“You have a way. I know you have a way.” To Aiden’s shame, his voice broke on the last word.
Magda glared at him. “No. Can’t be done, not without God’s help anyway. And I don’t believe divine intervention is real, either, so let’s just say it can’t be done, period.”
“Don’t lie to me. I saw Missy Engle talking to you, alive, after she died. After Tara came to see you.”
For a moment, he feared that Magda would stand up and slap him. After a few seconds of staring at him in icy rage, she looked away and bit a thumbnail. “Don’t know where people get these stupid ideas, like I’m a witch or something.”
Aiden drew a shaking breath. “I don’t think you’re a witch, but I know you’re hiding something. And if it’s something that can bring him back, then. . . I’m sorry, but I won’t leave you alone until you tell me.”
She stood, then, and brushed some speck of lint off her denim work-shirt. “I’m sorry that you lost Milo. I truly am, and if I had a secret laboratory that could resurrect him, I’d do it. But what you’re asking, I can’t do.”
Aiden didn’t move. “What about Tara Engle’s daughter?”
She looked at the floor. “That’s a sad story, and not one that’ll help you. Please leave, now.”