He looked at her with eyes as flat as ever, a twelve-year-old who’d seen too much. “The police said Aunt May fell into the moat, but Crumb dragged her body there and then washed up the blood. After that, the nannies came.”

Andie nodded. “And that’s when Alice started to scream all the time.”

“She’s afraid somebody else will die. That’s why we get rid of the nannies. The ghosts aren’t going to kill Crumb, she’s been here forever. It’s the new people who try to change things…” He lifted his chin. “You should get out of here.”

“Not without you.”

“They’ll never let us go,” Carter said.

“The hell they won’t,” Andie said, and then North came in.

“I just threw Kelly O’Keefe and her cameraman into the storm,” he began and then he stopped. “What happened?”

“They’re not hallucinations, they’re ghosts,” Andie said.

“Andie,” he began, and she shook her head, slowly.

“Do not fuck with me on this one,” she said. “There are ghosts.”

Andie asked North to sit with the kids while she went to find Isolde, so he stayed, watching Alice fall back asleep and Carter stare into the fire.

Carter looked like Southie at twelve, the same flop of brown hair, the same blue eyes, the same gangly, growing-in-all-directions body. The difference was that Southie had laughed all the time when he was twelve. Carter looked like he’d never laughed in his life.

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” North told him.

Carter nodded, evidently not surprised.

“But I believe something bad is going on here, and I believe you’ve been handling it on your own for too long.”

“Andie’s good,” Carter said, and then when North didn’t say anything, he added, “It’s been better with her here.”

“I’m here now, too.”

Carter nodded, not impressed.

North studied the boy’s face, the circles under his eyes, the exhaustion that wasn’t just from this night, the kind of tiredness that came from never letting down your guard. “My dad died when I was twelve.”

Carter gave him a “so what?” look.

“My mom had a hard time with it. She felt guilty about a lot of things. So I covered for her. I had to. I had a little brother, and he was really scared. But I got really tired of handling it.”

Carter nodded.

“And then about six months after my dad died, my uncle Merrill came back from this long trip he’d been on, and bought the house next door, and took over the family, and everything got better. Not back to normal because my dad was still dead, but… better. Because somebody had my back.”

Carter sat very still, and North remembered how it had been, how he’d just stared at his uncle when he’d finally said, “Sorry, boy, I let you down. I’ll take care of things now.” Even though Merrill had screwed up the firm, he’d taken damn good care of the family. You could forgive a lot if somebody was there to take care of things until you grew up.

“I’ve got your back now,” North said. “The ghost thing, I don’t believe in that. But you are not the only one taking care of your sister now. It’s not just Andie taking care of Alice and you. From now on, I’ll be here.”

“Here,” Carter said.

“I’ll stay here with you until I can get you out of here,” North said, having no idea how the hell he was going to do that and keep up with his cases. “And then you’ll come to Columbus and live with us. Your rooms are ready now. I’ll be there for you. I will be there for you as long as you need me. And I’m sorry as hell that I didn’t say this two years ago.”

“Wouldn’t have done any good,” Carter said. “We can’t leave.”

The boy sounded hopeless, not obstinate.

“Why?”

“People die when we try to leave.”

“Who?”

“My dad. Aunt May. The last governess almost. They want us here.”

“The ghosts?”

Carter nodded. “I know you think we’re crazy, but we see them. Andie does, too. I didn’t think she did, I thought she was just trying to make us feel better, but she yelled at Peter, she saw him. And she talks to Aunt May.”

“She thinks she does, anyway. Look, we can protect-”

“No.” Carter shook his head. “It was bad enough before Andie, when Aunt May died. Alice is scared to death that Miss J will kill somebody else. And it’s not just that.” He stopped and looked over at his little sister, sleeping like a ghost under her sequined comforter. “Alice loves Andie. Aunt May, we liked her fine, but Andie… If Andie dies, Alice really will go crazy. We can’t leave.”

“Andie’s not going to die,” North said, chilled by the resignation in the boy’s voice.

“You can’t stop them,” Carter said. “You don’t even believe in them.”

“If I take you to Columbus, will you be all right?” North said, grasping for something logical. “Will they follow you? These ghosts?”

“I don’t know. Miss J kills people to keep Alice from leaving, so I don’t think she can go. But they’ll never let us go. You don’t get it. We can’t leave.”

“You’re right, I don’t get it,” North said. “But I’ll figure it out. I know a lot more than I did when I got here, and I’ll figure out the rest. And then I’ll end it, and I’ll take you home to Columbus. Your life will be normal again, Carter. I’ll see to it.”

Carter looked back at the fire again. He wasn’t shaking anymore, he was warm again, but he didn’t believe anybody was going to save him.

I couldn’t have screwed this up more if I’d worked at it, North thought.

Carter looked up. “Thanks.”

“What?” North said.

“For trying to help.” He hesitated a minute and then he said, formally, “We appreciate it.” Then he climbed up into the other twin bed and settled in, his back to North.

“You’re welcome,” North said and thought, I’m getting you out of here, kid, and began to think things through, methodically and thoroughly, wishing he had a legal pad and his pen.

“There are ghosts upstairs,” Andie said to Dennis when she found him still working in the dining room.

“Which one?” Dennis said.

“Peter. They’re getting stronger. Where’s Isolde?”

“She went to bed,” Dennis said, shuffling through his notes. “Peter. Right. A man named Peter was murdered here. The official report was that he was found on a path, but gossip at the time was that it happened in this house, which is why he walks here.”

“Other people knew he was here?”

“I can’t find much,” Dennis said, pulling a very old book toward him. “But this was in the library here. It’s a journal from a governess who was here then. She admires him, but she says he’s very proprietary about the house. I’m assuming now that he’s dead, he still thinks he owns the place.”

“Wait a minute,” Andie said. “You believe in ghosts?”

“I saw them,” Dennis said.

Andie sat down beside him. “What did you see?”

“A beautiful woman.” His face lit up as he spoke. “Lots of curly dark hair, big eyes, beautiful smile.”

“That’s May,” Andie said. “She’s the kids’ aunt.”

“Another woman. And a man. Is this them?”

He pulled out three more papers, rough amateur sketches, but Andie recognized May in all her curly-headed glory, Miss J in her flounced skirt and hollow eyes, and Peter in his coat, standing with his hands on his hips, looking like he did own the place. Dennis had drawn them not with great skill but in great detail.

“That’s them, all of them.”

“I’ve seen ghosts,” Dennis said, wonder in his voice. “I was so afraid I was just hallucinating.”

“Well, there’s a chance,” Andie began and then looked at the drawings again. Lots of detail.

“These are really the ghosts?” he said. “Does May have those earrings, does the other woman have that locket, the man with that coat, that watch? I got the details right?”

“Yeah. You saw ghosts.”

Dennis closed his eyes, smiling. “All my life I wanted to see ghosts. This is wonderful!”