. “Go upstairs, Letty. Julia and I need to talk.”

“But—”

“Upstairs!”