The air hums with electricity.
Intrigued, we creep down the stairs, each step creaking beneath our weight. Halfway down, a gasp tumbles from my lips. For there—in the back, past the washer and dryer and furnace—is a rift. An open, glowing rift.
With my heart in my throat, I take a step closer.
The rift sparks.
Jude grabs my arm.
But I take another step.
The rift flickers and twists. Then a bellow of wind howls through the opening. I lift my hands to shield my face as an unholy shriek rattles the walls. I clamp my palms over my ears and the rift explodes in a violent burst of light.
I am tucked beneath Jude’s arm, pressed against his chest, my own heaving—unsure what that was or why it just happened—when the front door opens above us.
I stop breathing.
Footsteps echo overhead.
Jude pulls me under the stairs, behind a stack of storage bins. We crouch low as the footsteps stop in front of the staircase.
Twig and Naomi were supposed to notify us ifLainey was on her way. The very thought seems to conjure a response. A loud buzz vibrates in my pocket. My fingers fumble as I quickly shut it off. We lower ourselves all the way to the ground.
Someone climbs down the stairs.
Dust rains on our heads.
A cough rises in my throat. I choke it back.
Slowly, Lainey walks to the hanging bulb in the center of the room and pulls the chain. She stands with her back to us, facing the spot where the rift was hovering mere moments ago. She turns up her wrist, the dots glowing as she tries to open another doorway. I watch as she struggles, fails, then spins around. The harsh light glints off the key hanging around her neck as she squints into the dark corners of the basement.
I don’t dare breathe.
She tries again.
Fails again.
Then she stomps up the stairs.
A few seconds later, the front door opens and slams shut.
Jude and I stay where we are.
For a long moment, neither of us move.
All we can do is breathe.
By the time I turn on my phone, I have a slew of missed calls and text messages. Mostly fromTwig, but Harper, too. She sent a message to me and Naomi.
SOS. Are you two okay? Jake just told me two girls have gone missing but he won’t say who. Call me ASAP.
25
A FAMILIAR ARTIST
We meet in the basement of Evermore Books where we won’t run in to any of our parents. Just Maggie, who won’t blink twice when Twig tells her we’re having some guests on the podcast.
Jude and I are the last to arrive.
