Page 82 of The Witch

“Well…” I take a sip from my newly stirred drink. “Eventually. I can’t stay here forever, freeloading off my grandmother. And I don’t think Woodhaven has a lot of job opportunities.”

“Actually,” he says, “I did have a thought. About a job, I mean.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, if the museum does end up acquiring Pemberton,” he says, “we’re going to need somebody to supervise the staging of the house, building on the property, and then managing it once everything is built. I think you would be perfect.”

I assumed that if we ever sold Pemberton, I’d never return to Woodhaven. But I have to admit, this idea intrigues me. If we have to sell my family’s estate, at least this way I’ll get to continue to be part of it. “I have no experience with anything like that.”

“That’s okay. You’re more familiar with that house than anyone else. And I could show you the ropes.”

I take another bite of my burger, contemplating this offer. “I wonder how Caroline would feel about it,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“Caroline?” The left side of his lips quirk up. “Is this the ghost thing again?”

“Yes, the ghost thing again.” I shake my head. “I know you don’t believe in any of that, but trust me when I say that I have felt a presence in that house. And I’ve seen too many things I can’t explain.” I think of that flash of peacock-blue in the attic window. “I don’t know for sure that it’s Caroline Eldridge, but don’t you think there’s some unearthly presence in that house?”

He looks at me for a long time, as if weighing his words carefully. “I believe that you think so.”

“So that’s a big fat no.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s not that I’m trying to be closed-minded or anything. I just find it hard to believe that after a person dies, their spirit is just floating around.”

“So what do you think happens after you die?”

“Same thing as what happens before you’re born. You’re just…gone. You don’t exist anymore.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Does it?” He adjusts his glasses on his nose. “You know what sounds terrible to me? That you die, and instead of going into the ground and being at peace, you have to float around watching everyone you love missing you and crying over you, and not being able to interact with them or even tell them that you’re there.” His jaw twitches. “Is that really what you want to happen to you after you die? Because to me, that sounds like hell.”

I knew Henry was a skeptic, but I’m surprised by the sudden vehemence in his voice. He almost sounds angry.

“Okay,” I say. “Point taken.”

His shoulders sag. “Sorry. I just…”

He looks like he’s going to tell me something else, but then he thinks better of it. Instead, he takes another bite of his burger and chews slowly.

“You should get a DNA test,” he says.

“What?”

“A DNA test,” he repeats. “Get a sample from yourself and a sample from Ethel. A DNA test will tell you if she’s your grandmother or not without having to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions.”

“I don’t think Ethel is going to let me swab her mouth.”

“You don’t need a cheek swab,” he says. “There’s a lab we use that can get DNA samples from all sorts of crazy places. If you get me a strand of Ethel’s hair with the root intact, I’ll send out the test for you.”

He’s right. A DNA test will be the easiest way to find out the truth.

“Just grab some hair from her hairbrush.” He sticks a fry in his mouth. “You can bring it to the museum tomorrow when I give you back the bone.”

It feels like a violation to do this. But on the other hand, Ethel might have been lying to my father (and, by extension, me) for our entire lives. There are too many secrets at Pemberton, and now that we might have to give it up, I’m desperate to know the truth.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

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