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When we’re almost done with the lamb and some of us are practically licking the plates, Sage excuses himself to use the bathroom down the hall.

“And Jay,” my father says. “What kind of job are you in the market for?”

I stare at Jay, not sure what he’s going to say, then give my father a look, thinking he’s being too nosy.

But Jay is cool and collected as always. “I’m looking for freelance work. I’m a graphic designer.”

Graphic designer? That’s the first I’ve heard of this. Then again, he could be flat-out lying and I wouldn’t know. In fact, I wager he is lying.

Dad pretends to be impressed. “Interesting. I guess you would work from home then.”

“That’s the plan,” he says with ease, “Got a few jobs lined up already.”

I nudge him under the table to say that’s true? but he ignores me. I’m tempted to reach down and give his leg a squeeze when Sage comes back over, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Are Dex and Perry here?” Sage asks casually as he sits back down.

I roll my eyes. God. Always Dex and Perry. All anyone ever wants to talk about are Dex and Perry.

“No, they’re back in Seattle,” Dad says before taking a sip of wine. “Should pop by next month.”

“So there’s no one else in the house?” he asks, a thread of worry in his voice.

My heart stammers. “What? No. Why?”

“Nothing,” he says as he looks to my dad. “Thought I heard talking coming from upstairs. I’m sure it’s the TV or something.”

“I’m sure,” my father says even though I was the last one upstairs and I know there was no TV on.

I think the others know this too, judging by the deepening scowl on Jacob’s face, the way Jay’s attention has turned to me now, asking with his eyes if this is something we should be worried about.

Then . . .

DOO-DO-DO-DO-DO!

Horn instruments erupt from the kitchen, the swing big band music of what can only be Glen Miller comes blaring, making us all jump in our seats.

“Goodness,” my dad says, hand at his heart. He shakes his head as he gets up, shoots everyone an apologetic smile. “I thought I turned the radio off! Sorry about this.”

My heart is bouncing around like it’s in a squash court now. My dad listens to AM when he’s cooking but I know for sure he turned the radio off earlier on when he was concentrating on the mint sauce.

He heads to the kitchen and the moment he’s out of earshot—which isn’t a problem considering how loud those trumpets are—Jacob leans in and says, “I don’t like this. I didn’t like it before and I don’t like it now. We’re pushing our luck.”

“Why, what is it?” Dawn asks, worry lines appearing on her forehead.

Suddenly the music turns off and my dad comes back in the room before Jacob can continue. “Strangest thing,” he mutters to himself as he comes. “The radio was already off. I had to turn it on and then back off again to make it stop.”

“That sounds like it defies the laws of physics, dad,” I tell him, wishing for once that he wouldn’t find a rational explanation for every damn thing.

“It’s an old radio,” he warns, eyes cutting into mine over the tops of his glasses. I know the last thing he wants is for me to bring up ghosts and the supernatural. Oh, if only he knew who he was dining with.

He’s just about to sit back down when Dawn slowly gets out of her chair. “Maybe this is a good time to bring out the—”

She’s cut off.

Because the lights flicker and then die, the entire house is plunged into darkness.

Dawn lets out a gasp.

I yelp.

“What on earth now?” My dad cries out in the blackness.

“Power failure,” Jacob says in a flat-voice that I find even creepier considering I can’t see a god damn thing.

“Why would the power go out?’ I ask, my voice getting shrill with fear. “Is it just our house?”

It’s past eight pm and the sun has set, though there should be enough twilight coming through the dining room window. Yet the room is so dark, it’s like someone has put blackout drapes on.

Finally, a light comes on, a blinding stream from Sage’s iPhone. He quickly flashes it around the table and checks to make sure everyone is here, the whites of his eyes shining with a fear I know is familiar to him.

“Where’s your breaker?” he asks my dad.

“In the basement,” my dad says. “I’ll go take a look. Maybe I did something screwy when I was fiddling with the radio.”

“No,” I say quickly and the flashlight blinds me. I shield my eyes until Sage lowers it. “It’s dangerous to go down there in the dark. Maybe the whole block is out?”

“I’ll go with you,” Sage tells him, getting out of his chair. “Supply the light.”

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