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But Cassie could not celebrate museums without also acknowledging the elephant in the room. Lord Elgin famously stole pieces of the Parthenon and transported them to Britain, where they continue to reside in the British Museum. Vandalism and theft were not solitary events, and many European museums have refused to return the legacies of other countries to their rightful places. If Greece cannot retrieve their beloved history, imagine the likelihood that an African nation could convince England to give up their cultural property, nearly all of which dwells outside of the continent.
Even the Chicago History Museum has an uncomfortable past to atone for. Lincoln Park was once a municipal burial ground for over thirty-five thousand people, many of whom had died of cholera. But the earth at the edge of the lake was loose and sandy, and they had buried the bodies below the water table, risking contamination of the city’s water supply.
In the mid to late-1800s, the bodies were transferred from the park to rural cemeteries outside the city limits. Not all could be located. The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed many of the markers, and estimates indicated ten thousand bodies could still be buried beneath the soil of the park. Every time someone brought in a backhoe—like during one of the Chicago History Museum’s several expansions—more bones would surface.
And there was the irony—Museums tested Cassie’s mental fortitude like no other place on the planet. When she crossed the threshold into a cemetery, she knew what she was getting into. There was bound to be a ghost who approached her, begging for help. But in a museum, there were no rules. Ghosts and visions assaulted her senses. Millions of objects harbored information from the past, waiting for the right person to walk by. Pair that with tens of thousands of spirits who had passed through the grounds, and it was hard to say whether Cassie could truly have a good time within the confines of such a place.
But something had shifted in that trip to New Orleans. Sabine Delacroix had turned a key and unlocked Cassie’s powers. Her abilities were nowhere near stable or perfect, but for the first time in her life, she was confident. She had patience. She trusted the answers would come in due time. New Orleans had opened her eyes to infinite possibilities. She didn’t want to run and hide anymore. She wanted to help those forgotten by the annals of time. With a newfound purpose, Cassie walked a little taller.
Nevertheless, exploring the Chicago History Museum was no easy feat. She could feel the artifacts tugging on her consciousness, begging to be heard. Spirits drifted by, untethered yet imprisoned within a world where they had been relegated to myth and legend. The older the ghost, the further gone. But the younger ones were still hungry for answers, and they often went to great lengths to seek her out.
Cassie already had a mission, and the museum was merely a pit stop along the way—somewhere to let the morning hours tick by while she awaited Harris’s arrival. She wandered aimlessly, allowing the current of the universe to determine her destination, until she stopped in front of one of the most prominent oil-on-canvas paintings in the building. Memories of the Chicago Fire in 1871, painted from memory forty-one years later by Julia Lemos, who had witnessed the historical event firsthand.
Billowing clouds of smoke stretched across the sky as tendrils of flame consumed buildings from the inside out, like a parasite, with no concern for the longevity of its host. Its fuel was too willing to accept its embrace, and so the fire feasted like a king.
Dozens of people fled the scene, their dark clothes in contrast to the pollution overhead. Cassie could hear the calamitous event like she had a crackling speaker up to her ear. People shouting, horses neighing, and wood crackling as the blaze consumed the city without pause or prejudice.
She had been to Chicago once in her youth and vowed never to return. As a teenager, she had buried her abilities so deep within herself that they were nearly non-existent. Nearly. The city had always given her a headache and caused her stomach to twist in response to an unseen force. While the migraines were a distant memory, the knot in her abdomen curled in on itself until Cassie winced. She had to loosen her muscles and tell her body to relax. But it was difficult to convince herself she wasn’t in any immediate danger when she could feel the inferno’s heat caressing the back of her neck.
A vibration in her pocket broke Cassie from her daze, and a smile spread across her face when she saw Jason’s name light up her phone. Her skin cooled, the knot loosened further, and the sound of screaming men, women, and children faded away to a dull roar that she tucked into the deepest recesses of her mind.
“Hey.” Cassie’s voice was breathless with surprise. Even from a thousand miles away, he had that effect on her. “Miss me already?”
“Can you blame me?” There was a chuckle in Jason’s voice that made her heart skip a beat. Even if he was playing into her joke, it was nice to hear. “How was your flight? Did you make some more friends?”
Cassie’s laugh echoed around the hall. A few heads turned, and she winced in response. Stepping back from the painting, she nestled into a corner where she wouldn’t disturb anyone else. “Yeah, I met a time-traveling wizard. Nice guy. Terrible fashion sense.”
Jason laughed, but the humor didn’t linger.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her first thought was the pets. “Is Apollo okay? Bear?”
“They’re fine, I promise. They might even miss you as much as I do.” The words brought a smile to Cassie’s face, but it didn’t last long. “Jane Livingston asked Magdalena if you’re still interested in your job.”
Cassie froze. “What? Why?”
“You’ve been missing a lot of work.”
“They’ve approved all my time off.”
“I know.” Jason sighed, and the air from his mouth made the phone crackle in her ear. “That’s why Jane hasn’t said anything to you. But if she’s asking Mags whether you’re still interested, then they’re probably wondering if all this time off is becoming a pattern.” There was a deadening silence on the phone before Jason blew out another breath of air. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’m being the bad guy here.”
“You’re not. I know you’re not.” She tapped her foot on the ground until someone looked at her pointedly. Putting her back to them, she lowered her voice. “Has Jane said anything to you yet?”
“No, but I’m not sure if she’s aware of our… relationship.”
Cassie’s heart fluttered at the word. The last time she’d seen Jason, they’d shared a kiss outside her hotel room. They hadn’t talked about labels or exclusivity, and Cassie was afraid if she broached the topic, she’d jinx the whole thing. “I’m choosing not to worry about it for now,” she declared. “They approved my time off, so there’s nothing they can say about it. When I get home, I’ll work overtime to make sure I wrap up all my projects. And then some.”
“Do you know when you’re coming back yet?”
“No idea. I’m supposed to meet Adelaide in a few minutes. Once I talk with her, I’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.” She wasn’t used to sharing her fears with people, so she had to force out the next words. “I’m worried about her.”
“How come?”
“She’s not acting like herself.” Cassie sagged into the wall. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed. “She won’t leave Chicago without answers.”
“I know she’s important to you,” Jason started, “and not just because she was also important to David.” He hesitated, like he was measuring each word to make sure it held exactly the right weight. “But don’t let her drag you into something you’re not ready for, okay? It’s hard enough losing someone, but it’s a whole different ballgame when you have to investigate their death, too. Trust me, I know.”
Jason hadn’t shared his story with Cassie yet, but this wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned he knew how she was feeling. Even without all the details, the idea comforted her—momentarily, at least. Then she’d remember how David had written her a letter specifically telling her not to investigate his murder, and she’d felt the guilt swell up inside her again. “Thank you.” A comforting silence filled the phone. It was nice just to exist together. “You probably have to go soon.”
