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“I always do enjoy killing you,” Edgar growls into Lisa’s, Olivia’s, ear. His hand is tangled in her hair, and Lisa knows that he plans to throw her over the border of the property. She recalls what he’d said only moments earlier: ”Your home is gone. Your time is gone. There’s nothing left for you now but oblivion. A fate worse than death.” She shrieks as he hauls her forward, but a crack of thunder stops Edgar in his tracks.
There she is. Frances. She’s standing there, stone-faced, in their path. Each flicker of lightning overhead reveals her for what she truly is: a spirit come for vengeance. For justice. Lisa tears herself from Edgar’s grasp and stands back as Frances steps closer, joined by all of Edgar’s other victims. It worked. Lisa’d gotten through to them, connecting with them the same way she’d connected with Frances — the same way Olivia had connected with her. Every trophy Edgar had kept was now an instrument of his undoing.
The ghosts swirl and surround him, an ever-tightening circle until he has nowhere to go. Even his parents are there. His very first victims. They rip him from Olivia’s father’s body, and Lisa gives him the courtesy of a single goodbye before returning to Olivia. Her father is sprawled on the rainsoaked grass, and he looks up at her, at them, with a confused “Olivia? What happened?”
Once they’ve gotten Olivia’s mother and sister back in the house and into bed to sleep off the chloroform, Lisa dumps the bottle down the drain, then looks at Olivia’s reflection in the mirror. She has no idea if she can hear her, but she says it anyway:
“Have a nice life, Olivia.”
It’s a promise and a reassurance in one. Edgar is gone now, which means Olivia’s father won’t be doing anything dangerous, and their whole family has a full, long life ahead of them, together. If there’s a hint of jealousy in her tone, Lisa refuses to acknowledge it.
She has no idea what’s waiting for her when she stops possessing Olivia. She isn’t even sure she knows how to stop on her own. She’s only ever stopped by circumstance before. And once it’s done, what then? Is Edgar right? Will she vanish into oblivion, now that he isn’t anchoring her to her own home, her own time, for his own sick pleasure? And if not… the best case scenario is that she’s back in her own house, by herself. Her family moved on. She watched them go, and chose to stay behind to help Olivia. She’ll be alone. That might be just as scary.
Despite the uncertainty and the anxiety that lingers with it, the strain of the day catches up to her and to Olivia’s exhausted body, and Lisa sleeps.
When she wakes, she’s not in Olivia’s bed anymore. The first thing she feels is relief. She’s still here. She’s still somewhere, anyway, she still exists. And then she realizes she isn’t in her bed, either. She’s on the floor, where her bed is meant to be. Her carpeting is rough under her, catching on the knit of her sweater as she rolls over.
Her sweater. She isn’t wearing Olivia’s pajamas, or her own. She’s wearing the clothes she’d worn the day she died. Lisa sits up with a gasp, looking around, eyebrows pinching. Her room is empty. Her posters are gone. Her bed and nightstand are gone. No alarm clock. No walkie-talkie.
“Mom?” she whispers, the instinct bubbling up inside of her. She pushes to her feet and steps out of the bedroom. “Dad? Robbie?” She’s even got her Chucks on, her Walk-man hanging on her hip as she walks, then runs, through the quiet and empty house.
There are no paintings hung on the walls. No hall tables. No phones. Her couch and the TV are gone. The dining room table that had held dozens of the exact same meal, gone. Lisa stands, feeling lost and afraid, breath trembling as she stares now at the broad front door. She has no idea what to expect on the other side. Will it be a wall of fog? Will her parents be there?
Lisa steps closer, fingers curling around the knob. When she pulls the door open, it’s to a lawn overlooking a cul de sac, just like the one the house had been built on. Across the way, she can see empty lots with giant 'COMING SOON' signs by the edge of the properties. It's not anything like the houses she'd seen outside of Olivia's house, or the ones she remembers from before. She stops, looking up at the clear sky. There’s no fog pushing in against the yard. The sun is up and bright, though she can’t feel its warmth on her skin. She steps out onto the stoop, then down to the lawn.
This isn’t her street. Where the hell is she?
[ Lisa doesn't know she can leave the property, so her debut is a little different! Come check out the new brick Georgian in the new cul de sac and say hi to the new resident ghosty! ]
There she is. Frances. She’s standing there, stone-faced, in their path. Each flicker of lightning overhead reveals her for what she truly is: a spirit come for vengeance. For justice. Lisa tears herself from Edgar’s grasp and stands back as Frances steps closer, joined by all of Edgar’s other victims. It worked. Lisa’d gotten through to them, connecting with them the same way she’d connected with Frances — the same way Olivia had connected with her. Every trophy Edgar had kept was now an instrument of his undoing.
The ghosts swirl and surround him, an ever-tightening circle until he has nowhere to go. Even his parents are there. His very first victims. They rip him from Olivia’s father’s body, and Lisa gives him the courtesy of a single goodbye before returning to Olivia. Her father is sprawled on the rainsoaked grass, and he looks up at her, at them, with a confused “Olivia? What happened?”
Once they’ve gotten Olivia’s mother and sister back in the house and into bed to sleep off the chloroform, Lisa dumps the bottle down the drain, then looks at Olivia’s reflection in the mirror. She has no idea if she can hear her, but she says it anyway:
“Have a nice life, Olivia.”
It’s a promise and a reassurance in one. Edgar is gone now, which means Olivia’s father won’t be doing anything dangerous, and their whole family has a full, long life ahead of them, together. If there’s a hint of jealousy in her tone, Lisa refuses to acknowledge it.
She has no idea what’s waiting for her when she stops possessing Olivia. She isn’t even sure she knows how to stop on her own. She’s only ever stopped by circumstance before. And once it’s done, what then? Is Edgar right? Will she vanish into oblivion, now that he isn’t anchoring her to her own home, her own time, for his own sick pleasure? And if not… the best case scenario is that she’s back in her own house, by herself. Her family moved on. She watched them go, and chose to stay behind to help Olivia. She’ll be alone. That might be just as scary.
Despite the uncertainty and the anxiety that lingers with it, the strain of the day catches up to her and to Olivia’s exhausted body, and Lisa sleeps.
When she wakes, she’s not in Olivia’s bed anymore. The first thing she feels is relief. She’s still here. She’s still somewhere, anyway, she still exists. And then she realizes she isn’t in her bed, either. She’s on the floor, where her bed is meant to be. Her carpeting is rough under her, catching on the knit of her sweater as she rolls over.
Her sweater. She isn’t wearing Olivia’s pajamas, or her own. She’s wearing the clothes she’d worn the day she died. Lisa sits up with a gasp, looking around, eyebrows pinching. Her room is empty. Her posters are gone. Her bed and nightstand are gone. No alarm clock. No walkie-talkie.
“Mom?” she whispers, the instinct bubbling up inside of her. She pushes to her feet and steps out of the bedroom. “Dad? Robbie?” She’s even got her Chucks on, her Walk-man hanging on her hip as she walks, then runs, through the quiet and empty house.
There are no paintings hung on the walls. No hall tables. No phones. Her couch and the TV are gone. The dining room table that had held dozens of the exact same meal, gone. Lisa stands, feeling lost and afraid, breath trembling as she stares now at the broad front door. She has no idea what to expect on the other side. Will it be a wall of fog? Will her parents be there?
Lisa steps closer, fingers curling around the knob. When she pulls the door open, it’s to a lawn overlooking a cul de sac, just like the one the house had been built on. Across the way, she can see empty lots with giant 'COMING SOON' signs by the edge of the properties. It's not anything like the houses she'd seen outside of Olivia's house, or the ones she remembers from before. She stops, looking up at the clear sky. There’s no fog pushing in against the yard. The sun is up and bright, though she can’t feel its warmth on her skin. She steps out onto the stoop, then down to the lawn.
This isn’t her street. Where the hell is she?
[ Lisa doesn't know she can leave the property, so her debut is a little different! Come check out the new brick Georgian in the new cul de sac and say hi to the new resident ghosty! ]

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She cuts herself off quickly. There's no need to assume anything, particularly when she saw firsthand how a ghost can build a family from the living. Even if Lisa does hail from an entire family of ghosts, it's rather academic at this point, and Norah does not relish trying to explain that to a confused little girl, ghost or not.
"From what I understand," she says slowly, "they should be as you left them. Your house, too. The city only seems to take individuals. You and I are quite unusual in coming along with our dwellings. And... well, the city may send you back, at some time. It is impossible to predict its... humors." She grimaces faintly, a mere flicker of an expression. "And from what I understand, if you are sent back, it will be at the moment you left. As if nothing had happened. I cannot say how much of this is theory and how much is true, but..." She shrugs a bit helplessly. "It's what I have to offer. I'm sorry."
This feels like too much, too much for a child of any persuasion, and she hastens to add, "There are many of us here, though. Some ghosts and many people your age. We may have been taken from home and family, but... we do not have to be alone here."
That is rather rich coming from her, but she tries to sound convinced for Lisa's benefit.
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What matters more now is that Norah is answering a lot of questions at once, before Lisa has to really ask them, and she tries to take it in. She closes her eyes and shakes her head — not because she doesn't believe her, but as if the action can settle things into place in her head.
"So... now what?" she asks. "I'm just. Here?" Alone? She stops herself from saying it, because Norah's just told her she doesn't have to be. But how can that be possible, when she can't leave her yard and she doesn't know... anything?
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Instead, she says, "Yes." She looks at the girl, then at her house, considering. "I assumed Darrow brought my dwelling along with me because I was tethered to it. Without it, I could not exist. But then, one day, I simply left." She looks back at Lisa. "Have you ever been able to leave yours?"
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She shakes her head.
"No," she says, eyes flicking back to Norah's now. "No, I haven't."
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But she remembers her own arrival all too well. She remembers questions from the first few she met, if she might be able to leave her Observatory, and she'd dismissed them all with some exasperation. She knew herself best, she thought; she knew her home best.
When it turned out to not be so, it had been an accident of her own making. If Lisa's apparent unease is anything to go by, her own attempts to leave this place might have been unpleasant. And Norah can't even be certain anything will have changed. Darrow is fickle in its own rules, after all.
So she stays put and simply nods. "Well," she says, "then if you like, I shall visit you again." She remembers John acquiring her welcome packet on her behalf, bringing her books, Marcus bringing along music. "Or I could bring you something. Books, or... something." The packet, at least, though she's not sure how to explain that just now.
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"That... that'd be nice, actually," she says. "Thanks. You can... I mean, it's not like I'm probably going to sleep, right? So... whenever you're, like... free." She winces a little, aware that she's sounding like a total idiot.
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"I don't have to leave just yet," she offers. "If you'd prefer company now."
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