“Were you awake this whole time?” Cleo demanded.
“Just now. Standing here. I was dreaming. And I … don’t know. I don’t remember. I feel sort of out of it. Do you see the mirror? Is it real?”
“It’s real.”
With one hand in Trey’s, Sonya reached out to touch the frame. “I’m not dreaming, and we all see it.”
“Maybe”—Cleo rubbed a hand on Sonya’s back—“you woke up because we do.”
“Do you see what’s in it?”
“Mirrored glass,” Trey began. “And all of us.”
“No. No. I see…”
“Colors, movement. Light, shadows.”
With a kind of desperate relief, Sonya turned to Owen. “Yes. You see it?”
“Yeah.” He looked at Trey, at Cleo. “You don’t?”
“You’re both Pooles, we’re not.” Cleo lifted her hands. “That must be it.”
“My father saw it, Collin saw it. Maybe others, too. There are people, dancing. I hear music.”
“Way old-timey,” Owen confirmed. “Bad acoustics,” he added, “like in a tunnel. It’s getting brighter,” he added. “And the music’s louder.”
“It’s here, the ballroom, but it’s full of flowers and people. Everything shines and glistens.” Charmed, Sonya put a hand on the glass. Her fingers slid straight through. “Oh. It’s warm on the other side.”
“Sonya.” Trey took her wrist, drew her hand away.
“I’m supposed to go. It pulls at me. I need to see. It’s part of my inheritance. Do you feel it, Owen, the pull?”
“No, but I see it, and I hear it. So.” When he put his hand on the glass, it went through to the wrist. “That’s a kick in the nuts.”
After pulling his hand out, he turned it, studied it. “Still intact, and yeah, it’s warmer over there.”
Sonya gripped Trey’s hand, and Cleo’s with her other. “I’m awake. I’m aware. I need to go. I can’t explain, but I want to go. I’d rather go when I know what I’m doing, when it’s my decision, and when you’re all here.”
Trey pressed his hand to the mirror, felt only solid glass. Over Sonya’s head, he shifted his gaze to Owen’s.
“Yeah, I got it.”
Understanding, Sonya turned to him. “You don’t have to do this. It doesn’t pull at you.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Owen took her hand from Cleo’s, linked fingers. “I’ll go first.”
With a hand on Owen’s shoulder, Trey bent down to kiss Sonya. “Don’t keep me waiting long.”
“Wait. Wait. Take my charm pouch.” Digging in her pajama pocket, Cleo pulled it out, pushed it into Sonya’s. “Wait!” she said again as Owen started to step forward.
“What now? Silver bullet, wooden stake?”
She grabbed his face in her hands, kissed him. “Bring each other back.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a firm grip on Sonya’s hand, he waited for her nod.
As he stepped through the glass, she glanced back, then followed.
The mirror swallowed them.
“Oh my God, oh my God.”
Cleo pressed both hands to the glass as Yoda whined and pawed at it.
“They’re just gone. What the hell do we do now?”
Trey stared at the mirror as if willing himself to see the other side.
“We wait.”
The heartbeat from the Gold Room stilled, and silence fell over the manor.