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Sully sat beside her, his jaw dark with stubble. Amy felt comforted by his steadiness.They prepared the great room again, but differently: fewer candles, their flames caged in glass lanterns; a ring of salt traced directly on the wood. At the center lay Verity’s journal, still damp at the edges.

Rhiannon surveyed the circle.

Kaitlin and Kelsey exchanged wary glances but took their places. Amy sat where she had before, Rhiannon at the head, Sully at her right.

The first light spilled through the tall windows, opalescent and cold.

Rhiannon’s voice was quiet but firm.

“We reopen what was left unfinished only to close it in peace. Verity Blackwell, if you hear us, hear love in this room. Nothing else.”

Amy’s fingers brushed the edge of the journal. She read the confession again, but this time the words came slower, weighted with reverence rather than fear.

“Each day I bear the weight of that night…”

Halfway through, a whisper braided itself into her voice—Verity’s own. Sully’s shoulders stiffened as they all looked at her. A pale shimmer stirred above the table, almost like dust in early sunlight.

Amy felt warmth slide over her throat as Verity’s presence slipped forward and the two of them shared one heartbeat. The whisper continued beyond what was written.

Verity (through Amy): “Forgive me, Jeremiah. I’ve always loved you.”

A soft wind circled them, lifting Amy’s hair. The journal pages quivered once and stilled.

Rhiannon murmured, “She’s here—and waiting.”

The temperature dropped without warning. Candles paled to a faint blue hue, hissing as moisture touched them.

From the far end of the room came the sound of footsteps—the heavy tread of boots on plank, wrong in rhythm and distance. The air thickened, coiling against her lungs.

A voice spoke in her mind, clipped and ragged.

“Verity.”

Amy shuddered. The shadow formed again.

Sully flinched instinctively, half rising from his seat.

Rhiannon’s voice steadied them, like steel hidden under silk. “Sully, tell him who you are.”

Sully reached for Amy’s hand, squeezing hard. “I’m your and Verity’s great, great, great grandson. Your daughter carried on your line. Verity didn’t cheat on you; she protected herself and your child. You were poisoned with lead and mercury and weren’t yourself.”

The air wavered.

“Oh my God, someone is touching me,” Sully whispered, his voice full of awe and shock.

The shimmer beside Amy brightened until a suggestion of a gown was visible. She heard Kaitlin take a sharp breath. Amy blinked.

A figure … Not frightening, only unbearably sad.

Rhiannon’s voice dropped to a reverent murmur. “It’s time to go home, both of you.”

A sound like distant surf unfurled through the hallways.Candle flames straightened, burning pure white.

A gold glow filled the air from the rising sun and thinned as the sun rose over the Atlantic.

The journal closed itself with a soft click.

No one moved for a long time. Then Kelsey exhaled shakily. “Did that just—happen?”