Page 72 of Beneath the Poet's House

Saoirse looks up to see Lucretia and Roberto. Beyond them is Mia with rope and a flashlight. Her vision remains stained and murky, but it’s not from the darkness anymore. It’s from tears of gratitude for her friends.

Mia throws down the rope, and Saoirse navigates up the demolished staircase. At the top, she’s still four feet below the frame of the trapdoor. Mia has tied the rope to something farther down the hall. She grabs Lucretia by the waist, and Roberto grabs Mia. The three of them lean forward until Lucretia’s hand is a few inches away from Saoirse’s. Using the rope to anchor herself, Saoirse reaches up for Lucretia’s hand. Their fingers touch, then their palms, then Lucretia is grasping Saoirsewith surprising strength, the many rings on her fingers digging into Saoirse’s flesh.

“Jump!” Lucretia yells, at the same moment the rubble beneath Saoirse starts to tremble. She sucks in a breath, releases the rope, and jumps.

Lucretia pulls Saoirse up with the help of Mia and Roberto behind her. Saoirse dangles below the frame and over the precipice. Roberto reaches down and grasps her other hand, and he and Lucretia pull Saoirse up. They use even more force than is necessary, and Saoirse lands on top of them in a heap. They lie there, gasping and shaking, until Mia pulls Saoirse up and props her against the wall. She looks Saoirse over like a worried mother.

“Where are you hurt? What do you need?” she asks.

Saoirse closes her eyes, smiles, and shakes her head. “I’m okay. For now. But I had a heart attack. I need to get to a hospital.”

Gently, Roberto takes Saoirse’s chin in his hand and lifts her face so she’s looking up at him. “Sersh,” he says. “Where is Emmit? Do we need to worry about him appearing at any moment and causing mayhem?”

Saoirse closes her eyes again. “He ... he tried to kill me. We struggled. I pushed him, and he fell into this space within the wall. An alcove.” She looks at Mia, then at Lucretia. “He had Pluto’s insulin. When I pushed him ...” She trails off, eyes glazing over, then refocuses on her friends. “He fell on the syringe. He was out of it but still trying to come after me. I dragged a board over and fitted it into the wall so he couldn’t get out.”

Saoirse keeps looking from one pair of shocked, wide eyes to another. “When I left, he was sobbing. Begging me not to leave him.” She looks down, then back up. Her eyes are hard and her jaw is set. “At least, that’s what I’m going to tell the police. I’ll tell you the real story later, when this whole thing is over.”

Mia, Lucretia, and Roberto exchange glances. Lucretia shrugs. Mia nods.

Saoirse sags against the wall. “Thank you. For holding the séance. For looking for me. It made all the difference.”

“It was Mia,” Lucretia says. “Roberto and I wanted to go to the police. But Mia said they wouldn’t believe us, that Emmit would be too charming, have everything too buttoned up, if they questioned him.” She helps Saoirse sit up a little more. “She insisted we hold the séances. When you heard us? That was our third one. As soon as you said ‘the Shunned House,’ we came right here.” She glances from Mia to Roberto. “Thank god we’re all such nerds, and we knew exactly what you were referring to.”

Saoirse looks to Mia. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I guess the hypervigilant-bordering-on-paranoid opinion of someone who’s been burned wasn’t so bad, after all.”

Mia smiles. “I guess not,” she says. “And you’re welcome. Those who’ve been hurt by the Emmit Powells of the world have to stick together.” Mia pauses and tilts her head. “And, you know, despite Lucretia saying it was all me, someone else was looking for you. He came to your door before we went downstairs for the final séance. Aidan something? He told us he was worried about you, that he’d tried to talk with you a few days ago but got thrown out by a guy whom he’d seen lurking around your house earlier that evening.”

“Aidan was ...worriedabout me?” Saoirse says, then thinks,That doesn’t make sense.And,of course,Emmit was lurking outside my house.She drops her head into her hands.

“We told him we knew all about the lurker and were on our way to do something about it that very minute,” Lucretia says. “He seemed really concerned. Who is he?”

Saoirse lifts her head. “Someone from another life,” she says. “And a story for another day.” This whole time, had she misjudged Aidan? Misconstrued why he wanted to speak with her? Either way, she was going to find out. No more running. After catacombs and screaming foxes and being buried alive, facing questions from Jonathan’s friend didn’t seem that bad.

A moment passes in which no one speaks, then Roberto says, “We need to get out of here. I’m going out to the street to flag down a car, get them to call 911.”

Saoirse reaches out, frantic. “No, don’t leave. Don’t any one of you leave me. We can call them from here.”

The three exchange a look again.

“What?” Saoirse says. “What is it?”

“It’s just that, we commune with the earth, remember?” Roberto says.

“Huh?”

“We’re one with nature,” Mia adds.

Saoirse gives her a blank stare.

“We don’t have a cell phone with us,” Lucretia says finally.

Saoirse looks from one face to another, at their kind, worried, ultimately relieved expressions, and bursts out laughing. “Right,” she says. “Of course. Well, I guess we better get out and hail that car, then.” She pauses, trying—and failing—to summon the energy to stand. “Can one of you help me up?”

“Ofcourse,” Lucretia says, placing emphasis on the final word like a disgruntled teenager. She scrambles up at the same time as Roberto. “Comeon, Saoirse. We’re transcendentalists, not monsters.”

Epilogue

The pot of Earl Grey sends notes of honey and bergamot swirling through the sunbeam-streaked air of the kitchen. Saoirse is arranging cups and saucers beside a sugar bowl and creamer on a decorative wooden tray when the telephone rings. She smiles when she sees who’s calling.

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