Page 50 of The Wishing Game

"You humans have such diseases?" Thea blinks in surprise.

"Welcome to being human," I mumble under my breath.

"An accidental death doesn't seem like prime material for a haunting," Thea continues, picking another newsletter slip from the table. "Look here. She didn't even die at the theatre. She died in Paris. That makes it even more unlikely for a haunting."

Her brows furrow as she peruses article after article, seemingly searching for something.

"Why?" I ask.

"Spirits usually remain tied to the place where they died."

"You forget one thing, Thea," Cer interrupts. "Spirits can also cling to objects they prized during their life."

"What about people?" I suddenly ask.

Cer shrugs. "Could be. Spirits are fickle. When a soul exits the body, it's usually very confused and cannot remember too well what happened during its life. A messenger intervenes at that point and leads them quietly to P'asala. But there are times when the spirit becomes obsessed with something. It could be a place, an object, a person...a feeling. That obsession is what usually prompts a spirit to go rogue."

I nod slowly. His explanation makes more sense than Thea's. But it also opens the door for more questions. Is Nikki trapped in between realms because he can't let go of me? Is he still by my side because I'm the object of his obsession? And if so, what would I do? Would I try to help him cross over, or would I feign ignorance and keep him by my side? A cynical smile twists my lips. The former question is moot because no matter how much I'd like to think of myself as ethical and virtuous, my husband is where I draw the line.

"Maybe there's something at the theatre that keeps Olive there. She was part of the Ziegfeld Follies, and one of their shows, Midnight Frolic, was staged at the New Amsterdam Theatre. It says here she was also having an affair with Ziegfeld, the show's impresario."

Thea and Cer share a long look, and once more I get the feeling that they're communicating without words.

"I tried to find out more about Miss Thomas, but given that this happened more than a century ago, there aren't a lot of details," Cer adds. "That means we've got to do this the old-fashioned way."

"Old-fashioned way?" I frown, while Thea releases a loud squeak.

"That should be a lot of fun!" she exclaims excitedly—but at this point, what is shenotexcited about?

"Wait a moment. What are we talking about?"

"We need to catch Miss Thomas and interrogate her. With her age, she should have cognitive abilities. Once we know what's keeping her here, we can resolve the issue and help her move on," Cer explains matter-of-factly.

"And how does one go aboutcatchinga ghost?" I ask drily. "Do we need some crucifixes and holy water?"

"What? No!" Thea's eyes widen. "You humans and your silly tales." She waves her hand around, shaking her head.

My lips flatten in a thin line as I barely stop myself from commenting on her use ofhumans.I know she doesn't mean it, but it comes across as a little condescending.

"The first step is to get her to appear before us. After that, Cer will trap her and we can chat. She's an actress. I'm sure she'll love to talk about herself."

"Uhm..." I look back and forth between the two of them, wondering how the hell we're going to pull this off. "And if she'snotcooperative?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Thea shrugs. As she leans in, she whispers, "Pun intended." She waits a second before she starts giggling. Wherever she heard that line, she's definitely taken it upon herself to include it in her daily vocabulary.

With a plan in mind—or thesemblanceof one—we pay the bill and head to the theatre for the start of the musical.

The theatre's hallway is filled with framed pictures of influential people from the history of the theatre. Walking around, I catalog all the images, half in awe at stepping inside such a historically rich venue, but mostly attentive for any potential clue.

"That's her." I point to one of the frames. The picture is in black and white, and Olive is wearing a French-style fur ensemble.

"I don't think anyone has a problem with her ghost," Thea adds as she catches up with us. I turn slightly. I hadn't even realized she'd remained behind.

"What do you mean?"

"All the people at the entrance were talking about the ghost and were excited about potentially seeing her. Even the person at the ticket booth was joking about it, saying she's been around for decades. He was instructing men—apparently, she's partial to men—to greet her and blow her a kiss."

"Hmm," Cer grunts, his eyes narrowing as he looks around.

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