Six of them. All women, their long hair hanging over their eyes, their heads lolling at unnatural angles. They’ve been strung up there, pale and dead.
“Do you like my little sparrows, Gabby? Do you want to join them?”
Before I know it, the twine is wrapped around my neck, tightening until I can’t breathe—
I wake up gasping and choking, clutching at my neck, trying to free myself from the tangled rope.
“Whoa!” Jasmine says in the darkness. In an instant she’s by my side. “Are you okay? Are you having another nightmare?”
A nightmare. That’s all it was. Just in my head.
My fingers are still clutching the sheets. Loosening them, I nod, sucking in air, trying to calm myself.
“It’s okay,” Jasmine says, giving me a rather stiff pat on the back, as if she has no idea what to do with her crazy cousin. “It’s fine. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”
“Yeah.” I swallow my panic and manage a smile. “Thanks. I know.”
“Are you sure you’re good? Wanna talk about it?”
That’s the last thing I want to do. “No. But thanks.”
Two minutes later, she’s snoring again. I can’t fall back asleep. Instead, I watch out the blinds as the sky lightens. Then I grab my phone and check the time. It’s barely six. I decide there’s no way I’m sleeping now, so I get up, change into a hoodie and jeans, and head out along the path.
It’s almost too dark, but there’s a sliver of moonlight overhead, and by now I know the path well. I find a perch on the rocks, overlooking the valley with the Smoky Mountains in the distance, and wait for the sun to rise.
As I’m waiting, I hear footfalls along the path. I know it before I see him—it’s Everett.
He catches sight of me and breaks out into a delighted smile. “Hey,” he says, slowing to a stop. “What are you up to so early?”
“Taking pictures,” I say automatically, before I realize what an idiot I am. I was so unnerved by the dream that I forgot to bring my camera.
He notices, and his grin widens. But he doesn’t say a word about it. “I was hoping to see you here.”
“Really?” As much as I appreciate him not playing games, I’m not above playing them myself. Because I don’t tell him that I’ve been coming out here almost every morning, hoping to see him too. I’ve given up on finding my necklace in these woods, yet I still keep coming back.
“Yeah. Figured you might be out for a walk. I was gonna invite you over for breakfast. My dad is making pancakes.”
“I have to get ready for school.”
“The bus doesn’t come for two more hours,” he points out. “And you could ride with me if you miss it.”
I hesitate. His property is next door to the Shipleys, not far at all. And after the week I’ve had, I could use a distraction.
“I don’t know…” I start, but he cuts me off with that easy smile.
“C’mon. We’ve got plenty of food, and the dogs will love you.”
The dogs. That gets me.
“Fine,” I relent, “but I can’t stay long.”
“Deal.”
We walk through the woods in silence, his presence oddly calming despite everything. Soon the trail looks less like a trail and more like a rural property. We pass an idyllic wooden gazebo and an old wishing well. A firepit. Several large garden beds beneath the shade of ancient trees.
The James house has chipped white paint on the outside anda creaky porch that looks like it’s been through a few too many thunderstorms. The side yard is fenced off, and as we approach, I hear the barking before I even see the dogs.
Several of them rush up to the fence, tails wagging, and I can’t help but smile.
