I thought you were a widow,” Phil said to Toots. Out of her mind with worry for Abby, the last thing she wanted to do was explain Sophie’s paranormal abilities to him. He was a doctor. A man who lived by the rules of science. She didn’t want to scare him away. So far, he’d been a great rock to lean on. If she told him about the events that took place in the dining room, he might suffer from a heart attack himself, and then what would she do? “She is. A few times over,” Sophie interjected. Toots shook her head. “Please, Sophia, not now. It’s . . . The timing is all wrong, please. Let’s not talk about this. All I’m concerned with now is Abby.” She gazed at Phil. “Maybe you should just head back to Charleston. You have done enough, and I appreciate it, but your patients must need you much more than I do.” Toots didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but she couldn’t see dragging Phil into this part of her life. Eight dead husbands, a best friend who just so happened to speak to dead people.
