It's all so far in the past that it feels safe to talk about; like a story that happened to someone else. Sunlight is presumably still rotting in jail somewhere, and she's far away and for the moment safe. Older, wiser, and better able to take care of herself-- in no small part due to the lessons learned that autumn.

"Anyone would have had a 'psychic' experience in that room," she murmurs, rolling her eyes. But it's not an answer to his question. If you'd asked her a year ago-- six months-- maybe even a week-- she'd have laughed it off so much more easily. Right now-- on the heels of that eerie reading, knowing Daniel is healing in part because of what she saw in the temple-- it feels less straightforward.

Of course I'm not psychic, she wants to say; but she can't say nothing real happened back then. Of course Sunlight hadn't been an avenging angel, ready to bring about the world's rebirth in blood-- but maybe Maisie in the locker room had been more than an overactive imagination.

(It's not as though she's never seen a ghost since then.)

"I thought I could see the molecular structures of the dye in the carpet, the oxygen combusting around the candle wick-- I saw the Devil, and then I spent the next day swearing to everyone that of course I wasn't stoned."