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angel. Had Brittney simply cried herself to sleep?
    Encountering no signs of wakefulness in her child, she decided the best thing was to simply let her sleep, and, after a gentle kiss on the forehead and a soft prayer of protection, that’s what she did.
    She departed the nursery walking backward, scanning for clues of any foul play. The diaper changing table. The playpen and overflowing toy box. The rocking horse and the shelf of plush bears and the plastic bins overflowing with Duplo blocks and Muppet dolls. Nothing was disturbed. Nothing out of place.
    She sighed in relief and felt confident enough to leave her precious one alone. Safe and sound, while the terrible distress regarding her oldest daughter once again weighed heavy on her heart. She hated leaving little Brittney. But a sense of duty propelled her back to where she’d just been. Back to Melissa’s side.
    Then the unexpected—a baby’s shrill and colicky cry, so painful and wretched Sharon had no choice but sprint back to the nursery.
    When she opened the door, she was supremely surprised to find Brittney fast asleep again. Not a sign in the world she’d been awake. The crying had stopped the second she placed her hand on the doorknob. The baby slept soundly and softly in her bassinet. Sharon sensed a stitch of unfamiliarity, as if it wasn’t her baby that had made those disturbing noises.
    A chill made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight. She no longer cared to leave her baby all alone. Not while there was an evil entity in the house. Who knew what other kinds of sinister spirits were lingering, ready to snatch her children?
    As he lifted her baby gently from the bassinet, the very thing she imagined came true. Straight from her hands her child flew. It felt like someone or something wrapped its unseen fingers around Brittney’s little body and simply plucked her away. Naturally Sharon screamed when it happened, and screamed again as she watched Brittney floating in midair, rocking this way and that gently, on a gradual and meandering ascent toward the ceiling.
    Brittney, for her part, seemed quite unfazed. Awakened at this point, presumably by her mother’s shrill shrieks, she wasn’t scared or disturbed in any way. Quite the contrary. She was calm and content and even took quite a bit of pleasure in the ride. She laughed and giggled and produced a series of garbled chirps. Baby talk. After all, the person helping her fly through the air with the greatest of ease was a baby too. Small and wonderfully lumpy and so friendly. Brittney asked the spirit its name, and got a response via another series of squeaks and squawks. More baby talk.
    The answer was Ruby.
    The room came alive with supernatural energy. Everything that ran on either AC or DC turned on independently. Tommy the Train and JJ the Plane and talking teddy bears all buzzing and chattering and rolling across the floor, bumping into each other, turning and heading in different directions. The plastic record player awakened and belted out Sesame Street, Bert, Ernie, and Elmo all singing about the letter Q. The dancing scarecrow. The stuffed pigs and dolphins and toy monkeys and barking dogs and mooing cows. A tiny TV came alive under its own power, showing Brittney’s favorite Backyardigans episode.
    Sharon was stunned by what she perceived. Brittney was smiling. Not only that, she had on her face the same look she’d had the time she met Mickey and Minnie. Total and absolute bliss. A smile as wide as the Grand Canyon, complete with her own little Colorado River of drool. It didn’t seem to matter that she was levitating eight feet in the air. Brittney knew something her mother didn’t know. She knew Ruby wouldn’t hurt one of those fine little hairs on her head. Ruby was a baby too. Or at least she was when she had died.
    “Brittney!” Sharon shouted instinctively. “Come down from there!”
    When Brittney refused to come down, and she did refuse (Ruby gave her the choice