Historical Fiction/Paranormal Fiction
Date Published: March 11th, 2025
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
In 1890s Missouri, secrets are a matter of survival.
Clairvoyant Sarah Richardson screams as her older sister Katherine is
forced into a straightjacket and thrust into a carriage bound for the St.
Louis City Lunatic Asylum. She is devastated to learn Katherine has been
blamed for her inadvertent role in an abused woman’s murder. Now, too
frightened to speak up, she hides the truth that it should have been her in
that carriage.
Sarah’s mounting guilt becomes too much, and she heads to St. Louis,
determined to regain her sister’s confidence and prove herself worthy
of forgiveness.
While working to heal their relationship, Sarah meets a timid housewife who
tries to hide her bruises. When troubling psychic visions of the woman begin
to affect her, she sees an opportunity to atone for her past mistakes.
Desperate to do whatever it takes to make things right, Sarah embarks on a
perilous journey that may cost her everything—including her own
life.
EXCERPT
“Do you girls know what that bird is?” Grandma Rose asked in a lilting voice, as if she was trying to mimic a bird’s song. I knew she wanted to lift our spirits.
Katherine ignored her and kept right on tugging to free the damp bed linen from the basket.
I looked to where Grandma was pointing. “I think it’s a wren. Is that right?”
She gave a slight smile and nodded, but her attention was on Katherine. “For such a little bird, they sure have big voices, don’t they? Say, have I ever told you girls about my favorite poem?”
Grandma had always been in love with birds, pointing them out here and there, trying to get us to identify them by sight or sound, so I had no doubt her favorite poem had something to do with them.
I waited a couple seconds for Katherine to answer. When she didn’t, I said, “No ma’am. Is it about a bird?”
“Yes. It’s called ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ by an English poet named Mr. John Keats. It’s about a bird’s song so captivating, it eases someone’s suffering to the point they’re able to forget their troubles for a while. Isn’t that lovely?”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “My favorite bird is the hummingbird. They’re so fast and when the sun hits their feathers, their colors—” The sound of horse hooves beating the ground stopped me.
We turned our attention to the road. All three of us quit hanging laundry and looked out to see Daddy riding Jessie up to the house, followed by an unfamiliar horse and carriage.
Grandma stepped out from behind the wash line. Her mist changed from bright to shadowy blue in a blink of an eye. “No, Charles,” she whispered.
“Katherine!” Daddy yelled as he alighted Jessie. The black carriage came to a stop.
“Charles, please!” Grandma screamed as she rushed over to Daddy. “Charles, don’t!”
A heavy-set gentleman in a waistcoat and top hat dropped the reins and stepped down from the carriage. He opened the door and helped out two women in white dresses, and then walked over to Daddy. He said something I couldn’t make out. Daddy and the man started toward us.
“Run!” I urged as I tried to pull my sister away. As Katherine took a couple of steps the men each grabbed an arm and lifted her off the ground, tearing my hand from hers. “Please don’t take her, please!” I begged. “Grandma, please don’t let them take her!”
Grandma pulled at Daddy’s arm and dug her heels into the dirt. He yanked his arm away. When they got close to the nurses, the women held up a white garment with elongated arms and Katherine began to scream. Her body writhed as she wrestled to free herself from their grip.
I ran over and tugged on Daddy’s arm. In the chaos, he jerked away from me, causing his elbow to hit me under my chin. I bit my tongue and reeled backward. The fat man’s top hat fell from his head as both men and nurses secured Katherine’s arms behind her back. One of the women reached into a bag and pulled out what looked like a piece of rolled up white cloth. Katherine’s pleading eyes were locked on mine as the woman placed the cloth into my sister’s mouth and tied it behind her head. Since she could no longer scream, I screamed for her. It sounded unearthly, as if it was coming from someone else, from somewhere else.
Grandma grabbed me and held me so tight I could hardly breathe. We watched as they struggled to lift Katherine into the carriage. I squeezed my eyes shut as my sister’s guttural wail filled the air. When she was in, the women quickly entered the carriage and closed the door.
The portly man huffed as he bent over and snatched his dusty hat off the ground. He straightened and looked at Daddy. “She’ll be all right,” he said. He hoisted himself into the seat, took the reins, and slapped the backs of the horses.
I clung to Grandma, begging God to let this be a bad dream as the carriage rambled away. When it was no longer visible, I looked at Daddy. The sight of him crying angered me. I jerked away from Grandma and ran at him, my fists flying into his chest. “How dare you cry!” I yelled as I pounded over and over. “How dare you!”
About the Author
Award-winning author Raquel Y. Levitt holds an MFA in creative writing and
a master’s degree in English. Her short stories have been published in
various anthologies and literary journals and reflect her passion for
writing about strong women finding their voice and their power. She is a
world traveler, an amateur nature photographer, and a collector of cool
rocks. Raquel and her husband live, work, and play in the Texas Hill Country
and Montana’s Bitterroot Valley. The Seer is her debut novel.
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