Prologue
New Paltz, New York
Carnival Days
Aubrey Ellis was five the first time life turned upside over, like a somersault in deep seas. Her parents were dead, and she was sent to live with her grandmother—Charlotte Antonia Pickford Ellis Heinz Bodette, carnival mistress deluxe. The woman’s hodgepodge troupe and a traveling life were Charley’s soul, though Aubrey quickly became her heart. Despite the odds, or the odd environment—the certainty of falling asleep in Piscataway only to wake in Poughkeepsie, the loneliness that lingered in carnival crowds—Aubrey prevailed. She had to. Her life’s other demand required all her wit and will, because Aubrey’s second somersault was the inexplicable ability to speak to the dead.
At twenty-one, Aubrey found that the freakish yet fascinating phenomenon of her childhood was never far from her thoughts. To her surprise, it was Zeke Dublin who had managed to soothe the most calamitous memories, peppering Aubrey’s life with security and happiness. In the heat of the current summer, those emotions had become Aubrey’s focus, perhaps a driving force, and she didn’t want the feelings to end. She’d imagined Zeke would want the same. How could he not? But as fantasies so often went, reality had muscled its way into this evening.
She was alone now, in a camper nicknamed Mule, stretched across rumpled sheets and a mattress that was the entire bedroom. Nearly an hour had passed since Zeke had abruptly exited. Beside her lay a thin gold chain. She picked it up, watching metal and moonbeams intertwine. Aubrey blinked and dropped the bauble, a gift from Zeke.
Her expectation hadn’t been without cause. Zeke had filled the voids in Aubrey’s life, first with friendship, then with a deeper sense of family. And now, for better or worse—a love story. The chain tangled around her fingers again, and Aubrey swiped at the tear running from her cheek to her ear. Zeke didn’t do “See you next season . . .” presents. READ MORE