Seventeen
“ANNA!” HELEN CALLS from the dining room early Saturday afternoon. “Can you come here for a moment?”
I’m reviewing some emails sent by people, thanking Saint Clare’s for “wonderful,” “amazing,” and “thoroughly entertaining” Fairy Tales and Frights at the Myer Mansion. A few express disappointment that the ghost of Victoria Myer did not make an appearance, but I choose to believe they’re being tongue in cheek.
But after my conversation with Father Wayne in the wake of Catherine’s—what, vision? I’m still not sure what to call her gift—of Victoria Myer, I’m a little offended by their flippant attitude.
“Yes, Helen?” Anna says as she comes out of her office and walks past mine. Curious about what’s going on, I leave my emails to go investigate.
Anna enters the dining room, where
