After the sun had set and the background noise made by those still living had died down, Dane and Ryan took their seats at one corner of the enormous dining table. Illuminated solely by the light of a solitary candle, Ryan began.
“We should put our fingertips on the glass. Just lightly.”
Simultaneously, they did so.
“Concentrate,” said Ryan.
Dane wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be concentrating on, so he concentrated on Ryan.
“Is there anyone here with us?” Ryan asked the darkness.
Dane’s eyes went from Ryan’s face to the glass.
“Is there anyone here with us?” he asked again.
Nothing happened. The glass didn’t move. There were no disembodied voices. No shimmers.
“You ask,” said Ryan. “Ask for your aunt.”
Dane nodded. “Aunt Beatrice, are you here?”
“Concentrate.”
“I am conce
