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Chapter21
Lucy
Istare, transfixed, at the shimmery image of my mother reflected in the mirror, my throat constricted with terror.
I don’t believe in ghosts and even if I did, why would Mom appear to me as a teenager?
I turn slowly, unsure whether I want to confront whatever this thing is—I don’t believe it’s Mom for a second because if she appeared to me it would be as a loving mother not this horrified vision with its mouth frozen open like some kind of Halloween mask—but when I glance at the wall, there’s nothing there.
I blink several times, refocus, but the ugly green compass-embossed wallpaper is free of faces. Swiveling back to face the mirror, I brace in case it’s some kind of weird reflective thing, but the vision I thought was Mom is gone.
Tears burn my eyes and I’m not sure if I’m more upset that what I saw was a figment of my overactive imagination or my curiosity about Mom’s background has intertwined with grief, or that I’m projecting my sadness at losing Mom into bizarre illusions.
I press my fingertips to my eyes, willing the tears away. Spending time with fellow guests in Cora’s meditation session is the last thing I feel like doing, but I know myself: hiding away here will only make me wallow and mull questions I may never get answers to.
Because that’s the kicker in all this. What happens if I get to the end of this week and I haven’t discovered how Mom and Arcania are linked?
I can’t stay here indefinitely. I can’t afford to and I’ll lose my job. Then I’ll be unemployed, unable to pay bills, and slowly losing my mind.
The emblem burned into my palm from the key fob and now, seeing Mom’s face, is a worry. I’m practical rather than fanciful despite the paranormal books I devour by the truckload. I’m known at the library for my pragmatism. My co-workers appreciate it.
So what is it about this place that’s making me see things that aren’t real?
There’s a soft knock at the door and I open it, to find Daphne holding a tray with a ghastly purple smoothie on it.
“The others have already had theirs and the meditation’s about to get started, so I thought it’d be quicker if you drank yours here,” she says, the lines fanning from the corners of her eyes deepening as she smiles.
“That’s thoughtful of you,” I say, eyeing the smoothie dubiously. “But what’s in it? It looks radioactive.”
She chuckles. “Beetroot. Guava. Ginger. Lemon. Agave syrup. Cora’s a firm believer in nourishing the body and soul so all our guests get these before any of her sessions.”
“Sounds healthy enough.” I pick up the glass and take a tentative sip, relieved when the concoction is palatable. “Thanks.”
She’s about to turn away when it hits me that I’ve been presented with the perfect opportunity. If Spencer’s away, I can probe Daphne for information, considering she’s worked here as long as him. It would’ve seemed odd for me to seek her out in the kitchen, but she’s here now and I can’t resist.
“Daphne, how long have you worked here?”
She pauses and turns back to face me, her expression wary. “Forty-two years.”
“That’s what Spencer said.”
Her smile is barely perceptible. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“You must love your job to stay so long.”
“Arcania is home to me. I came here as a backpacking twenty-year-old and never left.”
I struggle to hide my surprise. She’s sixty-two? The deep grooves bracketing her mouth, the worry lines between her brows, and the map of wrinkles traversing her forehead date her to be at least a decade older.
“Cora must be a great boss because few people stay in one job that long.”
Her nod is tentative, and she looks away. “I admire her. I witnessed firsthand how she stood up after losing her husband, then her daughter, and continued to run this place. It wasn’t easy.” She gives a little shake of her head. “We were all so close. I can’t imagine the pain of losing Ava, but she was so stoic. It was a terrible business.”
Daphne has been mute the few times I’ve encountered her so I’m definitely taking advantage of her garrulousness now.
“I heard an alligator took her daughter?”
“Yes. Ava always went on dawn walks. They found her favorite cap floating in the swamp. And a finger.” Daphne shudders. “I avoided that spot for a year.”
