Because I Could Not Stop For Death | Lockwood & Co.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

— 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊

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𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 knock, the door to the house swung open.

It was a modest house, sat on a narrow lane. Mrs. Peters was their client and the culprit of the swinging door. She'd been waiting for them at the front window. Eden couldn't help but feel pity for the woman as they stood in the foyer of her home. She was young, but looked so much older due to her apparent anxiety. She had a shawl covering her head and gloves covering her hands, in which she clutched a large wooden crucifix.

"Is it there?" she asked in a whisper as soon as Eden had closed the front door behind herself and Anthony. "Is it up there?"

The auburn-haired girl knit her brow. "We've not been able to tell, Mrs. Peters," she said calmly. "We haven't gone in yet."

"From the street!" Mrs. Peters exclaimed through a hiss, eyes wide. "They say you can see it there!"

While it might have seemed like common sense to Mrs. Peters, it hadn't occurred to either Eden or Anthony that they should look through the windows as they walked up to the house. Though, now that it was brought to their attention, they did just that. In the street they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, heads tipped back to gaze through the frosty glass windows on the top floor.

Eden's eyes focused on the one to the far right. It was not lit from within—just an empty, black space. But it wasn't entirely empty. Just faintly, if she focused hard enough, the outline of a woman could be seen, standing with her back against the window.

Once again, Eden felt a strange wetness drip down the slope of her cheek. She lifted her hand and wiped it away, eyes catching sight of the same bloody residue she'd seen while speaking to Kipps with Anthony in the street before.

Still, she was sure that Anthony wasn't seeing it, and so she didn't say anything just yet.

Both agents made their way back to the front door, where Mrs. Peters was still standing in the doorway, clutching her crucifix.

Eden smiled as assuredly as she could. "Yes, it's up there."

"Nothing to worry about," Anthony informed her as the two moved past the young woman into the foyer. "We'll go up and see."

The woman whimpered. "You understand why I can't sleep easy, Mr. Lockwood?" she asked. "You understand now, don't you?"

She had followed the two toward the staircase, the crucifix clutched in her hands like a weapon. Anthony turned, his nose practically pushed against the top of the cross, as Mrs. Peters was that close to them.

"Mrs. Peters," he began, his voice soft as he pushed the object down in an easy, cautious, caring manner, "there's one thing you could do for us. Very important."