The Psychic Legacy

Chapter 7: Date

Sleep had been a good idea. Polly passed out on the couch so Ethan had shown me to the only spare 'room', a small open space in the basement. It appeared to be part-studio-part-storage, large half-finished paintings stacked against the wall, though there was a twin bed pushed into the corner. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The bed had a heavy duvet to protect from the chill of the basement and burrowing under its weight was particularly comforting. I slept soundly, unbothered by dreams for the first time in what seemed like forever.

I awoke refreshed, like Matilda's torturous exorcism was just a bad dream that was quickly fading from memory. When I made my way upstairs and found the kitchen already busy and packed.

Tory and Anja were at the table, helping themselves to the stack of pancakes from the middle of the table. They chattered away, like this was any other morning. Ethan was at the stove, wearing an orange checkered apron, making even more pancakes. And Polly was in the corner, nursing a very large mug of what looked like black coffee. She looked worse than she had last night. The wine had caught up with her.

"Morning," I said, catching myself mid-yawn.

Ethan gave me a smile and a nod. Polly just grunted.

"Oh, I know you," Anja said, perking up as she saw me. "You're Rachel, aren't you?"

"That's right," Tory said, topping up his coffee cup. "She's staying with us for a while. If that's okay."

"That should be fine," Anja said. She tapped at her temple. "They seem to like her."

I tried to smile. Should I be happy that the spirits that were attached to Anja liked me?

"Sit," Ethan said, coming up from behind me. "You should get some food in you before we get started."

That made everyone perk up—aside from Anja, of course, who had no idea what was going on. As we exchanged glances, I saw all the signs of anxiety. Tight jaws, twitchy brows. We were nervous. Our plan was tenuous, but it was all we had.

After breakfast, Ethan took his oma to get ready for an outing with her Seniors Care Group and we were left with planning the task that loomed over us like a dark cloud. The tension was back, hanging heavy around the table. Tory was staring intently at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs. Last night, he had seemed so on board for the (admittedly flimsy) plan, but now he seemed to be regretting saying yes so fast.

Polly had recovered enough that she was now nibbling on a cold pancake. "So?" she said, her voice gravelly. "Are we gonna do the thing?"

"Shouldn't we wait for Ethan?" Tory asked, nervously glancing down the hall where Ethan and Anja had disappeared.

"Does Ethan really need to be here to make a phone call?" Polly snapped.

"Do you?" Tory shot back.

"Maybe if you be trusted not to fuck it up—"

"Cut it out!" I shouted, chopping my hand down between them. "Bickering isn't going to solve anything. And neither is procrastinating, Tory."

"The sooner you start, the sooner it's over," Polly said, almost sing-song this time.

"Fine! Fine," Tory said. "I'll do it."

He pulled out his phone

I watched over his shoulder as he pulled up his contacts. Under 'Favorites' Luc's name topped the list, even over Ethan's. I frowned at that. Kid was either a workaholic or had some iffy boundaries.

Tory took a deep breath and jabbed at Luc's name. The call started. As it began to ring, I felt a shiver of electricity move over my skin. It had only been a few days since I had last heard him speak, but it seemed like forever.