Kaylee took a deep breath. What she was about to say would be like setting off a torch in the middle of a powder magazine. She knew only too well what buttons to push with women to upset them because, for years, she had been the target of such hostility herself: the arrogant undertone, the disparaging looks, the demeaning salutations, the patronizing comments.

Kaylee knew them all.

"This is typical behaviour from young, inexperienced women! When they feel unimportant and insignificant, they make up hair-raising stories and claim to see things that aren't true. They would try anything to disguise their insignificant nature."

If this young thing had any brains and a shred of self-respect, she wouldn't take this disgrace lying down.

"Lie to the reporters all you want. Maybe a few idiotic fools will even believe your fairy tales, or you might find a small space in a trashy newspaper. But in the end, this doesn't change the facts. You haven't seen anything; you're just wasting our time. The time of important men who have better things to do than deal with liars like you." Kaylee's voice grew louder with every word.

"Crowford!" Dr. Archer suddenly blurted out. While he quickly bridged the distance between them and grabbed Kaylee's arm to pull her aside, she was still busy hurling accusations and slander at Miss Clarence.

Kaylee snorted and lifted her chin, as she had seen the snide gentlemen in her men's clubs do a hundred times, all thinking they were better than her.

"It's true, doctor! Just look at that girl! She's nothing but a stupid, naïve, attention-seeking child!"

At that moment, Millicent Clarence's temper flared.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you slick London snob! You don't know what's going on inside me! I know very well what I've seen! After all, I've been seeing these damn things since I was three years old! I know the man was dead! And I don't give a damn about your opinion or anyone else's anyway!"

Just then, Millicent realized what had happened. She stared wide-eyed at the two misters in her hospital room.

One looked shocked; the other grinned smugly.

It only took a few seconds before the young woman cupped her hands over her mouth to prevent her excited tongue from revealing any more secrets.

Silence took over the small, white room.

Dr. Archer stared at Miss Clarence in disbelief. Only now did he understand what Kaylee had just done.

"Well, now that you've got rid of this charade, let's talk about the truth. So, what did you see that day, Miss Clarence?" she asked. There was a confident, deliberate calm in her voice. All mockery and derision were wiped away.

"Just forget it. Please!" Miss Clarence stammered, and her anger seemed to have evaporated entirely. Instead, her mood shifted and coloured each of her words in a different tone: swelling panic as she realised what she had just said. And her fear was quite understandable: if the two men were mad doctors and if they were to summarise her statement as a mental illness in a report or even an expert opinion, she would have to stay here. Not just for a few days but forever.

The thought alone was enough to drain the colour from her face and make her eyes glaze with tears. "I wish I hadn't said anything..." The young woman began to tremble. Her legs finally gave way beneath her, and she sank onto the bed.

"We're not here to declare you crazy," Kaylee said calmly but firmly. "We just want to know what you saw."

Millicent slowly raised her eyes and stared uncomprehendingly at the stranger. She was too tired, too mentally exhausted and too overwhelmed to follow. She had pulled herself together for days and tried to appear calm and normal. She had been given sedatives that still made her limbs and mind heavy today. And now the man who had just shouted at her and insulted her to the core was standing in front of her, looking down at her calmly.

It was getting darker and darker outside, and by now, it was almost as if night had fallen on Whitby too soon. The rumble of thunder alternated with the occasional weather glow and pattering rain.

"You said you've been seeing these 'things' since childhood? What exactly did 'these things' look like? A flickering in the air? A flash like a reflection? Or rather a strange shadow?"

Kaylee's questions were oddly specific, and the doctor frowned in confusion at her words. Dr. Archer was not well versed in occult matters, so he could not guess what his partner was alluding to.

She had chosen her question thoughtfully, to be sure. Millicent's words were too precise to be misinterpreted, and Kaylee had a rough idea of what the young patient was alluding to in her words. Miss Clarence seemed to be able to perceive something that most mortal eyes could only do with magical practices: auras.

But Kaylee was not yet thoroughly convinced. The form and nature of the apparition would finally give her some certainty as to whether the girl was lying.

At first, Millicent Clarence seemed to hesitate. But what did she have to lose now? Slowly, the young woman shook her head.

"It's like a haze. Like a kind of smoke. Thin, fine wafts," she finally answered quietly. It was no more than a murmur. The stringy brown hair fell over her shoulder as she nervously wiped her sweaty palms on her knees. "I see it every day. Everywhere. On every object. Every chair, every cup, every pen..." she hesitated briefly, "...on every grave. It's like a fine mist that surrounds everything."

Kaylee's eyes narrowed for a brief moment. Judging by Dr. Archer's expression, he didn't seem to make sense of the conversation, so it was up to her to continue speaking.

"And what do you see on me?" Kaylee asked in a curious, almost excited tone. This case seemed to be more interesting than she had initially thought.

Millicent bit her lower lip. "I don't see it on... the living, not on animals, plants or people. I only see this mist on anything that's... Well, dead."

Kaylee gasped softly as she ran her fingers through her hair from the temple down. "Fascinating. But that means..." Her face drained of all colour. She swallowed hard once. "Damn."

"I don't quite understand. What the hell are you two talking about?" Dr. Archer looked questioningly at his companion, burning for answers.

"Miss Clarence seems to be able to recognise auras. She has a kind of second sight. It allows you to perceive the auras of anything dead. Presumably, even recognise ghosts and other spiritual events that we cannot see. Some occultists call this gift astral vision. In this case, Miss Clarence, without really knowing it, is looking at the spiritistic level of reality where everything dead stands out from the living."

she had taken from the Irish scoundrel O'Brien.

"You see this? That's what's known as a druid's glass, a druid's stone, or a witch's stone. With the right spell, this little pebble allows you to do the same thing. Only Miss Clarence always sees these auras without having to do anything."

"So that means she only sees this mist on everything dead?" Dr. Archer slowly realised that the newspaper article was telling the truth. "That means that the man she saw..."

"Exactly," Kaylee said seriously. "And that, in turn, means we have a severe problem. A dead man is walking through England."

Kaylee and Dr. Archer looked at each other silently, meaningfully. The two searchers were playing through various scenarios in their heads.

The doctor considered the quickest and most credible way to inform the Order of this unusual development. At the same time, Kaylee, with her extensive knowledge of occultism and mythology, began to ask herself various questions.

What horrible thing could be wandering the streets?

Who had brought this creature back from death? And for what purpose?

What could it do until they found this thing? And what if they found it?

Were they capable of handling this?

Kaylee grabbed the bridge of her nose with a low moan and rubbed the spot as if the mere pressure could soothe her and wipe away the slight headache from the tension and the subtle, if misplaced, excitement. Outside, it was thundering, and the raindrops shook the windows with thousands of small drumbeats.

"Can you not remember any details? The face, perhaps, or something else conspicuous?" Dr. Archer now asked Millicent with much more emphasis. His hands twitched, and Kaylee could sense that he probably wanted to grab the young woman by the shoulders and shake her. Thoughts, worries and fragments of memories raged in his head like the storm outside the walls. On the other hand, the silence in the room was all the heavier. The soft, persistent hissing of the gas pipes sounded above them.

"The man... had dark hair. Brown or black, I think. He was wearing a very smart coat. That's how I noticed him... white gloves and a walking stick, like yours," Millicent said, pointing at Kaylee. "He looked a bit like a rich dandy. Dressed up and somehow inappropriate for Whitby..." Her voice broke, and the young woman swallowed. Fear and incomprehension were written all over her face, making her fingers tremble as she brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Then a sudden thought struck her: all the strange words the supposed doctors had uttered: occult, magic, auras.

For her part, Miss Clarence frowned, and her eyes glanced suspiciously back and forth between the two gentlemen in her room. "You're not from St. Bart's Hospital, are you?" she spoke her suspicions aloud. "Who are you?"