Page 37 of In the Garden of Monsters

“You could have died, Julia. You can’t stay there. You need to come home,” she said.

I had been prepared to tell her I wanted to do just that, but now the words would not come.

“I...I can’t,” I said, still thinking of the flames and the woman who had appeared in their midst. The woman who looked just like me.

Somehow, I knew the ghost was me, but also wasn’t. Her clothing was of a style I had never worn, and yet I could picture myself in those same garments.

I gasped with understanding. How had I not realized it before? The ghost didn’t just look like me. The ghost was aformerme. I was sure of it.

“Jules? Are you there?”

“Sì.I can’t come home. You know how much I need the money. I’ll be okay. I just needed to hear your voice.”

I expected her to try to convince me to return, but she surprised me. “I have a few days off. I’ll be there by nightfall.”

“What? You don’t even have a car.”

“There must be a train. It’s not like you are in Siberia, Jules.”

Though I insisted I would be all right, she refused to listen. “I’ll see you soon.”

Signora Rosati appeared at the doorway as soon as I set the phone down upon the cradle. “You shouldn’t let her come here,” the old widow said, shaking her head. “No good will come of it. She is not of this place.”

“Neither am I,” I said slowly, a shiver creeping across the back of my neck.

“She wasn’t invited.”

“I just invited her.”

She cocked her head and stared at me as though pondering my statement, then abruptly turned around and left the room.

I almost called Lillian back to tell her not to come. There was something in the widow’s words that made me wonder if I would regret not heeding them. But I already felt bad that I had intruded upon the old lady and didn’t want to further wear out my welcome.

When I departed the room and turned the corner, I ran right into the widow. She let out a horrible scream, raising her cane as though she intended to beat me with it.

“Who are you?” she cried, sliding back into Italian. “Why are you in my house? Giorgio! Giorgio! Help! Someone has broken into my house!” She began swinging the cane wildly, and I barely managed to back away to avoid being hit. She no longer smelled like rain but instead had that peculiar old-person odor that reminded me of thenonnawho served me spaghetti at thetrattoriaaround the corner from my apartment in Rome.

The spindly servant appeared. He said a few words that I couldn’t hear, and mercifully, she lowered the cane. At the door I looked back. Signora Rosati had sat down upon the couch where I had found her, as though I had never interrupted whatever thoughts she might be having.

Minos stood when he saw me and, wordlessly, led me back through the streets of Bomarzo to the waiting car. As we sped down the hill toward the garden, I felt sure that Signora Rosati wouldn’t even remember I had been there at all.

The sun was bright as I made my way up the trail toward Proserpina’s bench, and while the light filtering through the trees should have lent theboschettoa less gloomy countenance, I did not like being alone in such a place. I rushed past the stone giants and beyond the fallen mausoleum where I’d first heard the whispers of my name. At thetempietto, I saw Orpheus waiting. I picked him up and cuddled him close, suddenly feeling desperate for comfort. The widow’s words had left me with a terrible foreboding and worry about Lillian’s arrival. The cat rubbed his face against mine, obviously glad to be held. He climbed to my shoulder and together we went toward the hippodrome, where the others awaited my arrival.

Ignazio saw me first and came to meet me on the stairs near the statue of Cerberus. My heart pounded when he stepped closer.Damn it.I hated the pull he had on me.

“You were able to reach Lillian?”

I nodded. “She is going to catch a train to join me here.”

Ignazio’s brow wrinkled with concern, but the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “It will take her to Attigliano, about seven kilometers away.”

Seven kilometers. It would take her an hour and a half to walk to Bomarzo. She couldn’t possibly be here before nightfall if that was the case.

“Would it be possible to arrange for a car to pick her up late this afternoon?”

Ignazio shook his head. “Not today. The train only comes once a week—few have need to stop here.”

“Once a week?” My hope of seeing Lillian today suddenly fell.

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