Then she turned in his arms and held on to him, on to the fact of him being with her again, and he kissed the top of her head and held her tight until she stopped crying.

Then he turned off the water and said, “Are you all right?” and she said, “No, but I’m getting there,” and lifted her face to smile at him, to show him that everything was fine.

He was looking down at her with so much concern, so clearly seeing her and nothing else, that she burst into tears again, and he pulled her out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her, trying to keep her warm. “I’m going to call a doctor,” he said, and she shook her head.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said, trying to stop the tears. “I just need to get these wet clothes off-”

“Are your clothes in the nursery or the bedroom?” he said, ignoring the fact that his suit pants were soaked.

“I’ve got a robe here,” Andie said. “You go change and… I’ll try to explain.”

She stripped off her wet things, put on her robe, and combed her wet hair, and looked at herself in the mirror, trying to see May in her eyes, wanting to know that it was her, just her, nobody else in there.

Then she went to find North.

He was waiting outside in the hall, dry now in a faded T-shirt and worn sweatpants, and she began to say, “I’m sorry,” but he put his arms around her before she got past “I’m-” and she leaned against him, grateful all over again for the fact of him between her and the rest of her insane life.

“Come here.” He pulled her into her bedroom-May’s bedroom-and sat her down on the edge of the bed, put his arm around her, and looked in her eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“I was possessed.” Even saying it made her feel sick again.

His face went blank. “Possessed.”

“Just listen to me,” she said, exhausted and violated and hopeless. “You don’t have to believe me, but just listen.” He nodded and she went on. “There are ghosts in this house. The nanny was right. The others who left were driven away by them even if they didn’t know the ghosts were here. There are three of them. Two of them came with the house, they’re very old, and they’re just living on… need. One of them wants the house and one of them wants Alice.”

“Have you seen these ghosts?” North asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“Yes. But they’re not the ones who possessed me. That was May, the kids’ aunt, their mother’s sister. I think you met her when you came down here after their dad died.”

“Really young,” North said. “Very friendly. Lots of dark curly hair. Looked a little bit like you.”

“More beautiful than I’ll ever be,” Andie said, feeling sick again. “But that’s her. The ghosts killed her.”

North nodded again, his face a mask. “And now she walks?”

“Dances, mostly,” Andie said. “She’s young and she’s bitter about dying and she wants her life back, she wants a do-over.”

“Understandable,” North said.

“And she has a crush on you. So she… hijacked me. I was tired and drunk and I fell asleep, and she just… moved in, took over, and went to you. That was May you were talking to, not me.”

“I thought it was the Scotch.”

“North, there are ghosts here and they’re real and they’re dangerous. I know you’re never going to believe me, but it’s true. I can’t prove it to you, I can’t show you anything you could take to court, but this house is haunted, and we’re all in danger, and I have to do something about it, which is why we’re having another séance tomorrow.”

He nodded, calm as ever. “How about we all just leave? Pack up everybody right now and get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Alice won’t go, and if Alice won’t go, Carter won’t go, and if Alice and Carter won’t go, I won’t go. I know you told Alice she’d have to leave if she was in danger, but we can’t force them, you saw what happened when Will tried. Even if we managed to get her stable after she went crazy, she’d never trust either one of us again. I’m staying until Alice says it’s all right to go.” North shook his head, and Andie said, “I think she’s got a better grip on what’s going on here than anybody else. She and Carter know things I don’t. Until they trust me enough to tell me, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Here’s my concern,” North said, his voice very kind. “You believe in ghosts.”

Andie closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of it all. He was never going to understand, he was never going to believe her. If she hadn’t seen the ghosts, she wouldn’t believe her. “I know. But they’re real, and they’re dangerous, and that’s my big problem now. I understand if you can’t help me, but that’s what I’ve got to fix.”

“I’ll help you. I’ll always help you. I’m just not sure how to do it.” He hesitated. “There’s a psychologist I work with a lot-”

“No,” Andie said. “I’m not crazy and there’s no room for anybody else in this house.”

“Well, Lydia is evicting Kelly and her cameraman as we speak.”

“She can’t. It’s storming like crazy outside. They’ll never get that satellite truck up that drive and out onto the road without wrecking it, and they can’t leave it, it’s worth a fortune. They’re here until the storm stops and the road dries out.”

“Okay.” North rubbed his forehead with his free hand, while his arm tightened around her. “Have the kids been threatened by these ghosts?”

“No.”

“So whoever’s doing this is focusing on you?”

“Nobody’s ‘doing this,’ ” Andie said tiredly. “There are ghosts.” She pushed herself up off the bed, not willing to fight a useless battle. “I know you don’t believe. You know I believe. We’ll just have to leave it there.”

He looked like he was going to say something, and when he didn’t, she said, “I’m really sorry about throwing up on you. That was rude.”

“It really was,” he said, straight-faced.

“Well, it won’t happen again. Thank you for the shower and… for being so kind.”

“Are you trying to be funny?” North said. “Because that isn’t.”

“I think if your ex-wife comes to your room in the middle of the night, throws up on your feet, and tells you she’s been possessed, the absolute minimum she has to say when she leaves is, ‘Thank you for being so kind.’ ”

“I think it’s what two people who care about each other should just expect.”

“So if you throw up on my feet, you’re not going to apologize?”

“Nope,” North said, smiling at her, his shoulders broad in that ratty old T-shirt, and she wanted to say, “Let me sleep with you tonight, make this go away,” but instead she said, “Well, I owe you one now anyway, so that would be fair.”

“Stop keeping score, Andie.” He stood up, and she tried not to look at him. “We’re not married anymore but that doesn’t mean we’re not us.”

Andie swallowed. “That’s… good. I mean, I agree.” She began to back toward the door. “I have to go now. I’m really tired and… Thank you.” Her back hit the door and she escaped into the nursery, taking one last look at him standing tall in the lamplight, expressionless as he watched her go.

She closed the door and looked around to see if May was nearby, waiting to pounce.

The thing was at the foot of Alice’s bed, and Andie sucked in her breath and then realized that the room was dark, too dark.

The fire was off. Somebody had turned the fire off.

She ran over and fell on her knees, feeling biting ice at her back as she turned the tap, and then the fire whooshed to life, and her back was warm again, and when she turned, there was nothing at the foot of Alice’s bed, nothing in the room.

But somebody had turned the fire off.

She got up and pushed furniture against the doors to the little hall and the gallery. She hesitated before the door to May’s bedroom because North was in there and she trusted him, but she didn’t trust anybody else, so she shoved the worktable up against that door.

Then, barricaded in the nursery now warm from the fire, she tried to think of what to do but her mind was so addled from exhaustion…