Date: Saturday, September 2nd, 1922
Time: 14:04
Location: Ms. Maisy’s Marvelous Wonders
Wendy stares at the book, both hands on her cheeks as she shakes her head.
“I’m not looking at that,” she says. “I can’t believe you even took that.”
“But, Wendy,” Angela starts, readjusting her grip on the book. “This can help us. We can figure out how or why Ms. Maisy died.”
“I can’t believe you took that,” Wendy repeats. “You broke into our boss’ house, didn’t report her death, and stole a book of the occult. I just…”
Angela pulls the book back and slumps her shoulders. “When you lay it out like that…”
“Angela, think,” Wendy says, making sure to keep her voice a whisper. Both girls are in their shared bedroom, but nosiness runs in this circus family. “Ms. Maisy is dead. The police will find out. If it’s unnatural like you think, they’re going to believe it’s murder. They’ll ask the people who were close to her, who would be us, especially you. They’ll search your belongings, find that book, assume you did some witchcraft to murder her—“
“It might not play out that way.” Angela’s voice is quiet as she looks to the floor.
Wendy sighs. “Why didn’t you at least report the death?”
“I just…You know how the adults treat us. They think us fragile, that we’ll break if the truth isn’t softened first.” Angela looks up to Wendy’s eyes. “Once they find out Ms. Maisy is dead, they may shut this place down. Everyone will go their separate ways. I’ll go to a foster home. You’ll be shipped to your parents. I won’t have anything. I won’t have you, the circus, Ms. Maisy. I at least want to know why she died, before I lose the chance for good.”
“Oh, Angela.” Wendy steps forward and pulls Angela into a tight hug. “I am not leaving you. I don’t care what my parents have to say.”
“You know it’s not that easy.”
The two of them pull away. Wendy’s silent look to the floor tells Angela she’s right.
“Well, all that aside.” Wendy uprights herself. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’ve told you a million times, you don’t ask the occult about death.”
“No, no, we won’t be asking it about her death,” Angela assures her. “We’ll just look into this a little further. See what she was reading. See if maybe she was researching something that killed her. Or maybe if she died of a lost mind.”
Wendy folds her arms. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to read a book a dead person held.”
“Okay, I’ll read it. And if I have questions, I’ll ask you.”
“Angela—“
Before Wendy can go further, and before Angela can open the book, something…odd passes the window. It was just a quick flicker, as if dark shadows suddenly grew a will and decided it wanted to sit somewhere else. But Angela finds herself staring.
“Angela!”
Angela blinks back and looks to Wendy. “I’m sorry, what?”
Wendy’s eyebrows scrunch, looking deeply into Angela’s eyes, before her hands gently take the book away.
“Let’s just put this away for now,” Wendy says. “We just found out about Ms. Maisy’s death. Neither of us can think straight. We should give it time.”
Slowly, Angela nods. “Yeah,” she agrees as her eyes find the window again.
Nothing there.