Paul played along as if they’d rehearsed it. “By the children, do you mean the ones that were found burned to death by the Charleston police?”

Nina paused to catch her breath. “Yes,” she whimpered.

In fact, she wasn’t lying. She did feel a strong spirit presence enter Ormsby House. She couldn’t discern how many or distinct personalities, but that was never one of her gifts. Sure, sometimes an earthbound spirit would come to her, and in those instances she would form a dialogue, a bond, as strong as if she were speaking to the living. Out here, it was different. From the moment she’d accepted the Harpers’ invitation, it was impossible not to sense the young souls that still clung to the island. But they’d been so silent, as if they were either oblivious to or deliberately avoiding her.

They were here now, that was a certainty. And as usual, they watched them with mute interest.

“Can you see them?” Paul asked, looking absolutely terrified. Rusty was a bit waxen himself.

She looked over his shoulder and pointed. “Yes. There are three girls standing outside the library doors. They’re very young, wearing shorts and pink and yellow T-shirts.” In fact, she could see nothing.

Paul said, “Do you think you could get them to speak to us?” He turned on an EMF meter and placed it on a table, along with a handheld audio recorder and a curved metal hanger with a small, hanging replica of the Liberty Bell, crack and all. “We don’t want to frighten you. We only want to talk. If you want, you can come over to this table and let us know you’re here by either making the needle move on that black box, or by talking into the silver recorder in the middle or even by making the bell ring.”

Nina had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as she watched Paul talk to an empty doorway with all the tenderness he normally reserved for dealing with his niece and nephew. She wondered how all those supposed ghost hunters managed to talk to thin air with such sincerity, all without cracking even the tiniest smile at the absurdity of it all.

They waited a moment to see if anything would happen. Tobe stood behind the cameramen, hands clasped together, eyes glued to the table.

Nina said, “I know it’s been a long time since anyone talked to you. It must get very lonely out here. I’d like to help you, but I need you to show everyone that you’re here with us.”

A gust of wind rattled one of the great room’s windows. Rusty whirled to film the window. He was the jumpiest of them all and there was still a long way to go.

Ting-ting-ting.

Paul gasped as the bell gently rocked back and forth for several seconds.

“Do you think it’s the wind?” he asked.

Nina shook her head. “Very good, girls. Can you do that again so no one can doubt it’s you?”

It seemed as if everyone in the room held their breath. She wondered who exactly was ringing the bell. Maybe it was the wind. Or maybe it was one of the actual children that spent their time hiding from here. Either way, she had to work with it.

Ting-ting.

“Very good. Thank you. I’d like to ask you some questions. You can ring the bell once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?”

Ting.

“The EMF just spiked,” Paul said. By the time Nina looked, the needle had gone back down. “Mitch, hand me one of those K2 meters.” Mitch gave his camera to Tobe, fishing one of the meters designed for electricians out of his kit bag.

Nina continued, “Are you here because you want to be here?”

There was a long pause, then two chimes of the bell.

“Are there more than three of you?”

Ting.

“More than ten?”

Ting.

“Fifteen?”

Ting.

“Twenty?”

Nina knew this was television gold. For her own sake, she’d never come across so many active spirits in one place before. That, of course, was if the spirits ringing the bell were being truthful. You can trust the dead as much as the living, which means not at all, she thought.

The bell remained silent and still.

Paul said, “Is it less than twenty?”

A quick ting-ting.

He looked to Nina for help. Something long and dark slunk around the corner of the room, slipping unnoticed behind Tobe and Mitch.

Nina’s chest felt weighted down. The sensation of fingers pressing on each knob of her spine made her shiver, hoping to shake the phantom digits off.

The bell blared to life, swaying madly.

Ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting!

The EMF meter whined like a deaf cat, the needle pinned to the end of the dial. Multicolored lights on the K2 meter flashed and blinked, then stayed on.

“What the hell?” Rusty said, backing into a wall.

Mitch moved in for a tighter shot of the table. The base of the bell began to wobble. The clanging of the bell increased in intensity, the volume far exceeding what the little souvenir was capable of producing.

Nina wanted to shout for them to stop ringing the bell, but the words wouldn’t come. It felt as though her mouth and chest had been filled with damp cotton.

Ting-ting-ting-ting!

Suddenly, the bell flew from the table, smashing into the empty fireplace. The EMF meter went in the opposite direction, shattering a window. The K2 meter and audio recorder were swept off the table, clattering to the floor.

“Holy shit!” one of the men shouted.

The table flipped end over end, bludgeoning Paul’s shin. He flopped to the floor, holding his leg. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The heavy groan of timber being pressed to the breaking point reverberated throughout the old house. Nina looked up, expecting to see the beams of the ceiling come crashing down on top of them.

“Stop it now!” Nina shouted. One hand wavered over her head, a poorly conceived notion of protection should the room collapse.

Every chair in the breakfast room slid away from the table at once, a terrifying squeal of wood on wood.

“We have to get out of here,” Rusty said, already heading for the front door.

“Tobe, help me up,” Paul moaned.

The entire house shuddered. Nina lost her balance, slamming her shoulder into Mitch’s camera, who yelped in pain as it bashed into his face. Something crashed in the kitchen.

“The plates!” Rusty yelled, pointing. “They’re flying out of the cabinet.”

What the hell is going on here? Nina’s brain felt two sizes too big for her skull. Pressure within met with pressure from without. She prayed she’d black out before it got any worse.

Hell had broken loose, and she had no idea how to stop it.

“Jason! Alice!” Daphne cried.

Jessica, winded from carrying the children, shouted back, “Over here! Just follow my voice.”

Daphne stood waiting outside the pathway, her cheeks streaked with tears. Jessica dropped to her knees, letting the kids down gently. They slowly gathered themselves, walking calmly into their mother’s waiting arms. Eddie stumbled behind her. His clothes were ripped in more places than she could count. Any exposed skin was camouflaged with dirt and blood. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his face a mask of agony.

“We have to get you back to the house and clean you up,” Jessica said.

He waved her off. “I’ll be all right. My head’s already starting to feel better. I feel the same way I did when I tried to jump my bike over Mr. Arthur’s car in seventh grade. That tumble back there felt awful familiar.” He tried to laugh but it came out as a stuttering cough.

She slipped an arm around his waist. A momentary flare-up of lightheadedness threatened to drop her back down to her knees but she fought it off. The kids had been a pair of dead weights. Carrying them had been no easy feat.

“Where did you find them?” Daphne said between kisses. The woman before them was a totally different person from the cool, calculating heiress they’d met just two days earlier.