Page 108 of It'll Always Be Her

She tore her gaze from the screen and squinted. Her breath caught.

There.It was barely visible—no one would notice it if they weren’t looking—but even she knew that no natural or scientific phenomenon could explain the shadow’s rhythmic movement or shimmering outline.

Millicent,she whispered inside her head.

The shadow slowed a distance from the candle. A gust of wind made the flame flicker. Bee felt Adam’s hand close around her shoulder. Tension and anticipation twisted through her.

The flame flickered again. The shadow drifted back and forth, then slowly, slowly began to approach the candle. It moved closer, circled, then dipped low as if peering into the jar.

Bee sensed Adam telling her to get ready. She pulled the metal lid out of her pocket. Her hands shook. Her breathing was quick and shallow.

What if she screwed this up? What if she hurt Millicent or scared her away? What if…?

“Go,” Adam murmured.

Her chest tight with nerves, she crept forward. A bird cawed overhead. The weathered wooden planks squeaked under her shoes. She kept her gaze fixed on the jar.

The shadow dipped lower and lower toward the mouth of the jar, pulled by the heat and energy of the fire. The light faded the shadow even more, so the only thing visible was a thin trail, like a faint breath of air on a cold day.

And then the breath slipped into the jar like a little cloud.

Bee ran forward, clamping the lid over the top as fast and as gently as she could. She screwed it on tightly. Her heart hammered as the candle flame flickered once before it was extinguished.

“Let’s go,” Adam whispered urgently.

Bee slipped the jar into her hoodie pocket, protecting it with both hands as she and Adam hurried back to the car. Neither of them spoke as they got inside, and he started the engine.

She cradled the jar, not daring to look at it or to wonder if they’d really just captured Millicent or if this was all a wild goose chase. Either way, she didn’t want to be doing this with anyone else but Adam.

He drove carefully but quickly back to the library, pulling to a hard stop next to the front porch. Bee scrambled out of the car, still holding the jar gently as they ran up the steps and inside.

“Cupola,” she said breathlessly.

Adam nodded, leading the way back up the narrow staircase. Though nothing had changed in the little room, the air felt different, as if it were charged with anticipation.

“What do we do now?” Bee pulled the jar out from her pocket and peered through the glass at the interior. The extinguished candle had broken from its moorings and was lying on its side. What did that mean for Millicent?

“Set it down and take off the lid.” Adam backed away until he was half out the door, then he took out his phone and began filming again.

Bee set the jar down next to the telescope and unscrewed the lid. She took it off quickly and hurried over to stand next to Adam. She looked at the camera screen, then the jar.

Though the room was faintly illuminated by the moon, it was darker than the boardwalk. No sign of shadows or movement, either in the room or on the camera screen.

Bee tugged on Adam’s shirtsleeve. “Let’s go.”

He frowned. “Go? Now?”

“We didn’t like it when Captain Marcus was interfering with us,” she whispered. “So he might not be thrilled about our presence either.”

“But we have to get this on camera.”

“We can do it from outside, through the windows.”

Though Adam didn’t look convinced, he followed her back downstairs. They left through the front doors and found a spot in the front garden that provided a full view of the cupola.

Although they hadn’t turned any lights on, the window-enclosed room looked strangely warm and inviting, almost like a glowing lantern.

Adam zoomed the camera in on the cupola’s interior. A chill washed through the air. Bee almost held her breath.

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