"Hello, Emme."
"Hello, Melisande,” she responded in the same level tone. “What brings you here today?"
Her smile faltered, and for a moment looked very grown up and very, very sad. “I am not here today. I am here every day. It has been that way since I died."
Emme felt a rush of sympathy for the girl, trapped as she was between two worlds, and so very alone. “That must be very difficult for you. Do you wish to leave Briarwood?"
Melisande met her gaze with a steady one of her own. “I wish for many things. Mostly I wish for my brother to be happy. I wish for Michael to let go of the past. And I do wish to leave here, when everyone else is safe."
"What is it that you want of me today?” Emme asked her.
"Now, that is a much more direct question,” the child said, with a sardonic smile that mirrored her brother's. “Did Michael tell you how I died?"
Emme shook her head. “No, I don't think he likes to talk about it. He did tell me that he loved you very much."
The girl considered this for a moment. “He might have, if I had grown up. He loves a memory. And he feels guilty because he did not save me."
The tragedy, he had called it.
"He was a child,” Emme said, “how could he have saved you?"
The child rose and began to pace back and forth in front of her on the path. She still looked real and solid, but the light appeared different around her. It shimmered around her, rather than settled on her, much like staring into the distance on a hot summer's day. “He couldn't have. But still he blames himself. It's because he was the one who found me. There in the woods, just beyond the garden."
The words poured out of her then, horrible and so very vivid. “He cried so very hard, and was so frightened. He wanted to go for help, but I wouldn't let him. I knew that it was too late, that I couldn't be helped and I was so afraid to be alone."
Emme's skin prickled and she felt cold all the way through to her bones, in spite of the warmth of the day. “What happened to you?"
Melisande stopped her pacing and turned to face her. “That is why you're here, Emme. Until my murderer is found, Michael cannot be free."
"What of Rhys, Melisande? What of Elise?"
Melisande leveled a look at her that implied she lacked in intelligence. “There is only one killer, Emme. And I wasn't the only one. Elise died at the same hands for very different reasons."
Emme asked no more questions for Melisande disappeared. There was no puff of smoke or any other sign of warning. One second she was there and the next she was simply gone.
Emme sighed and tilted her head back, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion. She wanted answers, and she wanted, perhaps for the first time in her life, to prove that her abilities were real. It had become important, at some point along the way, for Rhys to believe in her and that was enough to terrify her.
Aware that the sky was darkening, Emme knew it was time to return to the house. It was not so late in the day, which could only mean that bad weather was coming in. She stood and began the short walk back to the house, contemplating what the ghost child had told her. Melisande and Elise were killed by the same person, but why, she wondered? What was the connection between the two? Melisande had been dead for better than a decade before Elise even came to Briarwood Hall.
Emme was deep in thought, pondering these connections, when she heard it. It was a soft rustle in the trees beside the path, but the sound was out of place, as was the absolute stillness that followed it. She knew instantly that someone was watching her. She didn't pause, neither did she hurry; keeping her pace steady, she continued moving toward the house.
Somehow she knew that alerting the unknown person that she was aware of his or her presence was the last thing she should do. After several seconds there was another rustle, and the distinct crunch of gravel as someone stepped out onto the path. There was a curve in the path ahead, and once she rounded the curve, Emme began to run. It was unladylike, and her hostess would undoubtedly be scandalized, but she didn't care. If the person wasn't following her, they would simply continue on at their sedate pace and never know she had run away like a fool. But if they were following her, by the time they rounded the bend and realized she'd quickened her pace, she would be back in sight of the house.
Emme was close to the break in the trees that would lead her back out onto the lawn when she heard thrashing behind her. It was closer than she would have liked. Though her sides were aching and her feet were on fire from running in her dainty slippers, she managed a small burst of speed that had her stumbling out onto the lawn.
The thrashing behind her stopped abruptly, and she looked up to see Lord Ellersleigh and Rhys standing on the terrace eyeing her curiously. She took a deep breath, straightened her skirts and made her way toward the house via the library, on the opposite end of the terrace from where the two men stood. She nodded at them politely as she passed by, though her heart still thundered in her chest and her knees were trembling violently.