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My lovebirds huddled in the corner of their cage. They had been acting weirder than usual since I came home from the bonfire party. I still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened. I remembered the board, the way it had drawn me to it, sent a shock to my fingertips when I touched it. Pretty much everything after that was a blur until I saw Dorian bleeding. He had been angry with me, there was glass everywhere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d fallen asleep again, that something had happened while I was sleepwalking.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked Mam and Dad at breakfast the next morning. I hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, and I was sure my attempts to conceal the black bags under my eyes weren’t fooling anyone.
“Oh, don’t let those idiots scare you.” Mam rolled her eyes. “It’s all anyone can talk about. It’s ridiculous.”
“Margo can come with me to work today,” Dad said. “It’ll keep her mind off it.”
“Dad, I don’t want to go back there,” I said hurriedly. “I don’t like that place.” And I’d look like an epic stalker, hanging around at Dorian’s place after everything that happened.
“That’s your imagination going crazy,” he said firmly. “There’s nothing wrong with those people.”
Except that they liked to scare people so much, even their own friends were hurt if they got in the way. A memory came to me in a flash—me, frozen in place as a heavy bookcase threatened to fall on me. Dorian stopped it easily, his rush of adrenaline protecting us both—until the window was smashed in. I remembered his wound, only knew it was real because of the smear of blood left on my own fingers. Dorian was about the only certainty from that night.
Except I wasn’t certain about him at all. He’d kissed me like he meant it then helped take part in a dangerous prank. I didn’t get it, but I was sure that glass had been meant for me. While I wanted to confront him, I was afraid he’d confirm the kiss had been part of the sick joke. Because I didn’t want to hate him. Something about him put me at ease, and kissing him had made me happy, helped me forget how miserable I was supposed to be feeling. I didn’t want it to be over before it even started.
Dad drove us to Mr. Evans’s home after breakfast, chatting incessantly to keep my mind off things, most likely.
“We’re not going to be long though, right?” I said in the car.
“I’m mostly cleaning up the garden, preparing everything for the real work in spring,” he said. “Why?”
“No reason,” I muttered, gazing out of the window and wishing I was anywhere else in the world.
Mr. Evans himself greeted us outside his house, looking worried and harassed.
I stayed close to Dad, shooting doubtful glances toward the houses.
“I hope you didn’t get too much of a fright on Halloween.” Mr. Evans addressed me apologetically, and I wondered how much he knew.
“I’m sure it was just a bit of fun that got out of hand,” Dad said, but there was a tense note to his words.
My cheeks burned. The last thing we could afford was Dad’s protectiveness over me losing his job. “It’s our fault for falling for the joke.”
“Yes,” Mr. Evans said, sounding relieved. “Teenagers and their pranks.”
He and Dad exchanged a few horror stories about teenagers. A group of teens I recognised from school wandered toward us, wearing matching sullen looks, while Nathan Evans led the way, stress apparent in his features, too. I felt slightly responsible—I’d done nothing when Emma took the stupid spirit board in the first place, after all. I wanted to hide behind Dad by then.
A fair-haired man stood near one of the houses and stared at me. I remembered him from the party. He’d kicked Emma and me out of the house after she’d stolen the spirit board. That’s what I didn’t get. How had Dorian’s friends known we’d find the thing?
Nathan greeted Dad and me politely, but his gaze lingered on me too long, something a degree short of suspicion darkening his eyes.
“I’m going to the airport to pick her up now,” he said to Byron under his breath. “Plane landed early.”
“Just her luck,” Byron replied.
Nathan left, shooting the teenagers one last warning look.
Byron gestured toward the group. “These are your new helpers,” he told Dad. “If they aren’t helpful, just let me know.”
“I’m sure they’ll do fine,” Dad said, looking uncomfortable. Helping him had obviously turned out to be a punishment for the prank they’d pulled.
I spotted Dorian skulking past and followed him unthinkingly, my eyes unable to believe what they were seeing.
“Was the glass a joke, too?” I demanded. His skin was blemish free, but I clearly remembered the glass shard that had been embedded into his cheek. I saw it, and now there was no mark at all. Not possible.
“What are you on about?” he asked, refusing to look at me. The other teens watched us closely, but none said a word.
“The big Halloween prank you all played,” I said. “I thought you were really hurt, but you haven’t got a mark on you.”
