Excerpt 1
The group settled around the table and sang a hymn, just like the many other sessions Addy had attended. But this one felt profoundly different. She held herself straight, as if the solidness in her spine could translate to her resolve to make it through the evening. The group joined hands, and the powder she knew was on William’s hand burned into her conscience. But she made no mention of it, only sat grim-faced in the dark as those around her received their messages, which she hoped were still legitimate amid the spectacle. The guests seemed satisfied with them, at least. She stayed silent later as she felt William’s foot slip from his shoe to work the string and as a few droplets of water sent bright sparks flying into the air; she oohed and aahed with the rest of them as the phosphorescence also highlighted her dress and hands. She had, she knew, become part of the farce.

Back at the hotel that night, the dark secrets of the séance room still hung over Addy and William, with Addy struggling to speak beneath their weight. Finally, William spoke as he packed away his tools. “You did a good job tonight. Thank you.”

The praise Addy had wanted to hear for so long fell flat against her ears. She said nothing and continued brushing her hair, enjoying feeling its cool reality slide between her fingers.

William sighed. “Is there something you want to say to me, or are you going to pout all night?”

She set down the brush with a slight click against the glass top of the dressing table. “I don’t know what to say, William. It’s too big.”

“What does that mean, ‘it’s too big’?”

It was Addy’s turn to sigh. “Let’s just go to bed. We can talk about it in the morning.” She slid into bed, her back turned coldly toward his side. She heard him pause, considering; then he turned out the light, grabbed his coat, and went back out into the night.

Excerpt 2
On the ride home, the carriage seemed to jostle more than usual, as if shifting with the weight of the tension as it was thrown from one side of the vehicle to the other. It bumped off Addy’s scowl, brushed against Ted’s perplexed look, and alighted on Arthur’s steady stare out the window, finding nowhere stable to land.

The uneven ride stopped sooner than expected. A glance out the window showed they were stuck one block down from the Coharts’.

As the passengers waited for a signal of what was wrong, a faint acrid scent weaved through the air. Smoke. Ted banged on the carriage wall to alert the driver, then stuck his head through the tiny floral curtain and out the window. “Oh, God,” he gasped, and pulled himself back inside, dumbstruck.

Arthur was suddenly alert. “Is there a fire?” He, too, looked out, but what he saw drew him out onto the street, leaving the carriage door hanging open behind him as pedestrians darted around it. Addy started to get up. Ted grabbed her arm, but she was able to shake free. Arthur, captivated by the scene, did not notice in the first instant that Addy had run past him. When he did, he raced after her, navigating inelegantly through the gathering crowd, kicking up a swirl of dust in his wake. Halfway down the block he caught up to her, and she fell into his arms screaming as the flames consuming her family’s home lit up the night sky behind her.