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“It possessed me,” she said on a whisper that oozed with sadness.

The world for all of a second stopped. Memories rushed into my mind piecing it all together. “Your soul was devoured, trapped in the demon, and that’s why your ghost was missing. Then, the demon used Hector that night at the creek as a host because it needed another body after you died, and that’s why he didn’t remember anything of the past years. He wasn’t himself.”

Each piece seemed to fit perfectly together and I could hardly catch my breath. “The blue uniform the man’s wearing, I knew I recognized it.” I smacked myself in the forehead. “Now it all makes sense. The demon must have failed in stealing Hector’s soul, so he possessed one of the guards at the prison and that’s how it got out.”

My heart thumped at the clarity of it all. “And that’s why there hadn’t been any cases like yours since then. No evidence of the demon. No scared ghosts. The demon has been locked away in Hector.”

Lizbeth’s mouth had dropped open and she finally blinked. “What?”

I shook my head, not wanting to confuse an already baffled ghost. “Forget it. It’ll take way too long to explain. All that matters is you’re free.”

“I remember the demon attacking me, trying to take over my soul, and I remember trying to fight it.” Sorrow reached her gaze. “He won then? That’s what this means. He killed me?”

How to answer that? Instead of some response that would never comfort her, I merely nodded, then added, “But he’s gone now. You’re all safe.”

“I remember something like that,” another woman called out.

“Me too,” a man said.

One by one, they told of the devastation the demon caused in their lives, and I sat and listened. After each of their stories spilled from their lips, they vanished. A bright light surrounded them as they made their journey to the beyond.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t relieved that’s all they needed. That many ghosts would have taken a long time to help and time was something I didn’t have right now. Plus, a few of them by their clothing looked to have lived during the Great War. Who knew if the people they needed to settle their peace with were still alive. I was glad that all they wanted was someone to hear how their lives had met a terrible end, and even happier that they crossed over.

By the end, only Lizbeth remained, and her gaze searched mine. “My sister?”

“She’s still around and living at your house.”

The dismay in her features deepened, and coming from a dead woman it couldn’t get much worse. “Will you go to her and tell her what happened? Tell her that I wasn’t crazy and why I took my life.”

“Of course.”

She smiled, the exact smile I remembered from her picture. “Thank you.”

Those were the last words Lizbeth said as the light surrounded her, then engulfed her just like the others. I looked down to the mirror covered in silk. My thoughts were so spun around it was hard to think anything through.

Kipp.

Demon.

Lizbeth.

My only concern was finishing with the instructions from Gretchen. I stood, left the circle and went outside. The moment the sun shone down over me, I removed the silk and let the light hit the mirror.

Nothing came out of it. Not that I really expected it to. From what I’d seen of the protection I had against the demon, I believed whatever I had to do worked. Wasn’t magic so different than what I thought? No sparks of energy, obvious signs it held power, but hadn’t I been proven wrong?

I kept the mirror in hand and entered the home again. I stepped into my circle, faced east and as I spoke I turned in each direction, “Raphael to the east, Michael to the south, Gabriel to the west, Uriel to the north—bless this house with your protection.”

After which, I closed the circle, then strode over to my bag. I took out the charcoal mixture with the spices and set the jar on the floor, then lit it on fire. Just as I did, the man on the ground groaned, drawing my attention to him.

“Where am I?” he said, pushing himself off the ground and rubbed his head. “Why am I here?”

I thought up a plan super-fast. “You clearly got very drunk last night, and I heard you moaning in here. You really shouldn’t drink so much.”

He blinked. “I got drunk?”

“Yes,” I lied. “Really, a man who works at a prison shouldn’t drink so much. Now go home.” Just for his benefit, I added, “And go to church. You need it.”

He blinked again. “I need to go to church?”

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