Susan sat up and watched in alarm as the woman seemed to coalesce into existence and became more visible. As the lady solidified, Susan was shocked to see that it was Emma Rothfield-Brackleburn, dressed exactly as she had been in the tin-type they had found in the envelope earlier that evening. Her hair was swept up in a loose knot, with wisps of the golden tendrils framing her face. The shirt that Susan had thought to be plain white linen, was in truth a pale cream eyelet, with pearl buttons lining the front from waist to neck, and matching buttons on the forearms. A small coral cameo hung from a gold pin, which secured the shirt’s short collar. The skirt was light-weight navy wool; the waist was fitted at the sides and flowed straight to the floor. Sturdy black button-up boots adorned her feet and Emma wore crocheted gloves on her perfectly manicured hands.

The vision of Emma moved to the doorway and stretched out her arm, motioning for Susan to follow her, then turned and floated away. Susan turned her head and looked at Justin, sleeping peacefully beside her, oblivious to the events occurring around him. Unable to control her curiosity, she jumped out of the bed and grabbed her silk robe, then rushed through the door after the ghostly figure.

Out in the hallway, Susan caught a quick glimpse of Emma as she descended the staircase. Hastening to keep the spirit within sight, she hurried down the stairs three at a time. Reaching the hall door, Susan stopped short when confronted by the apparition floating in the middle of the parlour and pointing into the empty spare room with a mournful expression. The curiosity that had compelled her to follow Emma’s ghost suddenly vanished, leaving behind a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Seeming to sense her sudden uncertainty, the spirit smiled and held her hand out, palm up. When Susan hesitated further, she heard a disembodied voice in her head say, “Come, there is no need to worry. These are MY memories-- nothing can hurt you here. I possess information that you seek and it can be found nowhere else. Come with me, now, for time is short.”

The gentleness of Emma’s voice and the serene look on her face somehow settled Susan’s rattled nerves. Placing her own hand into the glowing hand before her, she jerked back when the fingers touched warm flesh. Tinny laughter rang in her head and Emma arched her sculpted brows, while again the musical voice echoed with Susan’s head. “Do you wish to learn the truth or not? The night wanes.” Susan gingerly took the offered hand and together the women walked toward the dark room.

As soon as they stepped through the door, the room’s appearance changed drastically. Suddenly the dust that had for so long covered every surface vanished and the room was flooded with bright summer sunlight. The tattered, moldy rug was new again and a highly polished grandmother clock made from seasoned and highly polished maple appeared against one wall. Furniture continued to appear until the room had the appearance of a sewing room. Releasing Susan’s hand, Emma’s spirit crossed the room and took a seat in a hand-hewn rocking chair sitting beside the room’s only window. Leaning over, she rustled around in a basket that was sitting next to the chair and pulled a pair of tiny knitting needles and a ball of fine, snow white yarn from the basket and straightened up. Emma turned and stared out the window wistfully, as she began knitting the fragile yarn with the delicate needles.