The Dead Girls of Hysteria Hall

 

I had kept the incinerator from exploding, but the house was still going to burn to the ground. And I could only presume that at that very moment the faulty chimney was leaking toxic fumes into the room where my parents had been, not to mention the halls and back passages they would most definitely navigate in their search for my sister.

 

“Eliza!” I called. “Come help!”

 

I went to Janie’s side, intending to help her, but when I reached her, no matter how I tried, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t lift her or drag her upstairs. I couldn’t touch the door or unlock it or open it.

 

“What’s going on?!” I cried. “What’s the point of this if I can’t help her? What’s the point of any of it?”

 

“You’re not meant to help her,” Eliza said, her voice low and firm. “I’m sorry, Delia, but this is outside of your influence.”

 

I stared at her in horror. How could she be so calm? “But my sister’s going to die!”

 

“Well, if she does,” she replied, “you’ve ensured that she won’t be stuck here, in the house. And that’s enough.”

 

“That’s not enough!” I shouted. “I’m not going to float around here and watch my sister die! That was the whole point!”

 

Eliza stood in front of me and took hold of my arms. It didn’t feel like being held by another person but rather like being locked into place by an immovable force. “If it were your business to save your sister’s life, you wouldn’t be here,” she said. “Do you understand? There’s a plan, Delia. Everyone has a place in it. And you’ve done your part. There’s nothing else you can do.”

 

“Impossible,” I said. “I’ll go get my parents—”

 

“They can’t see you,” she said. “Or hear you. I’m telling you. Everything you were intended to accomplish has been done.”

 

The absolute nonnegotiability of what she was saying rang too true for me to bother debating.

 

Her mouth turned down in a frown. “I’m very sorry, truly. I know you like to change things, but you won’t change this. You’ve got to accept it.”

 

“You don’t know that,” I said. “How could you know that?”

 

“I know it,” she said. “If you’d stand still for a minute, you’d know it, too.”

 

But I couldn’t stand still and let some mythical veil of knowledge slowly descend over me. Not while my family was in danger.

 

Being at one with the universe would just have to wait.

 

Janie coughed as she reached the top of the stairs, then stretched up toward the doorknob and tried to turn it—but it wouldn’t turn. The bolt was locked. She started to get to her feet but had to duck down to take another huge gasp of air.

 

I reached for the bolt, but even as I did so, I knew it was pointless.

 

My sister gagged and doubled over, trying desperately to get another breath, enough air to sustain herself.

 

It didn’t work.

 

She went limp, slumping unconsciously against the door.

 

“Oh my God,” I said.

 

“You needn’t worry,” Eliza said. “She won’t suffer.”

 

So was this really how it was supposed to be? After everything that had happened—was my sister really supposed to die?

 

And yet, standing there with my heart slowly breaking, I did feel the beginning of the peace Eliza had hinted at—a feeling that what would happen now must happen.

 

Suddenly, a figure appeared through the door, interrupting my reverie—Penitence.

 

I’d never been so glad to see a ghost before.

 

She unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open.

 

“Come on!” she called into the hallway.

 

Maria appeared behind her mother. “Where is she? Where’s Delia?”

 

“Child, we haven’t time to think about that. Help me.”

 

Then a nurse appeared at the doorway, the grouchy one I’d encountered in the kitchen so long ago—she was the Nurse Carlson who’d been kind to Maria.

 

Now she looked gentle and industrious as she, Penitence, and Maria surrounded my sister, trying to lift her. They were able to get her up and into the hall—but just barely. And each of them was significantly paler for the effort.

 

“You’re too weak,” said a voice from below.

 

Penitence turned to look down at Florence, who remained trapped in her circle of salt.

 

“You’re not strong ghosts, any of you,” Florence said. “You won’t be able to carry her. But I could help you.”

 

“No, thank you!” Penitence snapped.

 

They bent once again to try to lift my sister. This time, they failed to get her off the ground.

 

“I’m tellin’ you,” Florence said. “I’ll help.”

 

“You’ve already tried to kill her,” Penitence said. “Why should we trust you?”

 

“Because what choice do you have? And what could I possibly do now?” Florence’s voice shrank. “Maybe this is my last chance to do something good. I’d like the chance to do something good.”