Edith and I had spent more of the night on the gazebo, alternating between her telling me everything there was to know about her life (some of which I had already heard about from the historical society, but a lot of which was new information, all of which would be again lost to history with me), cuddling, and the occasional make-out session underneath the cover of relative darkness in the backyard. We must have finally fallen asleep outside, or at least I did - hopefully Edith made it back inside so that her time in the gazebo wouldn’t cause a stir. All I know is that what seemed like suddenly, I was waking up on the grass in my backyard, the sun shining above me, and Duke lying by my feet. When I stirred, Duke turned to look at me, wagging his tail lightly, as though he was nervous about my sudden appearance again. That made sense to me - even dogs understood that you didn’t just appear and disappear out of thin air, and at least to me, that’s what it felt like I was doing.

I looked up at him, lightly patted his backside, then laid my head back down on the ground. I needed to think - I wasn’t exactly sure what time it was in Edith’s life, but given the fact that it sounded like she was getting more and more involved in the suffragette movement, and the fact that it sounded like she’d owned the house for quite some time, I had to assume that we were getting toward the end of her life. I was hoping that the knowledge of her past would let me get to know her better, but instead, it just created a ticking clock on whatever sort of relationship we had. It wouldn’t be as bad if it was just a casual fling, but I could already tell that I was getting in way too deep for that. I already missed her, for god’s sake, and I had just been there what felt like minutes ago. That was going to be a problem that I would have to solve soon, and I was not looking forward to that prospect.

I sat up, trying to come up with some sort of half-brained solution. I suppose I could just totally ghost - not go back at all, and if I see any ghost activity in the house, do whatever I could to stay awake. But I knew that wouldn’t work - besides the fact that she occasionally was able to put me to sleep instantaneously, I knew that I wouldn’t have the willpower to go through with it. And that didn’t account for the fact of what I’d do the first time I thought of her hips, moving in sync with mine to create a perfect harmony of desire. I felt my cock start to engorge just at the passing thought, and I knew that if I was hardly able to contain myself when I was sober, there was no way I would be able to hold off if I was full-on horny. Everyone knows that you aren't able to think rationally whenever your blood rushes to your dick.

Maybe I could tell her about it? I wasn’t conceited enough to believe that I had the power to change what happened in the past, but maybe in this ghost world, it’s not a 100% accurate portrayal of what was going on. I highly doubt there was a man coming from the future to ravish her, for instance, I thought.

My cock rubbed on the front of my pants, and I could feel the zipper despite the layer of clothing in between. I couldn’t help it - as we hadn’t gone that far last night, I had plenty of energy stored up from all the make-out sessions. But I wasn’t about to take care of that out here - I might have lived outside of town, but it wasn’t nearly as far out of town as it had been in Edith’s time. I had neighbors, and they had children, and it would probably ruin my relationship with Edith if I was locked up for the rest of it.

I picked myself up and headed inside. For some reason, there was a somewhat fruity scent in the air that day. I couldn’t quite place it, but I knew that it shouldn’t have been there - I wasn’t much of one for scented candles or the like. I half-heartedly thought about trying to figure out what was causing it, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to figure anything out until the point of post-nut clarity. I walked up the steps, already knowing that I was going to go to my room. Of course, I would - it offered all the privacy of being in my own space, plus it was where I had all of my best memories of Edith. Don’t get me wrong - last night was great, and I adored talking with her, but there was no way that it compared to the first time she ravenously enveloped my cock.

I closed the door behind me, shutting out a very sad Duke, pulled off my pants, and sat down on the edge of my bed. I started working, imagining that the rough nature of my hand was the softness of Edith’s flesh. I closed my eyes, feeling the exotic bliss of the memory, thinking that it almost felt too good to be true.

Wait. It did feel too good to be true. I pulled my hand back, stopping the movement, but I still felt something caressing the hard shaft of my cock. It wasn’t the same feeling - it was significantly softer than my hand had been, and there was a distinct chill that went along with the sensation of touch. I opened my eyes, but I only saw a blank room in front of me. When I looked down at my cock, though, it was moving rhythmically, in sync with the sensation, almost as though another hand had taken hold of my hard member.

“Edith?” I asked, both hoping it was her and fearing it was something else. As much as I’d be fine with a ghost hand job, I assumed that if there were ghostly things that I didn’t know about, there were probably other mythical creatures that I didn’t know about, either. But I was only up for one world-shaping event at a time - ghosts could be real, but everything else was going to have to wait in line for me to get used to that reality.

“Hey, handsome,” purred back a voice, and I relaxed with relief when I recognized Edith. Why she was in her room this late in the morning, I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t about to complain one bit.

“You know, you’re supposed to let a guy know before you take over his hand jobs, especially if the other party is unable to see you,” I complained jokingly. I leaned back on the bed, no longer paying attention to anything around me other than Edith and the sensations she was creating.

“See, I would, but I figured you’d be okay with it just this once,” she purred. I felt her fingers travel to the end of my shaft, then rake down my balls, her fingernails lightly scratching as she moved. “After all, I feel like I’ve earned the right to say that I own these.” She continued to run her fingers to the other side of my balls, then lightly held them in her hand, creating just the right amount of pressure to make it amazing.

I groaned, losing myself in the sensations she was creating. “You’re right, you’ve earned the right to own every part of me.”

“And I intend to take full advantage of the right for as long as I’m able to.” I sensed more than felt the fact that she was sliding close to me on the bed as her hand went back to my rock-hard cock. There was no weight to her, and the bed didn’t shift at all, but the cold sense came back stronger than ever, running all down my left side and ending at my ear. My ear felt the most cold of all, and I felt a slight tug on it. I realized that she was nibbling on my ear as well, and I almost lost it, but I somehow managed to keep it together. “And every chance I get, I’m going to rub, or suck, or fuck this dick. I’m going to use you like my personal plaything.” Her words vibrated in my ear, somehow hitting the core of my soul. Her hand movement froze for a moment, and then I felt a tight pressure on my shaft, as though she were gripping it. “Someone seems ready to come, I see,” she purred expectantly. “Well come on, then, I want to feel it all over me.”

It felt like she knew my exact triggers - I exploded, my seed shooting onto my shirt. I gasped, not fully able to process what was happening, and I heard a small giggle from beside me. “Very good,” she purred again.

We lay there in silence for a while, and I was only sure that she was still by my side because of the chill that radiated off her. I knew she most likely had to go - I’m sure she had more important things to worry about that day than me - but yet she stayed until I stood up to get a tissue to clean myself off. I wiped the mess off my chest, and even though I could still feel her presence, it seemed like there was a sort of quiet chill that swallowed up the room. I pulled my pants back on and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. After what felt like years, I finally heard her voice again. “Are you alright? You seem off. Did you not want my help with that?”

“No, no, that was great,” I reassured her. “I’ve just got some stuff on my mind since yesterday.”

“What sort of stuff?” I turned toward where her voice was coming from, and I could have sworn that I saw a faint outline of a person, almost like there was a shadow that had come to life, and decided to lay by me on the bed. I was sure it was just a result of my focus on her, though - I hadn’t seen anything but a glimpse of shoes this whole time, so there was no way she was going to just start appearing as a shadow person now.

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” I asked her, staring into the shadow that I assumed was her. “It’s kind of an unwritten rule of time travel shows in the future that you don’t talk about the past with people from the past.”

“And what does that matter? Those people aren’t here with me, trying to figure this out. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t think that anything we’re doing is particularly typical.”

“That’s true, it’s just,” I started, hesitating, trying to make a decision, “you died, and I don’t know what’s going to happen then.”

Edith paused for a while, her shadow looking contemplative. “So, I’m not entirely sure what the problem is with that,” she started carefully. “Did you not realize that happened at some point? My time is almost a century before yours, and I’m already the oldest person in this house. I’m probably older than you are now, even. And death comes for us all in time - were you surprised that you weren’t talking to a centenarian?”

“No, no, I understood that it’s just…Can I ask what year it is?”

“It’s 1924. I assume you have an exact year for it, then?” I paused, letting that information wash over me. It was the same year that Edith died, meaning that it could happen any day now. I knew it was going to be soon, but I was hoping for at least a little more time to be able to process what was happening. Edith understood my long pause, and I saw the shadow nod its head. “Ahh, it’s soon, then.”

“Do you want to know more about it?”

“No, I don’t think I should. It’d be a waste to spoil one of life’s greatest mysteries for me.” She sighed and rolled onto her back. I reached up to run my fingers through her hair, feeling the ice-cold chill of her, but also, it seemed like there was some resistance to it that had not been there before. “The only issue is that I assume that doesn’t leave us much time together, and who knows what will happen then.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I leaned over to kiss her cheek, again feeling some sort of resistance. It was a strange sensation - as though she was there, but had just been pulled out of a bucket of ice. And while I was grateful to be able to feel her skin on mine no matter the temperature, there was a part of me that knew that that would make her death all that much more real. “I was trying to figure out if you’d just cease to exist, or if you’d start your loop over again. And if you started over again, would you still remember me, because I would still remember you, and it’s hard to deal with someone you love not knowing who you are and -”

“Well, that’s a strange way to say it for the first time,” she interrupted. I could vaguely see the whites from her teeth as she smiled. “Seems a bit early for the ‘I love you’s, doesn’t it? It’s been about, what, a month?”

“About that,” I said, smiling back at her. I couldn’t help it - even though we were talking about a sad subject, there was still something about being around her that made me happy that we were even allowed to be in the same world. “I mean since you’re dying and all, it seems like something that should be said now rather than later, just in case.”

“You’re right,” she said, turning back toward me and planting a kiss on my lips. Though the feeling was a different sort of icy smooth than I was used to, the taste was still the same, and I drew it in for as long as possible. “I love you too.” She shuttered, and I reached out my hand to stroke her arm. “I’m fine, it’s just that it feels so weird to say after being alone and independent for such a long time.”

“I mean, the plus side of this relationship is that you still get the chance to be alone and independent in your own time, since I can’t be there. You get to be the badass owner of a brothel, and I’m just the guy who sneaks over once in a while to fuck your brains out.”

She laughed and started to say something, but then I heard the sound of shuffling at the door (hers, I assumed, since I was home alone) before someone called Edith’s name. She looked in the direction of the door, her vibe clearly upset at the interruption, and sighed. “I’ve got to go, duty calls. I hope you can make it back tonight, though. If I’m dying soon, we might as well spend as many nights together as possible.”

“I’ll be here waiting for you,” I promised, squeezing her hand one more time before she got up and walked out of the room.

_________

“A shadow?” Charlie asked. His mouth was agape at the news, with a forkful of pasta halfway to it. We were back at the little diner (what could I say, there was a sort of appeal to the place that I hadn’t noticed until last time), and I was having a hard time telling Charlie about all the updates while also trying to keep his voice down so we didn’t attract the attention of all the other customers. Not that there were a lot there, but there were a few families of older people, and they seemed like the type that would spread a secret to the entire town in 15 minutes. “When I was there, we had to beg for what felt like hours just to get a slight gust of wind, and now you’re seeing a shadow person?!”

“And I can touch her if I want, although she’s really fucking cold, so it’s not something that I look forward to doing a lot,” I said nonchalantly, taking a large bite of my burger.

Charlie stared at me, finally moving the fork to his mouth. “How the hell are you so calm about this? This is one of the biggest paranormal events that the world has ever seen, and you’re just over here acting like this is something that everyone sees every day!”

“Well, when it’s your reality, you do kind of see it every day,” I answered with a shrug. “And I’ve been seeing Edith every day for a while now, so whether it’s in her full-bodied form after I go to sleep, or if it’s her shadow form when she’s just there with me, it’s not that weird of a sight at this point.”

“You’ve been seeing here every day, and you didn’t let me know so that I could come over and investigate for the good of science?”

“I don’t think you want to be in the room while I do what I’ve been doing every day,” I said with a sly smile. Charlie choked on his pasta for a moment - the coughing brought eyes over to our table, but they left as soon as he was done.

“Okay, more important than that, you’ve been getting ghost puss every day and you didn’t let me know about it?”

“You were busy, stuff happens.”

“I will always make time for stories about you getting laid by a ghost. So, quick, tell me all the details.”

I ignored his question, twirling a fry in my ketchup and staring off into space for a moment while he talked about what he imagined fucking a ghost would be like. “The worst part is, though, that she’s going to die soon.”

Charlie stopped mid-sentence to process what I was saying. “I mean, she’s already dead, though, isn’t she? She’s a ghost, and I don’t know all the rules of being a ghost, but I think one of the major ones is that you already have to be dead for it to count.”

“Yeah, she’s already dead, but she’s in her own time, you know? It’s not just like it’s one day looping in eternity. She’s in her own time, and that’s passing by as our time is, and she’s getting closer and closer to the day that she died.”

“Shit.” Charlie put down his fork and looked at me, clearly trying to find the right words to say. “Sorry about that. I can tell by the way you talk about her that she means a lot to you. And I assume there’s nothing that can be done about it?”

I shrugged. “There might be, I’m not entirely sure how this loop of hers works. But she didn’t want to know what happened exactly, and I’m not going to force her to know. So, I guess we’re stuck on the two options of her either starting whatever process of this loop is all over again, or her being gone for eternity. Maybe that means she’s going to finally be at peace?”

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“If she wasn’t at peace the first time she died, what makes you think she will be now?” Charlie said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Fuck that, though. I get being all stoic about your death if it’s inevitable, and I don’t know the situation, so maybe it is inevitable for her, but it sure doesn’t sound like something you should just be ignoring if there’s a chance that it could save her. And since you’re sure that you’re not messing up the timeline with this and making it so your grandpa never got the house, meaning you’ve got to come crash on my couch for the rest of eternity, it only makes sense for you to try to change it! I doubt she’s reliving the time of her death just because she enjoyed it so much, after all.”

Charlie had a point, and it was a frustrating one, per usual. “I can’t just convince someone that they need me to tell them how and when they died!”

“The fuck you can’t.”

“And I don’t even know the date for sure!” I continued. “The lady at the historical society gave me a year and the manner of her death, but she didn’t get into a ton of specifics. Edith lived a life kind of outside of the realm of history, so it makes it a little difficult to know specifics.”

“Oh damn, if only there was something like a graveyard where we could go and find her tombstone that probably has her date of death on it,” Charlie said sarcastically.

I stared at him for a moment, processing what he had said - I was half surprised that I didn’t come up with that idea myself, but Charlie was always the ideas man. I stuffed the rest of my burger into my mouth and waved at the waitress to bring us our check. “You know, you and your ideas really suck sometimes.”

Charlie smiled brightly at me. “You’re free to just thank me for them next time, but you’re welcome.”

_________

After a quick Google search, we realized that there were only two cemeteries in town that were open at that time, and one was a Catholic cemetery connected to the church. While I had no problem with Edith’s profession, something told me that the Catholic church would take offense to it, especially at that time, so we opted to try the other one first. We arrived, pulling through the huge gates that led to acres and acres of sprawling gravesites. I sighed when I first saw it - I hadn’t spent much time in graveyards other than during funerals, and usually, then, I wasn’t in the mood to look around them. When Charlie had suggested the dinner, it seemed like it would be such a quick trip - look through a couple of graves for about an hour, then head on back to my house to further discuss if trying to further convince Edith was the right option. Looking at the graveyard as a whole, though, I knew we could be looking for days, trying to find the right name.

‘This is going to take forever,” I complained to Charlie. He had kept his eyes on the cemetery road, traveling toward the back. Unlike myself, he was someone who liked to come to the graveyard to walk around and look at some of the historical graves that we housed, so I figured that he had a better idea of where to start than I did. “By the time we find it, she’ll have died again already, and this will have all been for nothing.”

“I see we’ve got our pessimism on today,” he chuckled, taking a left turn at a fork in the road. “It’s not going to take nearly as long as you think it will. Yeah, this is a big graveyard, but it’s also the oldest one in the county. When you’ve had people dying for hundreds of years, the gravesites can start to add up. But most of these are newer. The entire first half is from the 1950s or later, and that’s not what we’re looking for. And the way far back is almost all the earliest ones, from about the 1800s. That’s a little too early for us, so we know we’re somewhere near that section, but not quite there. Plus,” he said, pulling to a stop at a small building off to the side of the road. From the front, I had thought it was a mausoleum, but from here, I could see people moving inside of it - hopefully, it was an office instead. “We have the added benefit of people having already looked at and cataloged all the graves from this section. After all, the historical society is not the only group of history nerds in these parts. These guys do it for a living, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they could tell us where to go based on memory alone. Come on,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt.

We walked over the grass toward the building. Even though this was still a working office, there were gravesites surrounding it on the ground, as though it were once a gravesite itself. As we moved closer, though, I saw crosses carved into the side, and I realized that it may once have been a tiny church for the mourners. The door was large and wooden, and the sound that it made when Charlie knocked on it made it seem like it was solid oak, the sort that had been there since the graveyard had been set up.

After a few minutes, a small, mousey-looking woman came to the door. She pushed her eyeglasses up her nose to get a better look at us. Something panged in my chest - there was something about her that reminded me of Edith, although I couldn’t place what. Her hair was similar, I suppose - brown, and tied up in a neat bun - but otherwise I couldn’t place what the familiarity was. “Can I help you two?” she asked.

“Yeah, hi, my name’s Charlie, and this is Brian. We’re hoping that you could help us find the gravestone of the person who used to live in Brian’s house. Edith…” Charlie slowed, looking at me.

“Bowman,” I filled in for him. “She died in 1924.”

“Ah, it’s not very often that we look up graves that old in our database. Family history project?” she guessed.

“Something like that,” Charlie said with a shrug.

“Well, come in. It’ll take me a minute to find it - the registry computer is not as fast as it once was. In the meantime, Kyle,” she said, gesturing to a teenaged-looking man in the corner, “could you give them the tour and let them know what we’re working on?”

“Sure thing, Mallory,” he said, bouncing up from his seat and coming over to greet us. He held his hand out for a handshake and I took it. His handshake was a little too firm like a young man trying too hard to make a good first impression. “As Mallory said, I’m Kyle.”

“Charlie, Brian,” Charlie said, pointing to each of us in turn.

“Welcome, Charlie and Brian! This is the visitor’s center and research lab for this part of Mount Mary’s cemetery, but right now it’s mostly the research lab because there’s not usually a ton of visitors in this area. There’s not a lot to see of the tour,” he gestured around the large room - There was one offshoot that I assumed was the restroom, but other than that, he was right, you could pretty much see it all from where we stood, “but what we’re working on is interesting. You see, there were several gravesites in the cemetery where the stones were removed or broken to such a state that we are unable to figure out who was originally buried there. That wouldn’t be a problem for a lot of modern-day cemeteries, but unfortunately, the original gravesite records were destroyed in a fire in the 1940s, so we can’t use those to look them up. So, we’ve been trying to piece together who was buried where through a variety of other notes and images that were left behind by the original cemetery workers. Luckily, we happen to be in a county where the gravediggers did keep a schedule of their work, so we have that, plus some invoices for families. It’s not a ton, and sometimes it’s hard to find the right people but I like puzzles.

“I’m surprised that Mallory didn’t recognize Edith Bowman’s name,” he continued. “After all, we just saw a record of hers last week - Not her grave, mind, but I assume hers is most likely fairly close. I don’t remember seeing that name on one of the tombstones I’ve cleaned recently, so it’s quite possible that hers is one that was destroyed as well. As I’m sure you’re aware, she ran The Blue Room, and brothels were a thing that was a little controversial in town, so most of them did get destroyed. But as I was saying, we just located the grave of Mabel Whittaker last week because of an invoice assigned to Edith Bowman. She’s now been given a new plaque - not super expensive, but enough to identify who she is if one of her relatives were to come looking, or if someone were interested in the history of some of the townsfolk.” Kyle pulled out his phone and after a second, showed me the picture of a small metal marker on the grass reading “Mabel Whittaker, – 1934.” He waited for me to read it fully, then explained “We couldn’t put the birth year on there, because we don’t have a record of when she was born. You’d think the hospital would have one, but, before the 1900s, it was a little more iffy if someone was born in a hospital or not. But yes, a new stainless steel marker that should hopefully last for some time to come, courtesy of a generous donation from a patron of our historical society.”

At that time, Mallory came walking back toward us, and I could tell from her face that she didn’t have the best news. “I’m sure Kyle explained the project to you?” she asked, and Charlie nodded. “Well, unfortunately, it looks like we haven’t been able to narrow down her grave yet. I’m glad you came here first, instead of just trying to find it. I can tell you the general area of where it probably is - I’m fairly certain that The Blue Room paid in advance for several plots, so she’s most likely in that area. But I am unfortunately not able to tell you the exact space. However,” she said, handing me two pieces of paper, “I did print off what information we had - I know it’s not a lot, but you can at least find the general area, which might be of interest to you.”

Charlie took the papers out of my hand - I didn’t mind. I felt like every time I was getting one step closer to figuring things out, something got in the way. I guess that’s what happens when you’re trying to find information about a person before the internet was created. She was outside of the law, but not so outside that she was infamous. A lot of information about her was lost to time, and I was going to have to find some way to be okay with that.

Charlie, however, was not that sort of a person. He thanked Mallory, distractedly reading through all of the papers. “Okay, I think I have a general idea where it might be,” he said, leading me out the door and back through the gravesites. He didn’t wind his way back to the car, instead leading me farther toward a grass-covered field. There were a few gravestones cluttering it, but not many, and I assumed that that meant that it was an area where most of the gravestones had been destroyed, as there was no room in the older areas for free space. We walked, unsure if we were stepping on graves or the grass around it, but sure at this point, any spirits still around their bodies were probably used to it.

“So,” Charlie said, coming to a stop in the middle of a fairly open area of the ground, “I think this should be about it, but it’s hard to tell without grave markings. Look for Mabel’s plaque.”

I looked at the ground, trying to see anything other than the grass. Finally, after a few minutes of walking around, a hint of silver glinted out of the ground. “Found it!” I called, and Charlie walked over to me. I crouched down to read the inscription - Mabel Whittaker.

“So, she’s got to be buried somewhere around here,” Charlie said, looking around at the blank plots of land. “Not that that will help us with what we’re looking for, but maybe it will give you some sense of closure to the ‘she’s already dead’ thing. That’s the weird thing with meeting a ghost - the closure should have already happened before you even met them.” He dug his nose back into the papers, perhaps trying to see if there was any more information that would be useful.

I didn’t need a paper to see where she was buried, though. As soon as I crouched down to read Mabel’s insignia, I could feel it. There was a pull, deep inside my stomach, toward a space of land about ten feet to the left of where I was crouching. I stood up, following my sixth sense to the space. Though the air was chill with the approaching fall temperature, there was something about that space that felt warm, maybe even a little homey. I swore I was able to smell the scent of her as I stood there, but I realized that it was most likely just my imagination. The feeling wasn’t, though. I crouched down on the ground over her gravesite. The pull of her from down there was so strong that I almost fell over, but I somehow managed to keep my footing. I put a hand down on the ground, just to feel what I could of her. It was Edith, but there was something about the damp earth that felt so alive to me. “She’s over here,” I called to Charlie.

Charlie came sauntering over, looking at the ground. “How do you know that? It could be any one of these plots.”

“I can just feel it,” I said with a shrug.

Charlie thought that over for a second. “Makes about as much sense to me as anything else related to this,” he finally said. He copied my movements and crouched down on the ground with his hand on the grass. I could see that he was trying to sense something, but it just wasn’t coming to him. Maybe I was just more sensitive than he was, or maybe she was just more connected to me. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing, but I still believe what you’re saying,’ he said, standing up and dusting the dirt off his palms. “And with that, I have both good and bad news. Which would you rather hear first?”

“I guess the good?” I said questioningly.

“Okay, well, the good news is that they did find her date of death, which I suppose makes sense. It was probably in a newspaper or something, I would imagine.”

I stood up, too. I don’t know why it surprised me that they had that bit of information, but Charlie was right - if they had anything, that’s the sort of information that made sense. “And the bad news?”

“The bad news is that it’s October 24th.” Less than a week from today. Jesus, I wasn’t ready for that sort of bad news. I stared down at the grave again, trying to process it. “That means,” Charlie continued, “that if we’re going to be able to convince her to let us tell her how she dies to save her ghost life, we have to start working on it pretty quick.”

I thought over what he said for a moment and then nodded, heading back toward the car. “I have no idea how we’re going to pull it off, but I do think we should at least try.” Charlie, in apparent agreement, followed me back to the car, and we headed off to the house.

__________

The house always felt colder whenever Edith wasn’t around - I knew that was a bad sign for me, considering what was coming, but I couldn’t help but notice the chill as we walked through the front door. It had grown close tonight as we drove back, so it was no wonder why Edith wasn’t in the main parlor, but I had still gotten my hopes up. “Alright, lover boy,’ Charlie joked at me. “Do you know where she is, or do you have any way to get in contact with her? I can start yelling at random if need be.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, that might attract some of the ghosts,” I admitted. “Might not be the best way to get to talk to Edith, though.”

“Fair.”

“It seems like it’s a bit too early for her to be in the bedroom. And I don’t want to blow up her reputation by making it obvious that two men are looking for her.” I thought for a moment and then realized. “We could try calling for Alice! She is already aware of me, and she was willing to get Edith last time!”

“So many god damned ghosts in this house and I was hardly able to get a gust of wind,” Charlie complained, mostly under his breath. I ignored him and started walking through the rooms calling for Alice. I wandered the bottom floor, Duke by my side, and Charlie must have taken the top floor, as he was no longer with me. I could hear him through the floorboards, though, gruffly yelling Alice’s name. I rolled my eyes - if Charlie was yelling for me, I wouldn’t want to go, either.

“You’re making quite a racket, you know,” Alice said from behind me. Her voice sounded whimsical, as though she was confused by what was going on, but wasn’t upset by it. “I think some of the girls upstairs have heard your friend.”

I turned around to find a shadow, much like I had seen when talking with Edith. Alice was shorter than I had imagined, with a very petite frame, almost like she was a teenager rather than the adults that worked here. I still couldn’t make out much of her features in the darkness, but I looked where I assumed her eyes were. “Yeah, sorry about Charlie,” I said. “He’s never been much of one for subtlety.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind there being a little bit of question as to why the voices in the dark know me. It adds to the mysterious appeal when others can hear the ghosts talk back. But if you can get him to stop before he bothers the guests too much?”

“Sure, not a problem.” I took out my phone and texted Charlie the all-clear. “He’ll stop as soon as he gets my message.”

“The future is so odd. I’m glad that I’m still around to get to see some of it!” She said, leaning over to look at my phone. I wondered if she was able to see more than the shadow I could. “Fascinating thing. Now, what is it that you wanted from me? There’s a customer in the entry, so I can’t be long.”

“Right, sorry. Could you please go get Edith for me again? I didn’t want to make things weird for her by yelling her name throughout the house, but you’re able to see her better than I am.”

“Understandable, and much appreciated. I don’t personally care what you two are about, but I’d much rather continue to be employed.”

“Gotcha. I won’t call for her again.”

“You won’t have much of an opportunity to,” she said. “Her death is right around the corner again.”

“Did you get something?” Charlie asked, coming around the corner. I held up a finger to shush him and then pointed at the shadowy mass in front of me. I could see his eyes stare right through her. Apparently, the shadows were only visible to me, I realized.

“You mean you know about her death?” I asked. Charlie’s eyes widened, and he quietly took a seat in one of the living room chairs.

“Of course!” Alice said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She doesn’t, though. We’ve been through this loop so many times, and the first few times, I tried to tell her, but after that, I gave up my attempts. She’s quite stubborn, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” I said, nearly grinning, but I brought myself back to the conversation at hand at the last moment. “But if she doesn’t know about it, how do you?”

“There are definite perks to being a spiritualist. One of those perks is that you notice when things just aren’t adding up, and when you feel like you’ve done something before. Most people ignore those signs, but I don’t, so it’s easy to tell.”

I nodded, knowing that I didn’t fully grasp the concept, but I probably understood it as well as I was going to that night. I wasn’t going to waste my potentially last few days of Edith knowing who I am by chatting with Alice all night. “Do you think, if I told her, it would make a difference?”

Alice’s shadow figure shrugged. “I’m not sure - she wasn’t in love with me, so that might make a difference. The loop doesn’t stop with her death, though - we keep going until I assume all of us die, although I’m admittedly not the last, so I’m not sure.”

“And you’ve never been able to avoid your death to see?”

She shook her head. “Pneumonia. Kind of a hard thing to avoid for someone who works with the public in a cold climate. Mary did at one point, but she disappeared from the loop long ago.”

“When she managed to survive?” I asked excitedly, but Alice shook her head.

“No, it was after that at some point. When she disappeared, it was just the middle of a weekday. She went to another room to do chores, and then poof, just gone, haven’t seen her since.”

“Okay, so….” I started slowly, trying to process it all.

Charlie took that opportunity to cut in. “What’s she saying?” he hissed under his breath.

“She knows about the loop. She’s saying that stopping the loop won’t save Edith, but that something is making them disappear. First someone named Mary, and now Mabel.”

“And don’t forget Claire,” Alice mentioned.

“And someone named Claire.”

“Tell Charlie I said hi,” Alice said with a little wave.

“Alice says hi, too, by the way.”

Charlie smiled. “Can she hear me?” Alice nodded, and I did so in response. “Hi, Alice! Great to have you here. I was always hoping to interact with a ghost. Not sure why Brian can see you and I can’t, but at least we can chat this way. So, how did those other women disappear?”

“No one knows, they just up and vanished one day,” Alice answered, and I relayed the information to Charlie.

“Interesting,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “So, have y’all been here just in a loop since your deaths, and then had other women join in?”

“Oh no, definitely not. We all showed up around the same time, and have just been here since.”

“And what time did you show up?” Charlie asked, getting out of his chair and looking excitedly near where I was looking, although I could tell from his unfocused eyes that he wasn’t able to see anything.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure. A dozen loops ago? It’s hard to keep track.”

“And how long is a loop?”

“I’m not sure, since nobody else remembers much of anything, other than a sense of deja vu. I would guess around 10 to 15?”

I could see Charlie doing calculations in his head. “Well, I have an idea, but you might not like it.”

“What sort of idea?”

“If I’m adding everything up correctly, I’m thinking that to move on, they need their headstones to be replaced.”

I could see Alice considering the proposition at the same time I was. “That would make a certain amount of sense,” Alice answered. “As sad as it is to say, a lot of us were forgotten in our old lives, before we made it to The Blue Room. This whole ghost thing might be a way to keep us from being forgotten by the world again.”

I reiterated what Alice said to Charlie, and he smiled brightly. “Then it’s settled! We’ll go tell the people at the site where Edith’s grave is, and then she can be free from this eternal loop.”

“I don’t know if it’s that simple…” I started, but Charlie cut me off.

“It is that simple, but you don’t want it to be that simple.” I nodded my head, looking down at the floor. I felt bad that my wishes were to keep her in her situation, but on the other hand, she didn’t seem particularly upset about being there. “I get it, man. It’s a tough thing to do, and if you’d rather, we can wait until after she’s died in this loop to do it. But you can’t just keep having her loop around for your enjoyment. It’s selfish to keep her trapped if we can figure out a way to let her go.”

“I hate that you’re right, but you’re right. But I need to at least have the chance to say goodbye.”

Charlie walked up to me and clapped his hand on my shoulder for a moment, before apparently changing his mind and pulling me in for a hug. “I know, man, and I would never do that to you. You take whatever time you need, and I’ll start making arrangements so that when you’re ready, we can let her go. I’m going to head out and let you guys be alone, but you know I’m just a phone call away if you need me, right?”

“I know,” I said, fighting back tears. Charlie gruffly patted my shoulder again, then headed for the door. I watched him leave and then turned back to face the spot where Alice had been - apparently in the conversation, she had decided to slink off as well. That was fine, I thought. I needed some time to be alone. But more than that, I needed time to talk with Edith.