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I?”
    Nora was giving Lizzie a strange look — bright-eyed and excited. “Maybe Lizzie could speak to him for you.”
    â€œWhat?” Lizzie spluttered.
    â€œLizzie’s a psychic,” Erin said casually. Lizzie half wanted to shove her off the hay bale she was sitting on. This was horrible. What if they gave Becky false hope?
    Becky stared at her, dumbfounded.
    â€œI’m the circus fortune-teller,” Lizzie said apologetically. “I can, sort of, see into the future.”
    â€œThere’s no ‘sort of’ about it!” Nora said. “Lizzie’s just being modest. She’s got powers!”
    â€œBut I ain’t never talked to a . . .” Lizzie had to say the word. “To a ghost!”
    â€œYou’ve never tried,” said Erin, swigging her milk and raising her eyebrow.
    Lizzie clenched her teeth and glared at Erin. “I don’t even believe in ghosts,” she hissed. “Dead people go up to heaven. They don’t stick around down here for a chat!”
    â€œBut Lizzie, your visions have never been wrong yet,” Nora said. “If anyone can talk to the dead, it’s you. I think you should try.”
    â€œOh, you must!” To Lizzie’s amazement, Becky fell to her knees. “I’m begging you. Please try.”
    Put on the spot as she was, Lizzie had to at least consider it. Could she speak to a dead person? She could try, perhaps, but she wasn’t even sure how. Apart from palm reading, which Madame Aurora had shown her how to do, her visions just happened. She didn’t have any control over them.
    So what on earth should I do? Lizzie thought. Wander around in the cemetery and knock on the gravestones, hoping someone answers? Sit in a circle like a spirit medium and ask if anyone is there? Knock once for yes, twice for no?
    â€œPlease?” Becky said, wide-eyed.
    Lizzie knew she couldn’t refuse. “All right,” she said. “You did us a favor, helping us get to the doctor and all, so I’ll do it. I’ll try to speak to your father.”
    Before Becky could give her another enormous hug, Lizzie quickly added, “But not now, okay? There isn’t time. We’ve got to get the twins back to the circus.”
    â€œFitzy will burst a blood vessel if we’re not back soon,” Nora agreed. “Wait, Becky. I’ve got something for you.” She fished a slip of yellow paper out of her pocket. “Come along to the show tonight!”
    â€œA circus ticket?” Becky said in delight.
    â€œOn the house,” Nora told her. “Can you come? I know you’re busy here, so . . .”
    â€œI’ll come! Just try and stop me!” Becky exclaimed.
    â€œCome to my tent before the show,” Lizzie told her, “and I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything. But I’ll try.” She paused as a thought struck her. “Bring something that belonged to your pa. It might help me make a connection.”
    After all , Lizzie thought as they left, I can’t read a dead man’s palm, can I? Even the thought made her shudder.
    * * *
    Back at the circus the three girls gathered outside Fitzy’s caravan, looking nervously at one another, not wanting to go in.
    Eventually Lizzie spoke up. “Let’s get it over with.”
    They knocked.
    Fitzy came out immediately with Malachy following close behind him. Seeing Erin’s sling, Fitzy’s face fell. “Is it broken?”
    â€œThe doctor said it was just a bad sprain,” said Erin.
    â€œThen you can still perform?” Fitzy asked, sounding hopeful.
    Erin shook her head sadly. “I’ve got to rest up while it heals. I can’t ride.”
    Fitzy covered his face with his hands. Then he parted his fingers so he could see through them. “How long?” came his muffled voice.
    â€œTwo weeks,” Erin told him.
    â€œThat’s impossible. Can’t be